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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11061 ***
+
+THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
+
+A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
+
+VOL. VI.--AUGUST, 1860.--NO. XXXIV.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CARNIVAL OF THE ROMANTIC.
+
+
+Whither went the nine old Muses, daughters of Jupiter and the Goddess
+of Memory, after their seats on Helicon, Parnassus, and Olympus were
+barbarized? Not far away. They hovered like witches around the seething
+caldron of early Christian Europe, in which, "with bubble, bubble, toil
+and trouble," a new civilization was forming, mindful of the brilliant
+lineage of their worshippers, from Homer to Boethius, looking upon the
+vexed and beclouded Nature, and expecting the time when Humanity should
+gird itself anew with the beauty of ideas and institutions. They were
+sorrowful, but not in despair; for they knew that the children of men
+were strong with recuperative power.
+
+The ear of Fancy, not long since, heard the hoofs of winged Pegasus
+striking the clouds. The long-idle Muses, it seemed, had become again
+interested in human efforts, and were paying a flying visit to the
+haunts of modern genius from the Hellespont to the Mississippi.
+They lingered in sunny Provence, and in the dark forest-land of the
+Minnesingers. In the great capitals, as Rome, Berlin, Paris, London,--in
+smaller capitals, as Florence, Weimar, and Boston,--in many a village
+which had a charm for them, as Stratford-on-Avon, Ferney, and Concord
+in Massachusetts,--in the homes of wonderful suffering, as Ferrara and
+Haworth.--on many enchanted waters, as the Guadalquivir, the Rhine,
+the Tweed, the Hudson, Windermere, and Leman,--in many a monastic nook
+whence had issued a chronicle or history, in many a wild birthplace of a
+poem or romance, around many an old castle and stately ruin, in many a
+decayed seat of revelry and joyous repartee,--through the long list
+of the nurseries of genius and the laboratories of art, they wandered
+pensive and strangely affected. At length they rested from their journey
+to hold a council on modern literature. The long results of Christian
+time were unrolled before them as in a chart. They beheld the dawn of a
+new historic day, marked by songs of fantastic tenderness, and unwieldy,
+long, and jointless romances and poems, like the monsters which played
+in the unfinished universe before the creation of man. The Muses smiled
+with a look more of complaisance than approval, as they reviewed the
+army of Troubadours and Minnesingers and the crowd of romancers who
+followed in their train. They decided that the joyous array of early
+mediæval literature was full of promise, though something of its tone
+and temper was past the comprehension of pagan goddesses. The legends of
+saints and pictures of martyrdoms were especially mysterious to them,
+and they regarded them raptly, not smilingly, and bowed their heads.
+Anon their eyes rested on an Italian city, where uprose, as if in
+interstellar space, an erect figure, with a piercing eye, pleasant as
+Plato's voice. His countenance was fixed upon the empyrean, and a more
+than Minerva-like form hovered above him, interpreting the Christian
+universe; and as he wrote what she dictated, the verses of his poem were
+musical even to the Muses. Dante, Beatrice, and the "Divine Comedy,"
+with a Gothic church as a make-weight, were balanced in Muses' minds in
+comparison with the "Iliad" and the age of Pericles; and again they put
+on the rapt look of mystery, but a smile also, and their admiration
+and applause were more and more. To England they soon turned, and
+contemplated the round, many-colored globe of Shakspeare's works. As
+playful swallows sometimes dart round and round a lithe and wondering
+wingless animal, so they, admiringly and timidly, attracted, yet
+hesitating, delighting in his alertness, but not quite understanding it,
+flitted like a troubled and beautiful flock around the great magician of
+modern civilization. Their glance became lighter and less intent, as if
+they were nearer to knowledge, the pain of perplexity disappeared like a
+shadow from their countenances, their plaudits were more unreserved, and
+it seemed likely that the high desert of Shakspeare would win for our
+new literature a favorable recognition from the aristocratic goddesses
+of antiquity. Knowing that Jove had made perfection unattainable by
+mortals, they yet found in the chart before them epics, dramas, lyrics,
+histories, and philosophies that were no unworthy companions to the
+creations of classical genius, and they were jubilant in the triumphs
+of a period in which they had been rather ignorantly and ironically
+worshipped. Their sitting was long, and their review thorough, yet they
+found but one department of modern literature which was regarded with a
+distrust that grew to an aversion. The romances, the tales, the stories,
+the novels were contemned more and more, from the first of them to the
+last. Nothing like them had been known among the glories of Hellenic
+literary art, and no Muse now stood forth to be their defender and
+patron. Calliope declared that they were not epical, Euterpe and Erato
+that they were not lyrical, Melpomene and Thalia that they were neither
+tragical nor comical, Clio that they were not historical, Urania that
+they were not sublime in conception, Polymnia that they had no stately
+or simple charm in execution, and Terpsichore, who had joined with
+Melpomene in admiring the opera, found nothing in the novel which she
+could own and bless. Fleeting passages, remote and slight fragments,
+were pleasing to them all, like the oases of a Sahara, or the sites of
+high civilization on the earth; but the whole world of novels seemed to
+them a chaos undisciplined by art and unformed to beauty. The gates of
+the halls where the classics live in immortal youth were beginning to
+close against the voluminous prose romances that have sprung from modern
+thought, when the deliberations of the Muses were suddenly interrupted.
+They had disturbed the divine elements of modern society. Forth from all
+the recesses of the air came troops of Gothic elves, trolls, fairies,
+sprites, and all the other romantic beings which had inspired the modern
+mind to novel-writing,--marching or gambolling, pride in their port,
+defiance in their eye, mischief in their purpose,--and began so vigorous
+an attack upon their classic visitors and critics, that the latter were
+glad to betake themselves to the mighty-winged Pegasus, who rapidly bore
+them in retreat to the present home of the _Dii Majores_, that point of
+the empyrean directly above Olympus.
+
+And well, indeed, might the Muses wonder at the rise of the novel and
+its vast developments, for the classic literature presents no similar
+works. One of Plato's dialogues or Aesop's fables is as near an approach
+to a prose romance as antiquity in its golden eras can offer. The few
+productions of the kind which appeared during the decline of literature
+in the early Christian centuries, as the "Golden Ass" of Apuleius and
+the "Æthiopica" of Heliodorus, were freaks of Nature, an odd growth
+rather than a distinct species, and are also to be contrasted rather
+than compared with the later novel. Such as they are, moreover, they
+were produced under Christian as much as classic influences. The
+æsthetic Hellenes admitted into their literature nothing so composite,
+so likely to be crude, as the romance. Their styles of art were all
+pure, their taste delighted in simplicity and unity, and they strictly
+forbade a medley, alike in architecture, sculpture, and letters. The
+history of their development opens with an epic yet unsurpassed, and
+their literary creations have been adopted to be the humanities of
+Christian universities. A writer has recently proposed to account for
+their success in the arts from the circumstance that the features of
+Nature around them were small,--that their hornet-shaped peninsula was
+cut by mountains and inlets of the sea into minute portions, which the
+mind could easily compass, the foot measure, and the hand improve,--that
+therefore every hillock and fountain, every forest and by-way was
+peopled with mythological characters and made significant with
+traditions, and the cities were adorned with architectural and
+sculptured masterpieces. Greece thus, like England in our own time,
+presented the character of a highly wrought piece of ground,--England
+being the more completely developed for material uses, and Greece being
+the more heavily freighted with legends of ideal meaning. Small-featured
+and large-minded Greece is thus set in contrast with Asia, where the
+mind and body were equally palsied in the effort to overcome immense
+plains and interminable mountain-chains. But whatever the reason,
+whether geographical or ethnological, it is certain that the people of
+Greece were endowed with a transcendent genius for art, which embraced
+all departments of life as by an instinct. Every divinity was made a
+plain figure to the mind, every mystery was symbolized in some positive
+beautiful myth, and every conception of whatever object became
+statuesque and clear. This artistic character was possible to them from
+the comparatively limited range of pagan imagination; their thought
+rarely dwelt in those regions where reason loves to ask the aid
+of mysticism, and all remote ideas, like all remote nations, were
+indiscriminately regarded by them as barbarous. But guarded by the
+bounds of their civilization, as by the circumfluent ocean-stream of
+their olden tradition, they were prompted in all their movements by the
+spirit of beauty, and philosophers have accounted them the very people
+whose ideas were adequately and harmoniously represented in sensible
+forms,--unlike the nations of the Orient, where mind is overawed by
+preponderating matter, and unlike the nations of Christendom, where the
+current spiritual meanings reach far into the shadowy realm of mystery
+and transcend the power of material expression.
+
+Thus art was the main category of the Greeks, the absolute form which
+embraced all their finite forms. It moulded their literature, as it did
+their sculpture, architecture, and the action of their gymnasts and
+orators. They therefore delighted only in the highest orders and purest
+specimens of literature, refused to retain in remembrance any of the
+unsuccessful attempts at poetry which may be supposed to have preceded
+Homer, and gave their homage only to masterpieces in the dignified
+styles of the epic, the drama, the lyric, the history, or the
+philosophical discussion. Equal to the highest creations, they refused
+to tolerate anything lower; and they knew not the novel, because their
+poetical notions were never left in a nebulous, prosaic state, but were
+always developed into poetry.
+
+Another reason, doubtless, was the wonderful activity of the Greek mind,
+finding its amusement and relaxation in the forum, theatre, gymnasium,
+or even the barber's shop, in constant mutual contact, in learning
+wisdom and news by word of mouth. The long stories which they may
+have told to each other, as an outlet for their natural vitality, as
+extemporaneous exercises of curiosity and wit and fancy, did not creep
+into their literature, which included only more mature and elaborate
+attempts.
+
+The modern novel was born of Christianity and feudalism. It is the child
+of contemplation,--of that sort of luxurious intellectual mood which has
+always distinguished the Oriental character, and was first Europeanized
+in the twilight of the mediæval period. The fallen Roman Empire was
+broken into countless fragments, which became feudal baronies. The heads
+of the newly organized society were lordly occupants of castles, who in
+time of peace had little to do. They were isolated from their neighbors
+by acres, forests, and a stately etiquette, if not actual hostility.
+There was no open-air theatre in the vicinity, no forum alive with
+gossip and harangues, no public games, not even a loquacious barber's
+shop. During the intervals between public or private wars,--when the
+Turks were unmolested, the crescent and the dragon left in harmless
+composure, and no Christians were in mortal turmoil with each other,--it
+is little wonder that restless knights went forth from their loneliness
+errant in quest of adventures. What was there to occupy life in those
+barricaded stone-towers?
+
+It was then that the domestic passion, love, rose into dignity. Homage
+to woman assumed the potency of an idea, chivalry arose, and its truth,
+honor, and obeisance were the first social responses from mankind to
+Christianity. The castle was the emblem and central figure of the time:
+it was the seat of power, the arena of manners, the nursery of love, and
+the goal of gallantry; and around it hovered the shadows of religion,
+loyalty, heroism. Domestic events, the private castellar life, were thus
+exalted; but they could hardly suffice to engross and satisfy the spirit
+of a warrior and crusader. A new diversion and excitement were demanded,
+and soon, in response to the call, minstrels began to roam from castle
+to castle, from court to court, telling long stories of heroism and
+singing light songs of love. A spark from the Saracenic schools and
+poets of Spain may have flitted into Provence to kindle the elements
+of modern literature into its first development, the songs of the
+Troubadours. Almost contemporary were the lays of the Minnesingers in
+Germany and the romances of the Trouvères in Northern France. Beneath
+the brooding spirit of a new civilization signs of life had at length
+appeared, and Europe became vocal in every part with fantastic poems,
+lyrical in the South, epical in the North. They were wildly exuberant
+products, because severe art was unknown, but simple, _naïve_, and gay,
+and suited to the taste of a time when the classics were regarded as
+superstitiously as the heavens. Love and heroism, which somehow are the
+leading themes of literature in all ages, now assumed the chivalric type
+in the light hands of the earliest modern poets.
+
+Yet these songs and metrical romances were most inadequate
+representatives of the undeveloped principles which lay at the root of
+Christian civilization. Even Hellenic genius might here have been at
+fault, for it was a far harder task to give harmonious and complete
+expression to the tendencies of a new religion and the germs of new
+systems, than to frame into beauty the pagan clear-cut conceptions. The
+Christian mind awoke under a fascination, and, for a time, could
+only ejaculate its meanings in fragments, or hint them in vast
+disproportions, could only sing snatches of new tunes. Its first signs
+were gasps, rather than clear-toned notes, after the long perturbations
+and preparations of history. The North and the South, the East and the
+West had been mingled together; the heated and heaving mass had been
+tempered by the leaven of Christianity:--and had all this been done
+only to produce an octo-syllabic metre in praise of fantastic and semi-
+barbaric sentiments and exploits? Had there been such commotions of the
+universe only for a song? Surely these first creations of art, these
+first attempts at literature, these first carvings of a rude spiritual
+intensity, were only such as the Greeks may have forgotten any quantity
+of before Homer came, their first glory and their oldest reminiscence.
+
+One reason, perhaps, why mediæval literature assumed so light and
+unartistic a form was, that by necessity it could not be full-orbed.
+Religion could not enter into it as a plastic element, but was fixed, a
+veiled, external figure, radiating indeed color and fragrance, but
+not making one of the struggling, independent vitals of the heart.
+Literature could play about this figure, but could not grasp it, and
+take it in among the materials to be fashioned. The Church, through
+its clergy, held jealous command of divine knowledge, beneath divine
+guidance, and left no developments of it possible to the lay mind, which
+culminated in minstrels and romancers. The Greeks, on the contrary,
+whose religion was an apotheosis of the earth, framed upwards and only
+by fiction of fancy handed downwards, derived all their theology from
+the poets. Prophecy and taste were combined in Homer,--Isaiah and the
+king's jester in Pindar. The care of the highest, not less than the
+lowest departments of thought, fell upon the creative author, and
+a happy suggestion became a new article in the Hellenic creed. His
+composition thus bore the burden and was hallowed by the sanctity
+of piety, the key to every human perfect thing. But the Provençal
+celebrators of love and chivalry had no such dignity in their task. The
+solemnities of thought and life were cared for and hedged about by the
+Church as its own peculiar treasure, and to them there remained only the
+lighter office of amusing. The age was eminently religious, but the poet
+could not aid in erecting and adorning its temples. Every fair work of
+art must have a central idea; but the proper principle of unity for
+all grand artistic efforts not being within the reach of authors, it
+followed that their productions were not symmetrical, did not have an
+even outline nor cosmical meaning, did not consist of balanced parts,
+were poorly framed and articulated, and were charming only by their
+flavor, and not by their form. The cultured intellect will not seriously
+work short of a final principle; and if a materialized religion, an
+ecclesiastical structure, be firmly planted on the earth by the same
+hand that established the universe and tapestried it with morning and
+evening, and if its gates and archways, its altar, columns, and courts
+be given in trust to chosen stewards as a divine priesthood, then the
+highest problem of being is not a human problem, and the mind of the
+laity has nothing more important to do than to play with the flowers of
+gallant love and heroism. Such was the feeling, perhaps the unconscious
+reasoning, of the founders of modern literature, as they began their
+labors in the alcoves of that church architecture which covered
+Christendom, embracing and symbolically expressing all its ideas
+and institutes. Therefore some vice of imperfection, a character of
+frivolity, or an artificially serious treatment of lightsome subjects
+marked all the literature of the time, which resembled that grotesque
+and unaccountable mathematical figure that has its centre outside of
+itself.
+
+Modern literature thus had its origin in romantic metrical pieces,
+which, in the next stage, were transformed into prose novels. Two
+circumstances contributed to this change,--a change which could not have
+been anticipated; for the Trouvère _fabliaux_ and _romans_ promised only
+epics, and the Troubadour _chansons_ and _tensons_ promised only lyrics
+and dramas. But the mind was now obliged to traverse the unbeaten paths
+of the Christian universe; it was overwhelmed by the extent of its
+range, the richness and delicacy of its materials; it could with
+difficulty poise itself amid the indefinite heights and depths which
+encompassed it, and with greater difficulty could wield the magician's
+rod which should sway the driving elements into artistic reconstruction.
+This mental inadequacy alone would not have created the novel, but would
+only have made lyrics and epics rare, the works of superior minds. The
+second and cooperating circumstance was the prevalence of the Christian
+and feudal habit of contemplation, which made constant literature a
+necessity. Nothing less than eternal new romances could save the lords,
+the ladies, and the dependents from _ennui_. But to supply these in a
+style of proper and antique dignity was beyond the power of the poets.
+In the wild forests of the mind they could rarely capture a mature idea,
+and they were as yet unpractised artists. Yet contemplative leisure
+called eagerly for constant titbits of romance to tickle the palate and
+furnish a diversion, while the genius of Christian poetry was yet in
+infantile weakness. The dilemma lasted but a moment, and was solved by
+an heroic effort of the poets to do, not what they would, but what they
+could. Yielding to practical necessities, they renounced the traditions
+of the classical past, which now seemed to belong to another hemisphere,
+abandoned the attempt to realize pure forms, postponed high art; melody
+gave way to prose, the romance degenerated into the novel, and prose
+fiction, which erst had flitted only between the tongue and ear,
+entered, a straggling and reeling constellation, into the firmament of
+literature. Hence the novel is the child of human impotency and despair.
+The race thereby, with merriment and jubilee, confessed its inability
+to fulfil at once its Christian destiny as completely as the Greeks
+had fulfilled their pagan possibilities. Purity of art was left to
+the future, to Providence, or to great geniuses, but the novel became
+popular.
+
+Thus the modern novel had its genesis not merely in a contemplative
+mood, but in contemplation which was forced by the impetuous temper of
+the times to fail of ever reaching the dignity of thoughtfulness. It
+was the immature product of an immature mental state; and richly as
+sometimes it was endowed by every human faculty, by imagination, wit,
+taste, or even profound thought, it yet never reached the goal of
+thought, never solved a problem, and, in its highest examples, professed
+only to reveal, but not to guide, the reigning manners and customs.
+Rarely did its materials pass through the fiery furnace whence art
+issues; it was a work of unfaithful intellect, prompted by ideas which
+never culminated and were never realized; and it did not rise much above
+the "stuffs" of life, as distinguished from the organic creations of the
+mind. A many-limbed and shambling creature, which was not made a
+spirit by the power of an idea, it fluttered amid all the culture of a
+people,--amid the ideas and modes of the state, the church, the family,
+the world of society,--like a bungler among paint-pots; but the paints
+still remained paints on the canvas, instead of being blended and
+transfigured into a thing of beauty. It was the organ of society, but
+not of the essential truths which vitalize society, and its incidents
+did not rise much above the significance of accidents.
+
+What the novel was in knightly days, that it has continued to be. There
+is a mysterious practical potency in precedent. All ideas and institutes
+seem to grow in the direction of their first steps, as if from germs.
+Thus, the doctrines of the Church fathers are still peculiarly
+authoritative in theology, and the immemorial traditions of the common
+law are still binding in civil life. Man seems to be an experimental
+far more than a freely rational animal; for a fact in the past exerts
+a greater influence in determining future action than any new idea. A
+revolution must strike deep to eradicate the presumption in favor of
+ages. Learned men are now trying to read the hieroglyphics of the East,
+the records of an unknown history. Perhaps the result of their labors
+will temper the next period in the course of the world more than all our
+thinkers. Destiny seems to travel in the harness of precedents.
+
+Thus, in obedience to the law of precedent, the mild gambols, the
+_naïve_ superficiality, the child-like irresponsibility for thinking,
+which were the characteristics of the first European novels, have
+generally distinguished the unnumbered and unclassified broods of them
+which have abounded in subsequent literature. Designed chiefly to amuse,
+to divert for a moment rather than to present an admirable work of art,
+to interest rather than to instruct and elevate, the modern romance has
+in general excused itself from thorough elaboration. Instead of being
+a chastened and symmetrical product of the whole organic mind, it has
+mainly been inspired by the imagination, which has been called the fool
+in the family of the faculties, and wrought out by the assistance of
+memory, which mechanically links the mad suggestions of its partner
+with temporal events. It is in literature something like what a feast
+presided over by the king's jester and steward would have been in
+mediaeval social life. Let any novel be finished, let all the resources
+of the mind be conscientiously expended on it, let it become a thorough
+intellectual creation, and, instead of remaining a novel, it would
+assume the dignity of an epic, lyric, drama, philosophy, or history. Its
+nebulae would be resolved into stars.
+
+Has, then, the mild and favorite blossom, the _fabula romanensis_, which
+was so abundant in the Middle Ages, which has grown so luxuriantly
+and given so general delight in modern times,--has it no place in
+the natural history of literature? Shall it be mentioned only as an
+uncompleted something else,--as an abortive effort of thought,--as
+a crude _mélange_ of elements that have not been purified and fused
+together in the focus of the mind? And were the Muses right in refusing
+to admit it into their sacred realm of art?
+
+An affirmative answer can hardly be true; for an absurdity appears in
+the reduction that it would cause in the quantity of our veritable
+literature, and in the condemnation that it would pass on the tastes of
+many most intelligent writers and readers. Yet a comparison of the novel
+with the classical and pure forms of literature will show its unlikeness
+to them in design, dignity, and essential quality.
+
+It was a favorite thesis of Fielding, often repeated by his successors,
+that the novel is a sort of comic epopee. Yet the romantic and the epic
+styles have nothing in common, except that both are narrative. The epic,
+the rare and lofty cypress of literature, is the story of a nation and a
+civilization; the novel, of a neighborhood and a generation. A thousand
+years culminate in the former; it sums up the burden and purpose of
+a long historical period; and its characters are prominent types in
+universal history and in highest thought. But the novel is the child
+of a day; it is the organ of manners and phases, not of principles and
+passions; it does not see the phenomena of earth in heavenly or logical
+relations, does not transform life into art, and is a panorama, but not
+a picture. So long as man and heroism and strife endure, shall Achilles,
+Godfrey, Satan, and Mephistopheles be types; for they are artistic
+expressions of essential and historical realities. But though the beck
+of curiosity lead us through the labyrinthine plot of a novel, long as
+Gibbon's way through the Dark Ages, yet, when we have finished it, the
+bubble collapses, the little heavens which had been framed about us roll
+away, and most rarely does a character remain poetically significant in
+the mind.
+
+A contrast of any page of an epic with one of a romance will show
+their essential unlikeness. Note, for instance, the beginning of the
+"Gerusalemme Liberata." The first stanza presents "the illustrious
+captain who warred for Heaven and saved the sepulchre of Christ,--the
+many deeds which he wrought by arms and by wisdom,--his great toil, and
+his glorious achievement. Hell opposed him, the mingled populations
+of Asia and Africa leagued against him,--but all in vain, for Heaven
+smiled, and guided the wandering bands beneath his sacred ensigns." Such
+are the splendid elements of the poem, outlining in a stanza the finest
+type, objects, and scenery of mediaeval heroism. The second stanza
+invokes the Muse,--"Not thou whose brow was wreathed with the unenduring
+bays of Helicon, but thou who in angelic choirs hast a golden crown set
+with immortal stars,--do thou breathe celestial ardor into the poet's
+heart!" Then follows an allusion to a profound matter of temper and
+experience. He prays that "the Muse will pardon, if sometimes he adorn
+his page with other charms than her own; for thus, perhaps, he may
+win the world to his higher meanings, shrouding severe truths in soft
+verses. As the rim of the bitter cup is sweetened which is extended to
+the sick child, so may he, by beauties not quite Christian, attract
+mankind to read his whole poem to their health." Such is the stately
+soaring of the epical Muse, the Muse of ideal history. Scholars find
+Greece completely prefigured in Homer, and the time may come when Dante
+and Tasso shall be the leading authorities for the history of the Middle
+Ages, and Milton for that of the ages of Protestantism.
+
+In such comparison novels are insignificant and imbecile. Though, like
+"Contarini Fleming," they may begin with a magnificent paragraph, and
+fine passages be scattered through the volumes, they are yet rarely
+stories of ideas as well as persons, rarely succeed in involving events
+of more than temporary interest, and rarely, perhaps, should be called
+great mental products.
+
+Not less strikingly does the difference between the epic and the novel
+appear in their different uses. The one is the inspiration of great
+historical action, the other of listless repose. The statesman, in the
+moment of debate, and in the dignity of conscious power, finds sympathy
+and encouragement in a passage of his favorite epic. Its grand types
+are ever in fellowship with high thoughts. The novel is for the lighter
+moment after the deed is done, when he is no longer brunting Fate, but
+reclining idly, and reflecting humorously or malignly on this life. The
+epic is closely and strongly framed, like the gladiator about to strike
+a blow: the novel is relaxed and at careless ease, like the club-man
+after lighting his pipe. The latter does not bear the burden of severe
+responsibility, but is a thing of holidays and reactions. Still, as of
+old, it answers to the contemplative castellar cry,--"Hail, romancer!
+come and divert me,--make me merry! I wish to be occupied, but not
+employed,--to muse passively, not actively. Therefore, hail! tell me
+a story,--sing me a song! If I were now in the van of an army and
+civilization, higher thoughts would engross me. But I am unstrung, and
+wish to be fanned, not helmeted."
+
+It has sometimes been claimed that the romantic style is essentially
+lyrical. But though the idea from which many novels start was perhaps
+the proper germ for one or more lyrics, it never attains in romance
+a pure and unincumbered development. We may illustrate the different
+intellectual creations founded on a common conception by imagining how
+one of Wordsworth's lyrical fancies might have been developed in three
+volumes of romance instead of three stanzas of poetry.
+
+ "She dwelt among the untrodden ways,
+ Beside the springs of Dove,
+ A maid whom there were none to praise,
+ And very few to love."
+
+The first line, romantically treated, would include description,
+soliloquy, and narrative, to show that in solitude the maiden had
+habits, duties, something to think about and be interested in. The
+accidental approach of some cosmopolitan visitor would give occasion to
+illustrate dramatically the contrast between life in retirement and in
+society. Some novelists also would inflict, either by direct lecture
+or by conversation of the actors, very admirable reflections on the
+comparative advantages of the two conditions. The second line would
+perhaps suggest only geographical lore and descriptions of scenery,
+though historical episodes might be added. The third line would
+involve a minute description of dress, complexion, stature, and wild
+gracefulness. In a psychological investigation it would come out what
+strange and simple notions she entertained of the great world, and what
+charming qualities of unsophisticated character belonged to her as she
+merrily or pensively went through her accustomed tasks. The fourth line,
+in which love is the text, would swell into mammoth proportions. New
+characters would be especially necessary in this culminating part of the
+story; and though they should be "very few," they would long occupy the
+novelist with their diverse excellencies or villanies, their rivalries
+and strategies. It is probable that the complete development of the
+stanza _à la romance_ would give a circumstantial history of the maiden
+from her birth, with glimpses more or less clear of all the remarkable
+people who dwelt near or occasionally visited the springs of Dove. Thus
+the same conception would become a stanza or a volume, according as its
+treatment were lyrical or romantic.
+
+It need hardly be shown that the novel is not a drama, not a history,
+nor fable, nor any sort of philosophical treatise. It may have
+sentences, paragraphs, or perhaps chapters, in every style and of the
+highest excellence, as a shapeless architectural pile may rejoice in
+some exquisite features or ornaments; but combined passages, though they
+were the collected charms of literature, do not make a work of art. The
+styles are mixed,--a certain sign, according to Lessing, of corruption
+of taste. Novels present the anomaly of being fiction, but not
+poetry,--of being fruits of imagination, but of imagination improvising
+its creations from local and temporal things, instead of speaking from
+a sublime stand-point and linking series of facts with processions of
+ideas. Sources of history, guides of philosophical retrospection, they
+may come some time to be; yet one cannot check a feeling of pity for
+the future historian who, in searching the "Pickwick Papers"
+for antiquities, finds himself bothered and confused by all the
+undisciplined witches of Mr. Dickens's imagination.
+
+If the novel be thus excluded from all the classical orders of
+literature, a trembling question is suggested, whether it may not be
+nevertheless a legitimate work of art. Though it be a _mélange_ of
+styles, a story told, in literature what the story-teller is in
+society, yet why should it not have the honor among readers which
+the story-teller in all ages has had among listeners? Though by
+its escutcheon it assume a place among the amusing rather than the
+instructive class of books, why should not its nobility be recognized?
+
+The answer is found in the essential nature of art, in the almost
+eternal distinction between life and thought, between actual and ideal
+realities. Unity amid diversity is the type of intellectual beauty and
+the law of the universe; to comprehend it is the goal of science, and
+to reproduce it in human works is the aim of art. Yet how hard it is to
+find the central and essential idea in a world of apparent accidents and
+delusions! to chase the real and divine thing as it plays among cheats
+and semblances! Hence the difficulty of thorough thought, of faithful
+intellectual performance, of artistic creation. To the thoughtless man
+life is merely the rough and monotonous exterior of the cameo-stone; but
+the artist sees through its strata, discerns its layers of many colors,
+and from its surface to its vital centre works them all together into
+varied beauty. To live is common; but art belongs only to the finest
+minds and the best moments. Life is a burden of present multitudinous
+phenomena; but art has the simple unity of perfect science, and is
+a goal and aspiration. Life comes by birth, art by thought, and the
+travail that produces art is ofttimes the severer. The fashions of life
+are bubbles on the surface, and pass away with the season; but the
+creations of art belong to the depths of the spiritual world, where they
+shine like stars and systems in the physical universe.
+
+Story-telling is the most charming of occupations, and, whatever its
+relation to literary art, it is one of the graces of the art of life.
+Old as the race, it has always been in fashion on the earth, the delight
+of every clime from the Orient to the Occident, and of every age from
+childhood to second childhood. We live in such a concatenation of
+things,--our hopes, fears, loves, hates, struggles, sympathies, defeats,
+and triumphs make such a medley, with a sort of divine fascination about
+it,--that we are always interested to hear how anybody has borne himself
+through whatever varieties of fortune. At the basis of every other
+character which can be assumed by man lie the conceiver and the teller
+of stories; story-telling is the _primá facie_ quality of an intelligent
+and sociable being leading a life full of events in a universe full
+of phenomena. The child believes the wonders of romance by a right
+instinct; narratives of love and peril and achievement come home to the
+spirit of the youth; and the mystical, wonder-expecting eye of childhood
+returns to old age. The humor, wit, piety, and pathos of every age
+abound in the written stories of its people and children.
+
+Yet between the vocal story and the story in literature there is an
+immense difference, like that between talking and writing, between life
+and art. The qualities which in the story-teller make even frivolity
+weighty and dulness significant--the play of the eye, the lips, the
+countenance, the voice, the whole sympathetic expression of the
+person--are wanting to the novel; it has passed from the realm of life
+to that of art; it loses the charm which personal relations give even
+to trifles; it must have the charm which the mind can lend only to its
+cherished offspring.
+
+Considered as a thing of literature, no other sort of book admits of
+such variety of topics, style, and treatment as the novel. As diverse
+in talent and quality as the story-teller himself,--now harlequin, now
+gossip, now threnodist,--with weird ghostliness, moping melancholy,
+uncouth laughter, or gentle serious smile,--now relating the story, with
+childlike interest in it, now with a good heart and now with a bad heart
+ridiculing mankind, now allegorical with rich meanings, now freighting
+the little story-cricket that creeps along from page to page with
+immense loads of science, history, politics, ethics, religion,
+criticism, and prophecy,--always regarded with kindness, always welcomed
+in idleness, always presenting in a simple way some spectacle of
+merriment or grief, as changeful as the seasons or the fashions,--with
+all its odd characteristics, the novel is remarkably popular, and not
+lightly to be esteemed as an element in our social and mental culture.
+
+There is probably no other class of books, with literary pretensions,
+that contain so little thinking, in proportion to their quantity of
+matter, as novels. They can scarcely be called organic productions, for
+they may be written and published in sections, like one of the lowest
+classes of animals, which have no organization, but live equally well in
+parts, and run off in opposite directions when cut in halves. Thoughts
+and books, like living creatures, have their grades, and it is only
+those which stand lowest in respect of intellectuality that admit of
+fractional existence. A finished work of the mind is so delicately
+adjusted and closely related, part to part, that a fracture would be
+fatal. Conceive of Phidias sending off from his studio at Athens his
+statue of Jupiter Olympius in monthly numbers,--despatching now the
+feet, now the legs, now the trunk, in successive pieces, now the
+shoulders, and at last crowning the whole with a head!
+
+The composition of novels must be reckoned, in design at least, one of
+the fine arts, but in fact they belong rather to periodical than to
+immortal literature. They do not submit to severity of treatment, abide
+by no critical laws, but are the gypsies and Bohemians of literature,
+bringing all the savagery of wild genius into the _salons_ of taste.
+Though tolerated, admired, and found to be interesting, they do not
+belong to the system of things, play no substantial part in the serious
+business of life, but, as the world moves on, give place to their
+successors, not having developed any principle, presented any picture,
+or stated any fact, in a way to suggest ideas more than social
+phenomena. They are not permanent, therefore, because finally only
+ideas, and not facts, are generally remembered; the past is known to us
+more, and exclusively as it becomes remote, by the conceptions of poets
+and philosophic historians, the myriads of events which occupied a
+generation being forgotten, and all the pith and meaning of them being
+transmitted in a stanza or a chapter. Poetry never grows old, and
+whatsoever masterpieces of thought always win the admiration of the
+enlightened; but many a novel that has been the lion of a season passes
+at once away, never more to be heard of here. With few exceptions, the
+splendid popularity that greets the best novels fades away in time
+slowly or rapidly. A half-century is a fatal trial for the majority; few
+are revived, and almost none are read, after a century; will anybody
+but the most curious antiquary be interested in them after one or
+two thousand years? Without delaying to give the full rationale of
+exceptions which vex this like every other general remark, it may
+be added briefly that fairy stories are in their nature fantastic
+mythological poems, most proper to the heroic age of childhood, that
+historical romances may be in essence and dignity fantastic histories or
+epics, and that, from whatever point of view, Cervantes remains hardly
+less admirable than Ariosto, or the "Bride of Lammermoor" than the "Lay
+of the Last Minstrel."
+
+In the mental as in the physical world, art, diamonds and gems come by
+long elaboration. A thoughtless man may write perennially, while the
+result of silent meditation and a long tortured soul may be expressed
+in a minute. The work of the former is akin to conversation, one of the
+fugitive pleasures of a day; that of the latter will, perchance, be a
+star in the firmament of the mind. Eugène Sue and Béranger both wished
+to communicate their reflections on society. The former dissipated his
+energies in the _salons_, was wise and amusing over wine, exchanged
+learning and jests, studied the drawing-room as if it were the
+macrocosm, returned to his chamber, put on kid gloves, and from the odds
+and ends of his dishevelled wits wrote at a gallop, without ever looking
+back, his "Mystères de Paris." The latter lived in an attic year after
+year, contemplated with cheerful anxiety the volatile world of France
+and the perplexed life of man, and elaborated word by word, with
+innumerable revisions, his short songs, which are gems of poetry,
+charming at once the ear and the heart. Novels are perhaps too easily
+written to be of lasting value. An unpremeditated word, in which the
+thoughts of years are exploded, may be one of the most admirable of
+intellectual phenomena, but an unpremeditated volume can only be a
+demonstration of human weakness.
+
+The argument thus far has been in favor of the Muses. Hellenic taste and
+the principles of high art ratify the condemnation passed on the novel
+by the aesthetic goddesses. A wider view, however, will annul the
+sentence, giving in its stead a warning and a lesson. If the prose
+romance be not Hellenic, it is nevertheless humane, and has been in
+honor almost universally throughout the Orient and the Occident. Its
+absence from the classical literature was a marvel and exception, a
+phenomenon of the clearest-minded and most active of races, who thought,
+but did not contemplate,--whose ideal world consisted only of simple,
+but stately legends of bright-limbed gods and heroes. A felicitous
+production of high art, also, is among the rarest of exceptions, and
+will be till the Millennium. Myriads of comparative failures follow in
+the suite of a masterpiece. We have, therefore, judged the novel by an
+impracticable standard, by a comparison with the highest aims rather
+than the usual attainments of other branches of literary art. Human
+weakness makes poetry, philosophy, and history imperfect in execution,
+though they aspire to absolute beauty and truth; human weakness
+suggested the novel, which is imperfect in design, written as an
+amusement and relief, in despair of sounding the universe. A novel is in
+its nature and as a matter of necessity an artistic failure; it
+pretends to nothing higher; but under the slack laws which govern its
+composition, multitudes of fine and suggestive characters, incidents,
+and sayings may be smuggled into it, contrary to all the usages and
+rules of civilized literature. Hence the secret of its popularity,
+that it is the organ of average as distinguished from highest thought.
+Science and art are the goals of destiny, but rarely is there a
+thinker or writer who has an eye single to them. It is an heroic,
+self-sacrificing, and small platoon which in every age brunts Fate, and,
+fighting on the shadowy frontier, makes conquests from the realm of
+darkness. Their ideas are passed back from hand to hand, and become
+known in fragments and potent as tendencies among the mass of the race,
+who live in the circle of the attained and travel in the routine of
+ages. The novelist is one of the number who half comprehend them, and
+borrows them from all quarters to introduce into the rich _mélange_ of
+his work. To solve a social problem, to reproduce an historical age or
+character, or to develop the truth and poetry latent in any event, is
+difficult, and not many will either lead or follow a severe attempt;
+but the novelist will merrily chronicle his story and link with it in a
+thousand ways some salient reminiscences of life and thought.
+
+What, then, is the highest excellence that the novel can attain? It is
+the carnival of literary art. It deals sympathetically and humorously,
+not philosophically and strictly, with the panorama and the principles
+of life. A transcript, but not a transfiguration of Nature, it assumes a
+thousand forms, surpassing all other books in the immense latitude left
+to the writer, in the wild variety of things which it may touch, but
+need not grasp. Its elements are the forests, the cities, and the seven
+ages of man,--characters and fortunes how diversified! All species
+of thinkers and actors, of ideas and passions, all the labyrinthine
+complications and scenery of existence, may be illustrated in persons or
+introduced by-the-by; into whatever colors make up the phantasmagoria
+of collective humanity the novelist may dip his brush, in painting
+his moving picture. Yet problems need not be fully appreciated, nor
+characters or actions profoundly understood. It must be an engrossing
+story, but the theme and treatment are as lawless as the conversation of
+an evening party. The mind plays through all the realm of its knowledge
+and experience, and sheds sparks from all the torches of thought, as
+scenes and topics succeed each other. The pure forms of literature may
+be reminiscences present to the imagination, the germs of new truths and
+social arrangements may occupy the reason; but the novelist is neither
+practical, nor philosophical, nor artistic; he is simply in a dream; and
+pictures of the world and fragments of old ideas pass before him, as the
+sacred meanings of religion flitted about the populace in a grotesque
+mediæval festival of the Church. Conceive the stars dropped from their
+place in the apparent heavens, and playing at shuttlecock with each
+other and with boys, and having a heyday of careless joyousness here
+below, instead of remaining in sublime dignity to guide and inspire men
+who look up to them by night! Even such are the epic, the lyric, the
+drama, the history, and the philosophy, as collected together in the
+revelries of the novel. To state the degree of excellence possible to
+a style as perverse as it is entertaining, to measure the wisdom of
+essential folly, is difficult; and yet it may be said that the strength
+of the novel is in its lawlessness, which leaves the author of genius
+free to introduce his creations just as they occur to him, and the
+author of talent free to range through all books and all time and
+reproduce brilliant sayings and odd characters,--which, with no other
+connecting thread than a story, freaks like a spirit through every
+shade of feeling and region of thought, from the domestic hearth to the
+ultimate bounds of speculative inquiry,--and which, by its daring
+and careless combinations of incongruous elements, exhibits a free
+embodiment in prose of the peculiar genius of the romantic.
+
+And some philosophers have styled romance the special glory of
+Christianity. It is certainly the characteristic of critical as
+distinguished from organic periods,--of the mind acting mystically in
+a savage and unknown universe, rather than of the mind that has reduced
+the heavens and earth to its arts and sciences. The novel, therefore,
+as the wildest organ of romance, is most appropriate to a time of great
+intellectual agitation, when intellectual men are but half-conscious of
+the tendencies that are setting about them, and consequently cease to
+propose to themselves final goals, do not attempt scrupulous art, but
+play jubilantly with current facts. Hence, perhaps, its popularity since
+the first conflicts of the Protestant Reformation, and especially since
+the great French Revolution, when amid new inventions and new ideas
+mankind has contemplatively looked for the coming events, the new
+historical eras, which were casting their shadows before.
+
+When, some time, Christian art shall become classical, and Christian
+ideas be developed by superior men as fairly as the Hellenic conceptions
+were, the novel may either assume to itself some peculiar excellency, or
+may cease to hold the comparative rank in literature which it enjoys at
+present. Then the numberless prose romances which occupy the present
+generation of readers will, perhaps, be collected in some immense
+_corpus_, like the Byzantine historians, will be reckoned among the
+curiosities of literature, and will at least have the merit of making
+the study of antiquities easy and interesting. There is an old
+couplet,--
+
+ Of all those arts in which the wise excel,
+ Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.
+
+At a time when extemporaneous composition and thoughtless reading are
+much in fashion, it will not be amiss to invoke profounder studies, and
+slower, but more useful and permanent results. Let it be remembered that
+even the Divine Mind first called into being the chaos of creation, and
+then in seven days reviewed and elaborated it into a beautiful order.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+A LEGEND OF MARYLAND.
+
+"AN OWRE TRUE TALE."
+
+[Concluded.]
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE OLD CITY.
+
+
+Let me now once more shift the scene. In the summer of 1684, the
+peaceful little port of St. Mary's was visited by a phenomenon of rare
+occurrence in those days. A ship of war of the smaller class, with the
+Cross of St. George sparkling on her broad flag, came gliding to an
+anchorage abreast the town. The fort of St. Inigoes gave the customary
+salute, which I have reason to believe was not returned. Not long after
+this, a bluff, swaggering, vulgar captain came on shore. He made no
+visit of respect or business to any member of the Council. He gave no
+report of his character or the purpose of his visit, but strolled to the
+tavern,--I suppose to that kept by Mr. Cordea, who, in addition to his
+calling of keeper of the ordinary, was the most approved shoemaker of
+the city,--and here regaled himself with a potation of strong waters.
+It is likely that he then repaired to Mr. Blakiston's, the King's
+Collector,--a bitter and relentless enemy of the Lord Proprietary,--and
+there may have met Kenelm Chiseldine, John Coode, Colonel Jowles, and
+others noted for their hatred of the Calvert family, and in such company
+as this indulged himself in deriding Lord Baltimore and his government,
+During his stay in the port, his men came on shore, and, imitating their
+captain's unamiable temper, roamed in squads about the town and its
+neighborhood, conducting themselves in a noisy, hectoring manner towards
+the inhabitants, disturbing the repose of the quiet burghers, and
+shocking their ears with ribald abuse of the authorities. These
+roystering sailors--I mention it as a point of historical interest--had
+even the audacity to break into Alderman Garret Van Swearingen's garden,
+and to pluck up and carry away his cabbages and other vegetables,
+and--according to the testimony of Mr. Cordea, whose indignation was the
+more intense from his veneration for the Alderman, and from the fact
+that he made his Worship's shoes--they would have killed one of his
+Worship's sheep, if his (Cordea's) man had not prevented them; and
+after this, as if on purpose more keenly to lacerate his feelings, they
+brought these cabbages to Cordea's house, and there boiled them before
+his eyes,--he being sick and not able to drive them away.
+
+After a few days spent in this manner, the swaggering captain--whose
+name, it was soon bruited about, was Thomas Allen, of his Majesty's
+Navy--went on board of his ketch,--or brig, as we should call it,--the
+Quaker, weighed anchor, and set sail towards the Potomac, and thence
+stood down the Bay upon the coast of Virginia. Every now and then, after
+his departure, there came reports to the Council of insults offered by
+Captain Allen to the skippers of sundry Bay craft and other peaceful
+traders on the Chesapeake; these insults consisting generally in
+wantonly compelling them to heave to and submit to his search, in
+vexatiously detaining them, overhauling their papers, and offending
+them with coarse vituperation of themselves, as well as of the Lord
+Proprietary and his Council.
+
+About a month later the Quaker was observed to enter the Patuxent River,
+and cast anchor just inside of the entrance, near the Calvert County
+shore, and opposite Christopher Rousby's house at Drum Point. This
+was--says my chronicle--on Thursday, the 30th of October, in this year
+1684. As yet Captain Allen had not condescended to make any report of
+his arrival in the Province to any officer of the Proprietary.
+
+On Sunday morning, the 2d of November, the city was thrown into a
+state of violent ebullition--like a little red-hot tea-kettle--by the
+circulation of a rumor that got wind about the hour the burghers were
+preparing to go to church. It was brought from Patuxent late in the
+previous night, and was now whispered from one neighbor to another, and
+soon came to boil with an extraordinary volume of steam. Stripping it
+of the exaggeration natural to such an excitement, the rumor was
+substantially this: That Colonel Talbot, hearing of the arrival of
+Captain Allen in the Patuxent on Thursday, and getting no message or
+report from him, set off on Friday morning, in an angry state of mind,
+and rode over to Patuxent, determined to give the unmannerly captain a
+lesson upon his duty. That as soon as he reached Mattapony House,
+he took his boat and went on board the ketch. That there he found
+Christopher Rousby, the King's Collector, cronying with Captain Allen,
+and upholding him in his disrespect to the government. That Colonel
+Talbot was very sharp upon Rousby, not liking him for old grudges, and
+more moved against him now; and that he spoke his mind both to Captain
+Allen and Christopher Rousby, and so got into a high quarrel with them.
+That when he had said all he desired to say to them, he made a move to
+leave the ketch in his boat, intending to return to Mattapony House; but
+they who were in the cabin prevented him, and would not let him go. That
+thereupon the quarrel broke out afresh, and became more bitter; and it
+being now in the night, and all in a great heat of passion, the parties
+having already come from words to blows, Talbot drew his skean, or
+dagger, and stabbed Rousby to the heart. That nothing was known on
+shore of the affray till Saturday evening, when the body was brought to
+Rousby's house; after which it became known to the neighborhood; and one
+of the men of Major Sewall's plantation, which adjoined Rousby's, having
+thus heard of it, set out and rode that night over to St. Mary's with
+the news, which he gave to the Major before midnight. It was added, that
+Colonel Talbot was now detained on board of the ketch, as a prisoner, by
+Captain Allen.
+
+This was the amount of the dreadful story over which the gossips of St.
+Mary's were shaking their wise heads and discoursing on "crowner's quest
+law" that Sunday morning.
+
+As soon as Major Sewall received these unhappy midnight tidings, he went
+instantly to his colleague, Colonel Darnall, and communicated them to
+him; and they, being warm friends of Talbot's, were very anxious to get
+him out of the custody of this Captain Allen. They therefore, on Sunday
+morning, issued a writ directed to Roger Brooke, the sheriff of Calvert
+County, commanding him to arrest the prisoner and bring him before
+the Council. Their next move was to ride over--the same morning--to
+Patuxent, taking with them Mr. Robert Carvil, and John Llewellin, their
+secretary. Upon reaching the river, all four went on board the ketch
+to learn the particulars of the quarrel. These particulars are not
+preserved in the record; and we have nothing better than our conjectures
+as to what they disclosed. We know nothing specific of the cause or
+character of the quarrel. The visitors found Talbot loaded with irons,
+and Captain Allen in a brutal state of exasperation, swearing that he
+would not surrender his prisoner to the authorities of the Province, but
+would carry him to Virginia and deliver him to the government there, to
+be dealt with as Lord Effingham should direct. He was grossly insulting
+to the two members of the Council who had come on this inquiry; and
+after they had left his vessel, in the pinnace, to return to the shore,
+he affected to believe that they had some concealed force lying in wait
+to seize the pinnace and its crew, and so ordered them back on board,
+but after a short detention thought better of it, and suffered them
+again to depart.
+
+The contumacy of the captain, and the declaration of his purpose to
+carry away Talbot out of the jurisdiction of the Province within which
+the crime was committed, and to deliver him to the Governor of Virginia,
+was a grave assault upon the dignity of the government and a gross
+contempt of the public authorities, which required the notice of the
+Council. A meeting of this body was therefore held on the Patuxent,
+at Rich Neck, on the morning of the 4th of November. I find that five
+members were present on that occasion. Besides Colonel Darnall and Major
+Sewall, there were Counsellor Tailler and Colonels Digges and Burgess.
+Here the matter was debated and ended in a feeble resolve,--that, if
+this Captain Allen should persist in his contumacy and take Talbot to
+Virginia, the Council should immediately demand of Lord Effingham
+his redelivery into this Province. Alas, they could only scold! This
+resolution was all they could oppose to the bullying captain and the
+guns of the troublesome little Quaker.
+
+Allen, after hectoring awhile in this fashion, and raising the wrath of
+the Colonels of the Council until they were red in the cheeks, defiantly
+took his departure, carrying with him his prisoner, in spite of the
+vehement indignation of the liegemen of the Province.
+
+We may imagine the valorous anger of our little metropolis at this
+act or crime of lese-majesty. I can see the group of angry burghers,
+collected on the porch of Cordea's tavern, in a fume as they listen to
+Master John Llewellin's account of what had taken place,--Llewellin
+himself as peppery as his namesake when he made Ancient Pistol eat
+his leek; and I fancy I can hear Alderman Van Swearingen's choleric
+explosion against Lord Effingham, supposing his Lordship should presume
+to slight the order of the Council in respect to Talbot's return.
+
+But these fervors were too violent to last. Christopher Rousby was duly
+deposited under the greensward upon the margin of Harper's Creek, where
+I found him safe, if not sound, more than a hundred and fifty years
+afterwards. The metropolis gradually ceased to boil, and slowly fell
+to its usual temperature of repose, and no more disturbed itself with
+thoughts of the terrible captain. Talbot, upon being transferred to the
+dominion of Virginia, was confined in the jail of Gloucester County, in
+the old town of Gloucester, on the northern bank of York River.
+
+The Council now opened their correspondence with Lord Effingham,
+demanding the surrender of their late colleague. On their part, it was
+marked by a deferential respect, which, it is evident, they did not
+feel, and which seems to denote a timid conviction of the favor of
+Virginia and the disgrace of Maryland in the personal feelings of the
+King. It is manifest they were afraid of giving offence to the lordly
+governor of the neighboring Province. On the part of Lord Effingham, the
+correspondence is cavalier, arrogant, and peremptory.
+
+The Council write deploringly to his Lordship. They "pray"--as they
+phrase it--"in humble, civil, and obliging terms, to have the prisoner
+safely returned to this government." They add,--"Your Excellency's great
+wisdom, prudence, and integrity, as well as neighborly affection and
+kindness for this Province, manifested and expressed, will, we doubt
+not, spare us the labor of straining for arguments to move your
+Excellency's consideration to this our so just and reasonable demand."
+Poor Colonel Darnall, Poor Colonel Digges, and the rest of you Colonels
+and Majors,--to write such whining hypocrisy as this! George Talbot
+would not have written to Lord Effingham in such phrase, if one of you
+had been unlawfully transported to his prison and Talbot were your
+pleader!
+
+The nobleman to whom this servile language was addressed was a hateful
+despot, who stands marked in the history of Virginia for his oppressive
+administration, his arrogance, and his faithlessness.
+
+To give this beseeching letter more significance and the flattery it
+contained more point, it was committed to the charge of two gentlemen
+who were commissioned to deliver it in person to his Lordship. These
+were Mr. Clement Hill and Mr. Anthony Underwood.
+
+Effingham's answer was cool, short, and admonitory. The essence of it
+is in these words:--"We do not think it warrantable to comply with your
+desires, but shall detain Talbot prisoner until his Majesty's particular
+commands be known therein." A postscript is added of this import:--"I
+recommend to your consideration, that you take care, as far as in you
+lies, that, in the matter of the Customs, his Majesty receive no further
+detriment by this unfortunate accident."
+
+One almost rejoices to read such an answer to the fulsome language which
+drew it out. This correspondence runs through several such epistles. The
+Council complain of the rudeness and coarse behavior of Captain Allen,
+and particularly of his traducing Lord Baltimore's government and
+attempting to excite the people against it. Lord Effingham professes to
+disbelieve such charges against "an officer who has so long served his
+King with fidelity, and who could not but know what was due to his
+superiors."
+
+Occasionally this same faithful officer, Captain Allen himself,
+reappears upon the stage. We catch him at a gentleman's house in
+Virginia, boasting over his cups--for he seems to have paid habitual
+tribute to a bowl of punch--that he will break up the government of
+Maryland, and annex this poor little Province of ours to Virginia: a
+fact worth notice just now, as it makes it clear that annexation is not
+the new idea of the Nineteenth Century, but lived in very muddy brains
+a long time ago. I now quit this correspondence to look after a bit of
+romance in a secret adventure.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+A PLOT.
+
+
+We must return to the Manor of New Connaught upon the Elk River.
+
+There we shall find a sorrowful household. The Lord of the Manor is in
+captivity; his people are dejected with a presentiment that they are to
+see him no more; his wife is lamenting with her children, and counting
+the weary days of his imprisonment.
+
+ "His hounds they all run masterless,
+ His hawks they flee from tree to tree."
+
+Everything in the hospitable woodland home is changed. November,
+December, January had passed by since Talbot was lodged in the
+Gloucester prison, and still no hope dawned upon the afflicted lady. The
+forest around her bowled with the rush of the winter wind, but neither
+the wilderness nor the winter was so desolate as her own heart. The fate
+of her husband was in the hands of his enemies. She trembled at the
+thought of his being forced to a trial for his life in Virginia, where
+he would be deprived of that friendly sympathy so necessary even to the
+vindication of innocence, and where he ran the risk of being condemned
+without defence, upon the testimony of exasperated opponents.
+
+But she was a strong-hearted and resolute woman, and would not despair.
+She had many friends around her,--friends devoted to her husband and
+herself. Amongst these was Phelim Murray, a cornet of cavalry under the
+command of Talbot,--a brave, reckless, true-hearted comrade, who had
+often shared the hospitality, the adventurous service, and the sports of
+his commander.
+
+To Murray I attribute the planning of the enterprise I am now about
+to relate. He had determined to rescue his chief from his prison in
+Virginia. His scheme required the coöperation of Mrs. Talbot and one of
+her youngest children,--the pet boy, perhaps, of the family, some two
+or three years old,--I imagine, the special favorite of the father. The
+adventure was a bold one, involving many hardships and perils. Towards
+the end of January, the lady, accompanied by her boy with his nurse, and
+attended by two Irish men-servants, repaired to St. Mary's, where she
+was doubtless received as a guest in the mansion of the Proprietary, now
+the residence of young Benedict Leonard and those of the family who had
+not accompanied Lord Baltimore to England.
+
+Whilst Mrs. Talbot tarried here, the Cornet was busy in his
+preparations. He had brought the Colonel's shallop from Elk River to the
+Patuxent, and was here concerting a plan to put the little vessel under
+the command of some ostensible owner who might appear in the character
+of its master to any over-curious or inopportune questioner. He had
+found a man exactly to his hand in a certain Roger Skreene, whose name
+might almost be thought to be adopted for the occasion and to express
+the part he had to act. He was what we may call the sloop's husband, but
+was bound to do whatever Murray commanded, to ask no questions, and
+to be profoundly ignorant of the real objects of the expedition.
+This pliant auxiliary had, like many thrifty--or more probably
+thriftless--persons of that time, a double occupation. He was amphibious
+in his habits, and lived equally on land and water. At home he was a
+tailor, and abroad a seaman, frequently plying his craft as a skipper
+on the Bay, and sufficiently known in the latter vocation to render his
+present employment a matter to excite no suspicious remark. It will
+be perceived in the course of his present adventure that he was quite
+innocent of any avowed complicity in the design which he was assisting.
+
+Murray had a stout companion with him, a good friend to Talbot, probably
+one of the familiar frequenters of the Manor House of New Connaught,--a
+bold fellow, with a hand and a heart both ready for any perilous
+service. He may have been a comrade of the Cornet's in his troop. His
+name was Hugh Riley,--a name that has been traditionally connected with
+dare-devil exploits ever since the days of Dermot McMorrogh. There have
+been, I believe, but few hard fights in the world, to which Irishmen
+have had anything to say, without a Hugh Riley somewhere in the thickest
+part of them.
+
+The preparations being now complete, Murray anchored his shallop near a
+convenient landing,--perhaps within the Mattapony Creek.
+
+In the dead of winter, about the 30th of January, 1685, Mrs. Talbot,
+with her servants, her child, and nurse, set forth from the Proprietary
+residence in St. Mary's, to journey over to the Patuxent,--a cold, bleak
+ride of fifteen miles. The party were all on horseback: the young boy,
+perhaps, wrapped in thick coverings, nestling in the arms of one of the
+men: Mrs. Talbot braving the sharp wind in hood and cloak, and warmed
+by her own warm heart, which beat with a courageous pulse against the
+fierce blasts that swept and roared across her path. Such a cavalcade,
+of course, could not depart from St. Mary's without observation at any
+season; but at this time of the year so unusual a sight drew every
+inhabitant to the windows, and set in motion a current of gossip that
+bore away all other topics from every fireside. The gentlemen of the
+Council, too, doubtless had frequent conference with the unhappy wife of
+their colleague, during her sojourn in the Government House, and perhaps
+secretly counselled with her on her adventure. Whatever outward or
+seeming pretext may have been adopted for this movement, we can hardly
+suppose that many friends of the Proprietary were ignorant of its
+object. We have, indeed, evidence that the enemies of the Proprietary
+charged the Council with a direct connivance in the scheme of Talbot's
+escape, and made it a subject of complaint against Lord Baltimore that
+he afterwards approved of it.
+
+Upon her arrival at the Patuxent, Mrs. Talbot went immediately on board
+of the sloop, with her attendants. There she found the friendly cornet
+and his comrade, Hugh Riley, on the alert to distinguish their loyalty
+in her cause. The amphibious Master Skreene was now at the head of a
+picked crew,--the whole party consisting of five stout men, with the
+lady, her child, and nurse. All the men but Skreene were sons of the
+Emerald Isle,--of a race whose historical boast is the faithfulness of
+their devotion to a friend in need and their chivalrous courtesy to
+woman, but still more their generous and gallant championship of woman
+in distress. On this occasion this national sentiment was enhanced when
+it was called into exercise in behalf of the sorrowful lady of the chief
+of their border settlements.
+
+They set sail from the Patuxent on Saturday, the 31st of January. On
+Wednesday, the fifth day afterwards, they landed on the southern bank of
+the Rappahannock, at the house of Mr. Ralph Wormeley, near the mouth of
+the river. This long voyage of five days over so short a distance would
+seem to indicate that they departed from the common track of navigation
+to avoid notice.
+
+The next morning Mr. Wormeley furnished them horses and a servant, and
+Mrs. Talbot, with the nurse and child, under the conduct of Cornet
+Murray, set out for Gloucester,--a distance of some twenty miles. The
+day following,--that is, on Friday,--the servant returned with the
+horses, having left the party behind. Saturday passed and part of
+Sunday, when, in the evening, Mrs. Talbot and the Cornet reappeared at
+Mr. Wormeley's. The child and nurse had been left behind; and this was
+accounted for by Mrs. Talbot's saying she had left the child with his
+father, to remain with him until she should return to Virginia. I infer
+that the child was introduced into this adventure to give some seeming
+to the visit which might lull suspicion and procure easier access to the
+prisoner; and the leaving of him in Gloucester proves that Mrs. Talbot
+had friends, and probably confederates there, to whose care he was
+committed.
+
+As soon as the party had left the shallop, upon their first arrival at
+Mr. Wormeley's, the wily Master Skreene discovered that he had business
+at a landing farther up the river; and thither he straightway took his
+vessel,--Wormeley's being altogether too suspicious a place for him to
+frequent. And now, when Mrs. Talbot had returned to Wormeley's, Roger's
+business above, of course, was finished, and he dropped down again
+opposite the house on Monday evening; and the next morning took the
+Cornet and the lady on board. Having done this, he drew out into the
+river. This brings us to Tuesday, the 10th of February.
+
+As soon as Mrs. Talbot was once more embarked in the shallop, Murray and
+Riley (I give Master Skreene's own account of the facts, as I find it in
+his testimony subsequently taken before the Council) made a pretext to
+go on shore, taking one of the men with them. They were going to look
+for a cousin of this man,--so they told Skreene,--and besides that,
+intended to go to a tavern to buy a bottle of rum: all of which Skreene
+gives the Council to understand he verily believed to be the real object
+of their visit.
+
+The truth was, that, as soon as Murray and Riley and their companion had
+reached the shore, they mounted on horseback and galloped away in the
+direction of Gloucester prison. From the moment they disappeared on this
+gallop until their return, we have no account of what they did. Roger
+Skreene's testimony before the Council is virtuously silent on this
+point.
+
+After this party was gone, Mrs. Talbot herself took command, and, with a
+view to more privacy, ordered Roger to anchor near the opposite shore of
+the river, taking advantage of the concealment afforded by a small inlet
+on the northern side. Skreene says he did this at her request, because
+she expressed a wish to taste some of the oysters from that side of the
+river, which he, with his usual facility, believed to be the only reason
+for getting into this unobserved harbor; and, merely to gratify this
+wish, he did as she desired.
+
+The day went by slowly to the lady on the water. Cold February, a little
+sloop, and the bleak roadstead at the mouth of the Rappahannock brought
+but few comforts to the anxious wife, who sat muffled upon that unstable
+deck, watching the opposite shore, whilst the ceaseless plash of the
+waves breaking upon her ear numbered the minutes that marked the weary
+hours, and the hours that marked the still more weary day. She watched
+for the party who had galloped into the sombre pine-forest that
+sheltered the road leading to Gloucester, and for the arrival of that
+cousin of whom Murray spoke to Master Skreene.
+
+But if the time dragged heavily with her, it flew with the Cornet and
+his companions. We cannot tell when the twenty miles to Gloucester were
+thrown behind them, but we know that the whole forty miles of going and
+coming were accomplished by sunrise the next morning. For the deposition
+tells us that Roger Skreene had become very impatient at the absence of
+his passengers,--at least, so he swears to the Council; and he began to
+think, just after the sun was up, that, as they had not returned, they
+must have got into a revel at the tavern, and forgotten themselves;
+which careless demeanor of theirs made him think of recrossing the river
+and of going ashore to beat them up; when, lo! all of a sudden, he spied
+a boat coming round the point within which he lay. And here arises a
+pleasant little dramatic scene, of some interest to our story.
+
+Mrs. Talbot had been up at the dawn, and watched upon the deck,
+straining her sight, until she could see no more for tears; and at
+length, unable to endure her emotion longer, had withdrawn to the cabin.
+Presently Skreene came hurrying down to tell her that the boat was
+coming,--and, what surprised him, there were _four_ persons in it. "Who
+is this fourth man?" he asked her,--with his habitual simplicity, "and
+how are we to get him back to the shore again?"--a very natural question
+for Roger to ask, after all that had passed in his presence! Mrs. Talbot
+sprang to her feet,--her eyes sparkling, as she exclaimed, with a cheery
+voice, "Oh, his cousin has come!"--and immediately ran upon the deck
+to await the approaching party. There were pleasant smiling faces all
+around, as the four men came over the sloop's side; and although the
+testimony is silent as to the fact, there might have been some little
+kissing on the occasion. The new-comer was in a rough dress, and had the
+exterior of a servant; and our skipper says in his testimony, that "Mrs.
+Talbot spoke to him in the Irish language": very volubly, I have no
+doubt, and that much was said that was never translated. When they
+came to a pause in this conversation, she told Skreene, by way of
+interpretation, "he need not be uneasy about the stranger's going on
+shore, nor delay any longer, as this person had made up his mind to go
+with them to Maryland."
+
+So the boat was made fast, the anchor was weighed, the sails were set,
+and the little sloop bent to the breeze and kissed the wave, as she
+rounded the headland and stood up the Bay, with Colonel George Talbot
+encircling with his arm his faithful wife, and with the gallant Cornet
+Murray sitting at his side.
+
+They had now an additional reason for caution against search. So Murray
+ordered the skipper to shape his course over to the eastern shore, and
+to keep in between the islands and the main. This is a broad circuit
+outside of their course; but Roger is promised a reward by Mrs. Talbot,
+to compensate him for his loss of time; and the skipper is very willing.
+They had fetched a compass, as the Scripture phrase is, to the shore of
+Dorset County, and steered inside of Hooper's Island, into the month of
+Hungary River. Here it was part of the scheme to dismiss the faithful
+Roger from further service. With this view they landed on the island and
+went to Mr. Hooper's house, where they procured a supply of provisions,
+and immediately afterwards reembarked,--having clean forgotten Roger,
+until they were once more under full sail up the Bay, and too far
+advanced to turn back!
+
+The deserted skipper bore his disappointment like a Christian; and being
+asked, on Hungary River, by a friend who met him there, and who gave his
+testimony before the Council, "What brought him there?" he replied, "He
+had been left on the island by Madam Talbot." And to another, "Where
+Madam Talbot was?" he answered, "She had gone up the Bay to her own
+house." Then, to a third question, "How he expected his pay?" he said,
+"He was to have it of Colonel Darnall and Major Sewall; and that Madam
+Talbot had promised him a hogshead of tobacco extra, for putting ashore
+at Hooper's Island." The last question was, "What news of Talbot?" and
+Roger's answer, "He had not been within twenty miles of him; neither did
+he know anything about the Colonel" !! But, on further discourse, he let
+fall, that "he knew the Colonel never would come to a trial,"--"that
+_he_ knew this; but neither man, woman, nor child should know it, but
+those who knew it already."
+
+So Colonel George Talbot is out of the hands of the proud Lord
+Effingham, and up the Bay with his wife and friends; and is buffeting
+the wintry head-winds in a long voyage to the Elk River, which, in due
+time, he reaches in safety.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+TROUBLES IN COUNCIL.
+
+
+Let us now turn back to see what is doing at St. Mary's.
+
+On the 17th of February comes to the Council a letter from Lord
+Effingham. It has the superscription, "These, with the greatest care and
+speed." It is dated on the 11th of February from Poropotanck, an Indian
+point on the York River above Gloucester, and memorable as being in the
+neighborhood of the spot where, some sixty years before these events,
+Pocahontas saved the life of that mirror of chivalry, Captain John
+Smith.
+
+The letter brings information "that last night [the 10th of February]
+Colonel Talbot escaped out of prison,"--a subsequent letter says, "by
+the corruption of his guard,"--and it is full of admonition, which has
+very much the tone of command, urging all strenuous efforts to recapture
+him, and particularly recommending a proclamation of "hue and cry."
+
+And now, for a month, there is a great parade in Maryland of
+proclamation, and hue and cry, and orders to sheriffs and county
+colonels to keep a sharp look-out everywhere for Talbot. But no person
+in the Province seems to be anxious to catch him, except Mr. Nehemiah
+Blakiston, the Collector, and a few others, who seem to have been
+ministering to Lord Effingham's spleen against the Council for not
+capturing him. His Lordship writes several letters of complaint at the
+delay and ill success of this pursuit, and some of them in no measured
+terms of courtesy. "I admire," he says in one of these, "at any slow
+proceedings in service wherein his Majesty is so concerned, and hope you
+will take off all occasions of future trouble, both unto me and you,
+of this nature, by manifesting yourselves zealous for his Majesty's
+service." They answer, that all imaginable care for the apprehending
+of Talbot has been taken by issuing proclamations, etc.,--but all have
+proved ineffectual, because Talbot upon all occasions flies and
+takes refuge "in the remotest parts of the woods and deserts of this
+Province."
+
+At this point we get some traces of Talbot. There is a deposition of
+Robert Kemble of Cecil County, and some other papers, that give us a few
+particulars by which I am enabled to construct my narrative.
+
+Colonel Talbot got to his own house about the middle of
+February,--nearly at the same time at which the news of his escape
+reached St. Mary's. He there lay warily watching the coming hue and cry
+for his apprehension. He collected his friends, armed them, and set them
+at watch and ward, at all his outposts. He had a disguise provided, in
+which he occasionally ventured abroad. Kemble met him, on the 19th of
+February, at George Oldfield's, on Elk River; and although the Colonel
+was disguised in a flaxen wig, and in other ways, Kemble says he knew
+him by hearing him cough in the night, in a room adjoining that in which
+Kemble slept. Whilst this witness was at Oldfield's, "Talbot's shallop,"
+he says, "was busking and turning before Oldfield's landing for several
+hours." The roads leading towards Talbot's house were all guarded by his
+friends, and he had a report made to him of every vessel that arrived in
+the river. By way of more permanent concealment, until the storm should
+blow over, he had made preparations to build himself a cabin, somewhere
+in the woods out of the range of the thoroughfares of the district. When
+driven by a pressing emergency which required more than ordinary care
+to prevent his apprehension, he betook himself to the cave on the
+Susquehanna, where, most probably, with a friend or two,--Cornet Murray
+I hope was one of them,--he lay perdu for a few days at a time, and
+then ventured back to speak a word of comfort and encouragement to the
+faithful wife who kept guard at home.
+
+In this disturbed and anxious alternation of concealment and flight
+Talbot passed the winter, until about the 25th of April, when, probably
+upon advice of friends, he voluntarily surrendered himself to the
+Council at St. Mary's, and was committed for trial in the provincial
+Court. The fact of the surrender was communicated to Lord Effingham by
+the Council, with a request that he would send the witnesses to Maryland
+to appear at his trial. Hereupon arose another correspondence with his
+Lordship, which is worthy of a moment's notice. Lord Effingham has lost
+nothing of his arrogance. He says, on the 12th of May, 1685, "I am so
+far from answering your desires, that I do hereby demand Colonel Talbot
+as my prisoner, in the King of England's name, and that you do forthwith
+convey him into Virginia. And to this my demand I expect your ready
+performance and compliance, upon your allegiance to his Majesty."
+
+I am happy to read the answer to this insolent letter, in which it will
+be seen that the spirit of Maryland was waked up on the occasion to its
+proper voice.--It is necessary to say, by way of explanation to one
+point in this answer, that the Governor of Virginia had received the
+news of the accession and proclamation of James the Second, and had not
+communicated it to the Council in Maryland. The Council give an answer
+at their leisure, having waited till the 1st of June, when they write
+to his Lordship, protesting against Virginia's exercising any
+superintendence over Maryland, and peremptorily refusing to deliver
+Talbot. They tell him "that we are desirous and conclude to await his
+Majesty's resolution, [in regard to the prisoner,] which we question not
+will be agreeable to his Lordship's Charter, and, consequently, contrary
+to your expectations. In the mean time we cannot but resent in some
+measure, for we are willing to let you see that we observe, the small
+notice you seem to take of this Government, (contrary to that amicable
+correspondence so often promised, and expected by us,) in not holding us
+worthy to be advised of his Majesty's being proclaimed, without which,
+certainly, we have not been enabled to do our duty in that particular.
+Such advice would have been gratefully received by your Excellency's
+humble servants." Thanks, Colonels Darnall and Digges and you other
+Colonels and Majors, for this plain outspeaking of the old Maryland
+heart against the arrogance of the "Right Honorable Lord Howard, Baron
+of Effingham, Captain General and Chief Governor of his Majesty's Colony
+of Virginia," as he styles himself! I am glad to see this change of
+tone, since that first letter of obsequious submission.
+
+Perhaps this change of tone may have had some connection with the recent
+change on the throne, in which the accession of a Catholic monarch may
+have given new courage to Maryland, and abated somewhat the confidence
+of Virginia. If so, it was but a transitory hope, born to a sad
+disappointment.
+
+The documents afford but little more information.
+
+Lord Baltimore, being in London, appears to have interceded with the
+King for some favor to Talbot, and writes to the Council on the third
+of July, "that it formerly was and still is the King's pleasure, that
+Talbot shall be brought over, in the Quaker Ketch, to England, to
+receive his trial there; and that, in order thereto, his Majesty had
+sent his commands to the Governor of Virginia to deliver him to
+Captain Allen, commander of said ketch, who is to bring him over." The
+Proprietary therefore directs his Council to send the prisoner to the
+Governor of Virginia, "to the end that his Majesty's pleasure may be
+fulfilled."
+
+This letter was received on the 7th of October, 1685, and Talbot was
+accordingly sent, under the charge of Gilbert Clarke and a proper guard,
+to Lord Effingham, who gives Clarke a regular business receipt, as if
+he had brought him a hogshead of tobacco, and appends to it a short
+apologetic explanation of his previous rudeness, which we may receive as
+another proof of his distrust of the favor of the new monarch. "I had
+not been so urgent," he says, "had I not had advices from England, last
+April, of the measures that were taken there concerning him."
+
+After this my chronicle is silent. We have no further tidings of Talbot.
+The only hint for a conjecture is the marginal note of "The Landholder's
+Assistant," got from Chalmers: "He was, I believe," says the note,
+"tried and convicted, and finally pardoned by James the Second." This is
+probably enough. For I suppose him to have been of the same family with
+that Earl of Tyrconnel equally distinguished for his influence with
+James the Second as for his infamous life and character, who held at
+this period unbounded sway at the English Court. I hope, for the honor
+of our hero, that he preserved no family-likeness to that false-hearted,
+brutal, and violent favorite, who is made immortal in Macaulay's pages
+as Lying Dick Talbot. Through his intercession his kinsman may have been
+pardoned, or even never brought to trial.
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+
+This is the end of my story. But, like all stories, it requires that
+some satisfaction should be given to the reader in regard to the
+dramatic proprieties. We have our several heroes to dispose of. Phelim
+Murray and Hugh Riley, who had both been arrested by the Council to
+satisfy public opinion as to their complicity in the plot for the
+escape, were both honorably discharged,--I suppose being found entirely
+innocent! Roger Skreene swore himself black and blue, as the phrase is,
+that he had not the least suspicion of the business in which he was
+engaged; and so he was acquitted! I am also glad to be able to say that
+our gallant Cornet Murray, in the winding-up of this business, was
+promoted by the Council to a captaincy of cavalry, and put in command of
+Christiana Fort and its neighborhood, to keep that formidable Quaker,
+William Penn, at a respectful distance. It would gratify me still more,
+if I could find warrant to add, that the Cornet enjoyed himself, and
+married the lady of his choice, with whom he has, unknown to us, been
+violently in love during these adventures, and that they lived happily
+together for many years. I hope this was so,--although the chronicle
+does not allow one to affirm it,--it being but a proper conclusion to
+such a romance as I have plucked out of our history.
+
+And so I have traced the tradition of the Cave to the end. What I have
+been able to certify furnishes the means of a shrewd estimate of the
+average amount of truth which popular traditions generally contain.
+There is always a fact at the bottom, lying under a superstructure of
+fiction,--truth enough to make the pursuit worth following. Talbot did
+not live in the Cave, but fled there occasionally for concealment. He
+had no hawks with him, but bred them in his own mews on the Elk River.
+The birds seen in after times were some of this stock, and not the
+solitary pair they were supposed to be. I dare say an expert naturalist
+would find many specimens of the same breed now in that region. But let
+us not be too critical on the tradition, which has led us into a quest
+through which I have been able to supply what I hope will be found to be
+a pleasant insight into that little world of action and passion,--with
+its people, its pursuits, and its gossips,--that, more than one hundred
+and seventy years ago, inhabited the beautiful banks of St. Mary's
+River, and wove the web of our early Maryland history.
+
+
+POSTSCRIPT.
+
+
+I have another link in the chain of Talbot's history, furnished me by a
+friend in Virginia. It comes since I have completed my narrative, and
+very accurately confirms the conjecture of Chalmers, quoted in the note
+of "The Landholder's Assistant." "As for Colonel Talbot, he was conveyed
+for trial to Virginia, from whence he made his escape, and, after being
+retaken, and, _I believe_, tried and convicted, was finally pardoned by
+King James II." This is an extract from the note. It is now ascertained
+that Talbot was not taken to England for trial, as Lord Baltimore, in
+his letter of the 6th of July, 1685, affirmed it was the King's pleasure
+he should be; but that he was tried and convicted in Virginia on the 22d
+of April, 1686, and, on the 26th of the same month, reprieved by order
+of the King; after which we may presume he received a full pardon, and
+perhaps was taken to England in obedience to the royal command, to await
+it there. The conviction and reprieve are recorded in a folio of the
+State Records of Virginia at Richmond, on a mutilated and scarcely
+legible sheet,--a copy of which I present to my reader with all its
+obliterations and broken syllables and sad gashes in the text, for his
+own deciphering. The MS. is in keeping with the whole story, and may be
+looked upon as its appropriate emblem. The story has been brought to
+light by chance, and has been rendered intelligible by close study and
+interpretation of fragmentary and widely separated facts, capable of
+being read only by one conversant with the text of human affairs, and
+who has the patience to grope through the trackless intervals of time,
+and the skill to supply the lost words and syllables of history by
+careful collation with those which are spared. How faithfully this
+accidentally found MS. typifies such a labor, the reader may judge from
+the literal copy of it I now offer to his perusal.
+
+[Transcriber's note: Gaps in the text below are signified with an
+asterisk.]
+
+ By his Excellency
+
+ Whereas his most Sacred Majesty has been Graciously pleased
+ by his Royall Com'ands to Direct and Com'and Me ffrancis
+ Lord Howard of Effingham his Maj'ties Lieut and Gov'r. Gen'll.
+ of Virginia that if George Talbott Esq'r. upon his Tryall should
+ be found Guilty of Killing M'r Christopher Rowsby, that Execution
+ should be suspended untill his Majesties pleasure should
+ be further signified unto Me; And forasmuch as the sd George
+ Talbott was Indicted upon the Statute of Stabbing and hath
+ Received a full and Legall Tryall in open Court on y'e Twentieth
+ and One and Twentieth dayes of this Instant Aprill, before his
+ Majesties Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and found Guilty of y'e
+ aforesaid fact and condemned for the Same, I, therefore, *ffrancis
+ Lord Howard, Baron of *ffingham, his Majesties Lieu't and Gov'r.
+ Gen'll. Of Virginia, by Virtue of *aj'ties Royall Com'ands
+ to Me given there * doe hereby Suspend *tion of the
+ Sentence of death * his Maj'ties Justices
+ * Terminer on the * till his Majesties
+ *erein be * nor any
+ * fail as yo* uttmost
+ * and for y'r soe doing this sh*
+
+ Given under my and * Seale
+
+ the 26th dayof Apri*
+
+ EFFINGHAM
+
+ To his Majesties Justices
+ of Oyer and Terminer.
+
+ Recordatur E Chillon Gen'l Car*
+
+ [Endorsed]
+
+ Talbott's Repreif
+ from L'd Howard
+ 1686 for Killing Ch'r. Rousby
+ Examined Sept. 24th
+ 26th Aprill 1686
+ Sentence of
+ ag'* Col Ta
+ Suspended
+ Aprill 26* 1*86
+
+
+
+
+PRINCE ADEB.
+
+
+ In Sana, oh, in Sana, God, the Lord,
+ Was very kind and merciful to me!
+ Forth from the Desert in my rags I came,
+ Weary and sore of foot. I saw the spires
+ And swelling bubbles of the golden domes
+ Rise through the trees of Sana, and my heart
+ Grew great within me with the strength of God;
+ And I cried out, "Now shall I right myself,--
+ I, Adeb the Despised,--for God is just!"
+ There he who wronged my father dwelt in peace,--
+ My warlike father, who, when gray hairs crept
+ Around his forehead, as on Lebanon
+ The whitening snows of winter, was betrayed
+ To the sly Imam, and his tented wealth
+ Swept from him, 'twixt the roosting of the cock
+ And his first crowing,--in a single night:
+ And I, poor Adeb, sole of all my race,
+ Smeared with my father's and my kinsmen's blood,
+ Fled through the Desert, till one day a tribe
+ Of hungry Bedouins found me in the sand,
+ Half mad with famine, and they took me up,
+ And made a slave of me,--of me, a prince!
+ All was fulfilled at last. I fled from them,
+ In rags and sorrow. Nothing but my heart,
+ Like a strong swimmer, bore me up against
+ The howling sea of my adversity.
+ At length o'er Sana, in the act to swoop,
+ I stood like a young eagle on a crag.
+ The traveller passed me with suspicious fear:
+ I asked for nothing; I was not a thief.
+ The lean dogs snuffed around me: my lank bones,
+ Fed on the berries and the crusted pools,
+ Were a scant morsel. Once, a brown-skinned girl
+ Called me a little from the common path,
+ And gave me figs and barley in a bag.
+ I paid her with a kiss, with nothing more,
+ And she looked glad; for I was beautiful,
+ And virgin as a fountain, and as cold.
+ I stretched her bounty, pecking, like a bird,
+ Her figs and barley, till my strength returned.
+ So when rich Sana lay beneath my eyes,
+ My foot was as the leopard's, and my hand
+ As heavy as the lion's brandished paw;
+ And underneath my burnished skin the veins
+ And stretching muscles played, at every step,
+ In wondrous motion. I was very strong.
+ I looked upon my body, as a bird
+ That bills his feathers ere he takes to flight,--
+ I, watching over Sana. Then I prayed;
+ And on a soft stone, wetted in the brook,
+ Ground my long knife; and then I prayed again.
+ God heard my voice, preparing all for me,
+ As, softly stepping down the hills,
+ I saw the Imam's summer-palace all ablaze
+ In the last flash of sunset. Every fount
+ Was spouting fire, and all the orange-trees
+ Bore blazing coals, and from the marble walls
+ And gilded spires and columns, strangely wrought,
+ Glared the red light, until my eyes were pained
+ With the fierce splendor. Till the night grew thick,
+ I lay within the bushes, next the door,
+ Still as a serpent, as invisible.
+ The guard hung round the portal. Man by man
+ They dropped away, save one lone sentinel,
+ And on his eyes God's finger lightly fell;
+ He slept half standing. Like a summer wind
+ That threads the grove, yet never turns a leaf,
+ I stole from shadow unto shadow forth;
+ Crossed all the marble court-yard, swung the door,
+ Like a soft gust, a little way ajar,--
+ My body's narrow width, no more,--and stood
+ Beneath the cresset in the painted hall.
+ I marvelled at the riches of my foe;
+ I marvelled at God's ways with wicked men.
+ Then I reached forth, and took God's waiting hand:
+ And so He led me over mossy floors,
+ Flowered with the silken summer of Shirar,
+ Straight to the Imam's chamber. At the door
+ Stretched a brawn eunuch, blacker than my eyes:
+ His woolly head lay like the Kaba-stone
+ In Mecca's mosque, as silent and as huge.
+ I stepped across it, with my pointed knife
+ Just missing a full vein along his neck,
+ And, pushing by the curtains, there I was,--
+ I, Adeb the Despised,--upon the spot
+ That, next to heaven, I longed for most of all.
+ I could have shouted for the joy in me.
+ Fierce pangs and flashes of bewildering light
+ Leaped through my brain and danced before my eyes.
+ So loud my heart beat that I feared its sound
+ Would wake the sleeper; and the bubbling blood
+ Choked in my throat, till, weaker than a child,
+ I reeled against a column, and there hung
+ In a blind stupor. Then I prayed again;
+ And, sense by sense, I was made whole once more.
+ I touched myself; I was the same; I knew
+ Myself to be lone Adeb, young and strong,
+ With nothing but a stride of empty air
+ Between me and God's justice. In a sleep,
+ Thick with the fumes of the accursed grape,
+ Sprawled the false Imam. On his shaggy breast,
+ Like a white lily heaving on the tide
+ Of some foul stream, the fairest woman slept
+ These roving eyes have ever looked upon.
+ Almost a child, her bosom barely showed
+ The change beyond her girlhood. All her charms
+ Were budding, but half opened; for I saw
+ Not only beauty wondrous in itself,
+ But possibility of more to be
+ In the full process of her blooming days.
+ I gazed upon her, and my heart grew soft,
+ As a parched pasture with the dew of heaven.
+ While thus I gazed, she smiled, and slowly raised
+ The long curve of her lashes; and we looked
+ Each upon each in wonder, not alarm,--
+ Not eye to eye, but soul to soul, we held
+ Each other for a moment. All her life
+ Seemed centred in the circle of her eyes.
+ She stirred no limb; her long-drawn, equal breath
+ Swelled out and ebbed away beneath her breast,
+ In calm unbroken. Not a sign of fear
+ Touched the faint color on her oval cheek,
+ Or pinched the arches of her tender mouth.
+ She took me for a vision, and she lay
+ With her sleep's smile unaltered, as in doubt
+ Whether real life had stolen into her dreams,
+ Or dreaming stretched into her outer life.
+ I was not graceless to a woman's eyes.
+ The girls of Damar paused to see me pass,
+ I walking in my rags, yet beautiful.
+ One maiden said, "He has a prince's air!"
+ I am a prince; the air was all my own.
+ So thought the lily on the Imam's breast;
+ And lightly as a summer mist, that lifts
+ Before the morning, so she floated up,
+ Without a sound or rustle of a robe,
+ From her coarse pillow, and before me stood
+ With asking eyes. The Imam never moved.
+ A stride and blow were all my need, and they
+ Were wholly in my power. I took her hand,
+ I held a warning finger to my lips,
+ And whispered in her small expectant ear,
+ "Adeb, the son of Akem!" She replied
+ In a low murmur, whose bewildering sound
+ Almost lulled wakeful me to sleep, and sealed
+ The sleeper's lids in tenfold slumber, "Prince,
+ Lord of the Imam's life and of my heart,
+ Take all thou seest,--it is thy right, I know,--
+ But spare the Imam for thy own soul's sake!"
+ Then I arrayed me in a robe of state,
+ Shining with gold and jewels; and I bound
+ In my long turban gems that might have bought
+ The lands 'twixt Babelmandeb and Sahan.
+ I girt about me, with a blazing belt,
+ A scimitar o'er which the sweating smiths
+ In far Damascus hammered for long years,
+ Whose hilt and scabbard shot a trembling light
+ From diamonds and rubies. And she smiled,
+ As piece by piece I put the treasures on,
+ To see me look so fair,--in pride she smiled.
+ I hung long purses at my side. I scooped,
+ From off a table, figs and dates and rice,
+ And bound them to my girdle in a sack.
+ Then over all I flung a snowy cloak,
+ And beckoned to the maiden. So she stole
+ Forth like my shadow, past the sleeping wolf
+ Who wronged my father, o'er the woolly head
+ Of the swart eunuch, down the painted court,
+ And by the sentinel who standing slept.
+ Strongly against the portal, through my rags,--
+ My old, base rags,--and through the maiden's veil,
+ I pressed my knife,--upon the wooden hilt
+ Was "Adeb, son of Akem," carved by me
+ In my long slavehood,--as a passing sign
+ To wait the Imam's waking. Shadows cast
+ From two high-sailing clouds upon the sand
+ Passed not more noiseless than we two, as one,
+ Glided beneath the moonlight, till I smelt
+ The fragrance of the stables. As I slid
+ The wide doors open, with a sudden bound
+ Uprose the startled horses; but they stood
+ Still as the man who in a foreign land
+ Hears his strange language, when my Desert call,
+ As low and plaintive as the nested dove's,
+ Fell on their listening ears. From stall to stall,
+ Feeling the horses with my groping hands,
+ I crept in darkness; and at length I came
+ Upon two sister mares, whose rounded sides,
+ Fine muzzles, and small heads, and pointed ears,
+ And foreheads spreading 'twixt their eyelids wide,
+ Long slender tails, thin manes, and coats of silk,
+ Told me, that, of the hundred steeds there stalled,
+ My hand was on the treasures. O'er and o'er
+ I felt their long joints, and down their legs
+ To the cool hoofs;--no blemish anywhere:
+ These I led forth and saddled. Upon one
+ I set the lily, gathered now for me,--
+ My own, henceforth, forever. So we rode
+ Across the grass, beside the stony path,
+ Until we gained the highway that is lost,
+ Leading from Sana, in the eastern sands:
+ When, with a cry that both the Desert-born
+ Knew without hint from whip or goading spur,
+ We dashed into a gallop. Far behind
+ In sparks and smoke the dusty highway rose;
+ And ever on the maiden's face I saw,
+ When the moon flashed upon it, the strange smile
+ It wore on waking. Once I kissed her mouth,
+ When she grew weary, and her strength returned.
+ All through the night we scoured between the hills:
+ The moon went down behind us, and the stars
+ Dropped after her; but long before I saw
+ A planet blazing straight against our eyes,
+ The road had softened, and the shadowy hills
+ Had flattened out, and I could hear the hiss
+ Of sand spurned backward by the flying mares.--
+ Glory to God! I was at home again!
+ The sun rose on us; far and near I saw
+ The level Desert; sky met sand all round.
+ We paused at midday by a palm-crowned well,
+ And ate and slumbered. Somewhat, too, was said:
+ The words have slipped my memory. That same eve
+ We rode sedately through a Hamoum camp,--
+ I, Adeb, prince amongst them, and my bride.
+ And ever since amongst them I have ridden,
+ A head and shoulders taller than the best;
+ And ever since my days have been of gold,
+ My nights have been of silver.--God is just!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+ELEUSINIA.[a]
+
+[Footnote a: See Number XXIII., September, 1859.]
+
+
+THE SAVIOURS OF GREECE.
+
+Life, in its central idea, is an entire and eternal solitude. Yet each
+individual nature so repeats--and is itself repeated in--every other,
+that there is insured the possibility both of a world-revelation in the
+soul, and of a self-incarnation in the world; so that every man's life,
+like Agrippa's mirror, reflects the universe, and the universe is made
+the embodiment of his life,--is made to beat with a human pulse.
+
+We do all, therefore,--Hindu, Egyptian, Greek, or Saxon,--claim kinship
+both with the earth and the heavens: with the sense of sorrow we kneel
+upon the earth, with the sense of hope we look into the heavens.
+
+The two Presences of the Eleusinia,--the earthly Demeter,[b] the
+embodiment of human sorrow, and the heavenly Dionysus,[c] the
+incarnation of human hope,--these are the two Great Presences of the
+Universe; about whom, as separate centres,--the one of measureless
+wanderings, the other of triumphant rest,--we marshal, both in the
+interpretations of Reason and in the constructions of our Imagination,
+all that is visible or that is invisible,--whatsoever is palpable in
+sense or possible in idea, in the world which is or the world to come.
+Incarnations of the life within us, in its two developments of Sorrow
+and Hope,--they are also the centres through which this life develops
+itself in the world: it is through them that all things have their
+genesis from the human heart, and through them, therefore, that all
+things are unveiled to us.
+
+[Footnote b: Demeter is [Greek Gae-mhaetaer], Mother Earth.]
+
+[Footnote c: The same as Iacchus and the Latin Bacchus.]
+
+But these Two Presences have their highest interest and significance as
+_foci_ of the religious development of the race: and inasmuch as all
+growth is ultimately a religious one, it is in this phase that their
+organic connections with life are widest and most profound. As such they
+appear in the Eleusinia; and in all mythology they furnish the only
+possible key for the interpretation of its mystic symbolism, its
+hieroglyphic records, and its ill-defined traditions.
+
+Accordingly we find that all mythology naturally and inevitably
+flows about these centres into two distinct developments, which are
+indicated,--
+
+1. In Nature; inasmuch as they are first made manifest through symbols
+which point to the two great forces, the _active_ and the _passive_,
+which are concerned in all natural processes (_sol et terra subjacens
+soli_); and,
+
+2. In the primitive belief among all nations, that men are the offspring
+of the earth and the heavens,--and in the worship equally prevalent of
+the sun, the personal Presence of the heavens, as Saviour Lord, and of
+the earth as sorrowing Lady and Mother.
+
+Why the earth, in this primitive symbolism and worship, was represented
+as the Sorrowing One, and the sun as Saviour, is evident at a glance.
+It was the bosom of the earth which was shaken with storm and rent with
+earthquake. She was the Mother, and hers was the travail of all birth;
+in sorrow she forever gathered to herself her Fate-conquered children;
+her sorrowful countenance she veiled in thick mists, and, year after
+year, shrouded herself in wintry desolation: while he was the Eternal
+Father, the Revealer of all things, he drove away the darkness, and in
+his presence the mist became an invisible exhalation; and, as out of
+darkness and death, he called into birth the flowers and the numberless
+forests,--even as he himself was every morning born anew out of
+darkness,--so he called the children of the earth to a glorious rising
+in his light. Everything of the earth was inert, weighing heavily upon
+the sense and the heart, only waiting its transfiguration and exaltation
+through his power, until it should rise into the heavens; which was the
+type of his translation to himself of his grief-oppressed children.
+
+Under these symbols our Lord and Lady have been worshipped by an
+overwhelming majority of the human race. They swayed the ancient world,
+from the Indians by the Ganges, and the Tartar tribes, to the Britons
+and Laplanders of Northwestern Europe,--having their representatives in
+every system of faith,--in the Hindu _Isi and Isana_, the Egyptian _Isis
+and Osiris_, the Assyrian _Venus and Adonis_, the _Demeter and Dionysus_
+of Greece, the Roman _Ceres and Bacchus_, and the _Disa and Frey_ of
+Scandinavia,--in connection with most, if not all, of whom there existed
+festivals corresponding, in respect of their meaning and use, with the
+Grecian Eleusinia.
+
+Moreover, the various divinities of any one mythology--for example, the
+Greek--were at first only representatives of partial attributes or
+incidental functions of these Two Presences. Thus, Jove was the power of
+the heavens, which, of course, centred in the sun; Apollo is admitted
+to have been only another name for the sun; Æsculapius represents his
+healing virtues; Hercules his saving strength; and Prometheus, who gave
+fire to men, as Vulcan, the god of fire, was probably connected with
+Eastern fire-worship, and so in the end with the worship of the sun.
+Some of the goddesses come under the same category,--such as Juno,
+sister and wife of Jove, who shared with him his aerial dynasty; as also
+Diana, who was only the reflection of Apollo,[d] as the moon of the sun,
+carrying his power on into the night, and exercising among women the
+functions which he exercised among men. The representatives of our Lady,
+on the other hand, are such as the ancient Rhea,--Latona, with her dark
+and starry veil,--Tethys, the world-nurse,--and the Artemis of the East,
+or Syrian Mother; to say nothing of Oreads, Dryads, and Nereids, that
+without number peopled the mountains, the forests, and the sea.
+
+[Footnote d: This connection of Diana with Apollo has led some to the
+hasty inference, that the sun and moon--not the sun and earth--were the
+primitive centres of mythological symbolism. But it is plain that the
+sun and moon, as _active _forces referable to a single centre, stood
+over against the earth as _passive._]
+
+The confusion of ancient mythology did not so much regard its subjective
+elements as its external development, and even here is easily accounted
+for by the mingling of tribes and nations, hitherto isolated in their
+growth,--but who, as they came together, in their mutual recognition of
+a common faith under different names and rites, must inevitably have
+introduced disorder into the external symbolism. But even out of this
+confusion we shall find the whole Pantheon organized about two
+central shrines,--those of the _Mater Dolorosa_ and the _Dominus
+Salvator_,--which are represented also in Christendom, though detached
+from natural symbols, in the connection of Christianity with the worship
+of the Virgin.
+
+The Eleusinia, collecting together, as it did, all the prominent
+elements of mythology, furnishes, in its dramatic evolution through
+Demeter and Dionysus, the highest and most complete representation of
+ancient faith in both of its developments. In a former paper, we have
+endeavored to give this drama its deepest interpretation by pointing to
+the human heart as the central source of all its movements. We shall now
+ask our readers to follow us out into these movements themselves,--that,
+as before we saw how the world is centred in each human soul, we may now
+see how each soul develops itself in the world; for thither it is that
+the ever-widening cycles of the Eleusinian epos will inevitably lead us.
+
+And first as an epos of sorrow: though centring in the earthly Demeter,
+yet its movement does not limit itself by the remembrance of _her_ nine
+days' search; but, in the torch-light procession of the fifth night,
+widens indefinitely and mysteriously in the darkness, until it has
+inclosed all hearts within the circuit of its tumultuous flight. Thus,
+by some secret sympathy with her movements, are gathered together
+about the central Achtheia all the _Matres Dolorosoe,_--our Ladies of
+Sorrow;--for, like her, they were all wanderers.
+
+They were so by necessity. All unrest involves loss, and thus leads to
+search. It matters not if the search be unsuccessful; though the gadfly
+sting as sharply the next moment as it did the last, still so must
+continue her wanderings. Therefore that Jew, whose mythic fate it is to
+wait forever upon the earth, the victim of an everlasting sorrow, is
+also an everlasting wanderer. All suffering necessitates movement,--and
+when the suffering is intense, the movement passes over into flight.
+
+Therefore it is that the epos of suffering requires not merely time for
+its accomplishment, but also space. Ulysses, the "much-suffering," is
+also the "much-wandering."
+
+Thus our Lady in the Eleusinian procession of search represents the
+restless search of all her children.
+
+Migrations and colonizations, ancient or modern,--what were they but
+flights from some phase of suffering,--name it as we may,--poverty,
+oppression, or slavery? It was the same suffering Io who brought
+civilization to the banks of the Nile.
+
+Thus, from the very beginnings of history or human tradition, out of
+the severities of Scythian deserts there has been an endless series of
+flights,--nomadic invasions of tribes impelled by no merely barbarian
+impulse, but by some deep sense of suffering, flying from their Northern
+wastes to the happy gardens of the South. In no other way can you
+account for these movements. If you attribute them to ferocity, what
+was it that engendered and nourished _that_? Call them the results of
+a Divine Providence, seeking by a fresher current of life to revive
+systems of civilization which through long ages of luxury have come to
+frailty,--still it was through this severity of discipline alone that
+Providence accomplished its end. Besides, these nomads were fully
+conscious of their bitter lot; and those who fled not in space fled at
+least in their dreams,--waiting for death at last to introduce them to
+inexhaustible hunting-grounds in their happy Elysium.
+
+The very mention of Rome suggests the same continually repeated series
+of antecedent tragedy and consequent wandering,--pointing backward to
+the fabled siege of Troy and the flight of Aeneas,--"_profugus_"
+from Asia to Italy,--and forward to the quick-coming footsteps of the
+Northern _profugi_, who were eager, even this side the grave, to enter
+the Valhalla of their dreams.
+
+It is said that the Phoenician cities sent out colonies from a desire of
+gain, and because they were crowded at home. It is said, too, that,
+in search of gold, thousands upon thousands went to El Dorado, to
+California, and Australia; but who does not know that the greater part
+of these thousands left their homes for reasons which, if fully exposed,
+would reveal a tragedy in view of which gold appears a glittering
+mockery?
+
+The great movement of the race westward is but an extension of this
+epic flight. Thus, the Pilgrim Fathers of New England,--the grandest
+_profugi_ of all time,--or even the bold adventurers of Spain, would
+have been moved only by intense suffering, in some form, to exchange
+their homes for a wilderness.
+
+The world is full of these wanderings, under various pretences of gain,
+adventure, or curiosity, hiding the real impulse of flight. So with the
+strong-flowing current in the streets of a great city; for how else
+shall we interpret this intricate net-work of human feature and
+movement,--this flux of life toward some troubled centre, and then its
+reflux toward some uncertain and undefined circumference?
+
+And as Nature is the mirror of human life, so at the source of those
+vast movements by which she buries in oblivion her own works and the
+works of man there is hidden the type of human suffering, both for the
+race and the individual. And hence it is, that, over against the eternal
+solitude within us, there ever waits without us a second solitude, into
+which, sooner or later, we pass with restless flight,--a solitude
+vast, shadowy, and unfamiliar in its outline, but inevitable in its
+reality,--haunting, bewildering, overshadowing us!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Who is it that shall interpret this intricate evolution of human
+footsteps, in its meaning of sorrow?--who is it that shall give us
+rest?" Such is the half-conscious prayer of all these fugitives,--of
+our Lady and all her children. This it is which gives meaning to the
+torch-light procession on the fifth night of the Festival; but to-morrow
+it shall find an answer in the Saviour Dionysus, who shall change the
+flight of search into the pomp of triumph.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+But let us pause a moment. It is Palm Sunday! We are not, indeed, in
+Syria, the land of palms. Yet, even here,--lost in some far-reaching
+avenue of pines, where one could hardly walk upon a summer Sunday
+without such sense of joy as would move him to tears,--even here all the
+movements of the earth and the heavens hint of most jubilant triumph.
+Thus, the green grass rises above the dead grass at our feet; the
+leaf-buds new-born upon the tree, like lotos-buds springing up from
+Ethiopian marble, give token of resurrection; the trees themselves tower
+heavenward; and in victorious ascension the clouds unite in the vast
+procession, dissolving in exhalation at the "gates of the sun"; while
+from unnumbered choirs arise songs of exultant victory from the hearts
+of men to the throne of God!
+
+But whither, in divine remembrance,--whither is it that upon this Sunday
+of all Sundays the thoughts of Christendom point? Back through eighteen
+hundred years to the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, followed
+by the children crying, "Hosanna in the highest heavens!" Of this it is
+that the processions of Nature, in the resurrections of birth and the
+aërial ascension of clouds,--of this that the upward processions of our
+thoughts are commemorative!
+
+Thus was the sixth day of the Eleusinia,--when the ivy-crowned Dionysus
+was borne in triumph through the mystic entrance of Eleusis, and from
+the Eleusinian plains, as from our choirs to-day, ascended the jubilant
+Hosannas of the countless multitude;--this was the Palm Sunday of
+Greece.
+
+Close upon the chariot-wheels of the Saviour Dionysus followed, in
+the faith of Greece, Aesculapius and Hercules: the former the Divine
+Physician, whose very name was healing, and who had power over death,
+as the child of the Sun; and the latter, who by his saving strength
+delivered the earth from its Augean impurities, and, arrayed in
+celestial panoply, subdued the monsters of the earth, and at last,
+descending to Hades, slew the three-headed Cerberus and took away from
+men much of the fear of death. Such was the train of the Eleusinian
+Dionysus. If Demeter was the wanderer, he was the conqueror and centre
+of all triumph.
+
+And this reminds us of his Indian conquest. What did it mean? Admit that
+it may have been only the fabulous march in triumph of some forgotten
+king of mortal birth to the farthest limits of the East. Still the fact
+of its association with Dionysus stands as evidence of the connection of
+human faith with human victory. Let it be that Dionysus himself was only
+the apotheosis of victorious humanity. In strict logic this is more than
+probable. Yet why apotheosize conquerors at all? Why exalt all heroes to
+the rank of gods?
+
+The reason is, that men are unwilling to draw a limited meaning from any
+human act. How could they, then, connecting, as they did, all victory
+with hope,--how could they fall short of the most exalted hope, of the
+most excellent victory; especially in instances like the one now under
+our notice, where the material circumstances of the conquest as well
+as of the conqueror's life have passed out of remembrance; when for
+generations men have dwelt upon the dim tradition in their thoughts, and
+it has had time to grow into its fullest significance,--even finding
+an elaborate expression in sacred writings, in symbolic ritual, and
+monumental entablature? Osiris, who subjected men to his reign of peace,
+was also held to be the Preserver of their souls. Even Caesar, had he
+lived two thousand years before, might have been worshipped as Saviour.
+All extended power, measured by duration in time or vast areas of space,
+becomes an incarnate Presence in the world, which awes to the dust
+all who resist it, and exalts with its own glory all who trust in it.
+Achtheia mourns all failures; and here it is that the human touches the
+earth. But they who conquer, these are our Saviours; they shall follow
+in the train of Dionysus; they shall lift us to the heavens, and
+sanctify in our remembrance the Sunday of Palms!
+
+But Dionysus not only looks back with triumphant remembrance to ancient
+conquest, but has his victories in the present, also, and in the great
+Hereafter. For triumph was connected with all Dionysiac symbols, hints
+of which are preserved to us in representations found upon ancient
+vases: such, for instance, as the figure of Victory surmounting the
+heads of the ivy-crowned Bacchantes in their mystic orgies; or the
+winged serpents which bear the chariot of the victor-god,--as if in
+this connection even the reptiles, whose very name (_serpentes_) is
+a synonyme for what creeps, are to be made the ministrants of his
+conquering flight. The tombs of the ancients from Egypt to Etruria are
+full of these symbols. Many of them have become dim as to their meaning
+by oblivious time; but enough is evident to indicate the prominence
+of hope in ancient faith. This appears in the very multiplicity of
+Dionysiac symbols as compared with any other class. Thus, out of
+sixty-six vases at Polignano, all but one or two were found to be
+Dionysiac in their symbolism. And this instance stands for many others.
+The _character_ of the scenes represented indicates the same prominence
+of hope, sometimes as connected with the relations of life,--as, for
+example, the representation, found upon a sepulchral cone, of a husband
+and wife uniting with each other in prayer to the Sun. Frequent
+inscriptions--such as those in which the deceased is carefully committed
+to Osiris, the Egyptian Dionysus--point in the same direction; as
+also the genii who presided over the embalmed dead, a belief in whose
+existence surely indicated a hopeful trust in some divine care which
+would not leave them even in the grave. Statues of Osiris are found
+among the ruins of palaces and temples; but it was in the monuments
+associated with death that they dwelt most upon his name and expressed
+their faith in most frequent incarnation and inscription.
+
+The epic movement of Eleusinian triumph was in its range as unlimited
+as the movement of sorrow. Each found expression in sculptured
+monument,--the one hinting of flight into darkness, and the other of
+resurrection into light; each in its cycle inclosed the world; each
+widened into the invisible; as the wail of Achtheia reached the heart of
+Hades, so the paean of Dionysus was lost in the heavens.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+But in what manner did this Dionysus make his _avatar_ in the world? For
+he must needs have first touched the earth as human child, ere he could
+be worshipped as Divine Saviour. Latona must leave the heavens and come
+to Delos ere she can give birth to Apollo; for, in order to slay the
+serpent, the child must himself be earth-born,--indeed, according to one
+representation, he slew the Python out of his mother's arms. Neither the
+serpent of Genesis nor the dragon of Revelation can be conquered save
+by the seed of the woman. From this necessity of his earthly birth,
+the connection of the Saviour-Child with the _Mater Dolorosa_ becomes
+universal,--finding its counterpart in the Assyrian Venus with babe in
+arm, in Isis suckling the child Horus, and even in the Scandinavian Disa
+at Upsal accompanied by an infant. It is from swaddling-clothes, as the
+nursling of our Lady, and out of the sorrowful discipline of earth, that
+the child grows to be the Saviour, both for our Lady and for all her
+children.
+
+Hence, according to the tradition, Dionysus was born of Semele of the
+royal house at Thebes; and Jove was his father. A little before his time
+of birth,--so the story goes,--Jove visited Semele, at her own rash
+request, in all the majesty of his presence, with thunderings and
+lightnings, so that the bower of the virgin mother was laid in ruins,
+and she herself, unable to stand before the revealed god, was consumed
+as by fire. But Jove out of her ashes perfected the birth of his son;
+whence he was called the Child of Fire, ([Greek: puripais],)--which
+epithet, as well as this part of the fable, probably points to his
+connection with the Oriental symbolism of fire in the worship of the
+Sun.
+
+And it is worth while, in connection with this, to notice the gradations
+by which in the ancient mind everything ascended from the gross material
+to a refined spirituality. As in Nature there was forever going on a
+subtilizing process, so that
+
+ "from the root
+ Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves
+ More aëry, last the bright consummate flower
+ Spirits odorous breathes,"--
+
+and as, in their philosophy, from the earth, as the principle of Nature,
+they ascended through the more subtile elements of water, air, and fire,
+to a spiritual conception of the universe; so, as regards their
+faith, its highest incarnation was through the symbolism of fire, as
+representative of that central Power under whose influence all things
+arose through endless grades of exaltation to Himself,--so that the
+earthly rose into the heavenly, and all that was human became divine.
+
+The enthusiasm of victory and exaltation in the worship of Dionysus
+tended of course to connect with him whatsoever was joyous and jubilant
+in life. He was the god of all joy. Hence the fable which makes him the
+author and giver of wine to men. Wherever he goes, he is surrounded by
+the clustering vine and ivy, hinting of his summer glory and of his
+kingly crown. Thus, the line of his conquests leads through the richest
+fields of Southern Asia,--through the incense-breathing Arabia, across
+the Euphrates and the Tigris, and through the flowery vales of Cashmere
+to the Indian garden of the world: and as from sea to sea he establishes
+his reign by bloodless victories, he is attended by Fauns and Satyrs and
+the jovial Pan; wine and honey are his gifts; and all the earth is glad
+in his gracious presence. Hence he was ever associated with Oriental
+luxuriance, and was worshipped even among the Greeks with a large
+infusion of Oriental extravagance, though tempered by the more subdued
+mood of the West.
+
+But that depth of Grecian genius, which made it possible for Greece
+alone of all ancient nations to develop tragedy to anything like
+perfection, insured also even in the most impassioned life the most
+profound solemnity. Into the praises of Apollo, joyous as they
+were,--where, to the exultant anthem was joined the evolution of the
+dance beneath the vaulted sky, as if in his very presence,--for the sun
+was his shechinah,--there enters an element of solemnity, which, in
+certain connections, is almost overwhelming: as, for instance, in the
+first book of the "Iliad,"--where, after the pestilence which has sent
+up an endless series of funeral pyres,--after the strife of heroes
+and the return of Chryseïs to her father, the priest of the angry
+Apollo,--after the feast and the libation from the wine-crowned cups,
+there follow the _apotropoea_, and the Grecian youths unite in the
+song and the dance, which last, both the joyous paean and the tread of
+exultant feet, until the setting sun. I know of nothing which to
+an equal degree suggests this element of solemnity, that is almost
+awe-inspiring from its depth, short of the jubilant procession of
+saints, in the Apocalypse, with palms in their hands.
+
+This element is also evident in the worship of Dionysus,--so that the
+inspiration of joy must not be taken for the frenzy of intoxication,
+though the symbol of the vine has often led to just this
+misapprehension. Besides, Dionysus must not be too closely identified
+with the Bacchanalian orgies, which were only a perversion of rites
+which retained their original purity in the Eleusinia: and this latter
+institution, it must be remembered, was from the first under the control
+of the state,--and that state at the time the most refined on the face
+of the earth.
+
+Surely, it is not more difficult to give a pure and spiritual
+significance to a vintage-festival or to the symbolic wine-cup of
+Dionysus, than in the rhapsodies of a Persian or Hindu poet to symbolize
+the attraction between the Divine Goodness and the human soul by the
+loves of Laili and Majnum, or of Crishna and Radha,--to say nothing of
+the exalted symbolism attached to the love of Solomon for his Egyptian
+princess, and sanctioned by the most delicate taste.
+
+Indeed, is it not true that whatsoever is most sensuous in connection
+with human joy, and at the same time pure, is the very flower of life,
+and therefore the most consummate revelation of holiness? Nothing in
+Nature is so intensely solemn as her summer, in its infinite fulness of
+growth and the unmeasured altitude of its heavens. And within the range
+of human associations which shall we select as revealing the most
+profound solemnity? Surely not the sight of the funeral train, nor of
+the urn crowned with cypress,--of nothing which is associated with death
+or weakness in any shape;--but the sight of gayest festivals, or the
+paraphernalia of palace-halls,--the vision of some youthful maiden of
+transcendent beauty crowned with an orange-wreath, within hearing of
+marriage-bells and the whisperings of holy love,--or the aspirations of
+the dance and the endless breathings of triumphant music. These are they
+which come up most prominently in remembrance,--even as the whole race,
+in its remembrances, instinctively looks back to the Orient,--to some
+Homeric island of the morning, where are the palaces, the choral dances,
+and the risings of the sun.[e] And as Memory has the power to purify the
+past of all material grossness, Faith has the same power as regards the
+present Hence, the closest connection of religious faith with the
+most joyous festivals, with a finely moulded Venus or Apollo, with an
+Ephesian temple or a splendid cathedral, or the sweetest symphonies of
+music, does not mar, but reveals its natural beauty and strength.
+
+[Footnote e: _Odyssey_, xii., 4.]
+
+But most certainly the Greeks gave a profound spiritual meaning to the
+Eleusinia, as also to the mystic connection of Demeter with Dionysus.
+She gave them bread: but they never forgot that she gave them the bread
+of life. "She gave us," says the ancient Isocrates, "two gifts that are
+the most excellent: fruits, that we might not live like beasts; and that
+initiation, those who have part in which have sweeter hope,--both as
+regards the close of life, and for all eternity." So Dionysus gave them
+wine, not only to lighten the cares of life, but as a token, moreover,
+of efficient deliverance from the fear of death, and of the higher joy
+which he would give them in some happier world. And thus it is, that,
+from the earliest times and in all the world, bread and wine have been
+symbols of sacramental significance.
+
+Human life so elevates all things with its exaltation and clothes them
+with its glory, that nothing vain, nothing trifling, can be found within
+its range. He who opposes himself to a single fact thus of necessity
+opposes himself to the whole onward and upward current, and must fall.
+We have heard of Thor, who with his magic mallet and his two celestial
+comrades went to Jötunheim in quest of adventures: and we remember the
+goblet which he could not exhaust because of its mysterious connection
+with the inexhaustible Sea; the race with Hugi, which in the end proved
+to be a race with Thought; and the wrestle with the old nurse Elli, who
+was no other than Time herself, and therefore irresistible. So do we all
+get us mallets ingeniously forged by the dark elves;--we try a race with
+human thought, and look vainly to come out ahead; we laugh at things
+because they are old, but with which we struggle to no purpose; and the
+cup which we confidently put to our lips has no bottom;--in fact, the
+great world of Jötunheim has grown for so long a time and so widely that
+it is quite too much for us,--and its tall people, though we come down
+upon them, like Thor and his companions, from celestial heights, are too
+stout for our mallet.
+
+Nothing human is so insignificant, but that, if you will give it time
+and room, it will become irresistible. The plays of men become their
+dramas; their holidays change to holy days. The representations, through
+which, under various names, they have repeated to themselves the glory
+and the tragedy of their life,--old festivals once celebrated in Egypt
+far back beyond the dimmest myths of human remembrance,--the mystic
+drama of the Eleusinia, which we have been considering in its
+overwhelming sorrow developed in hurried flight, and its lofty
+hope through triumphal pomp and the significant symbolism of
+resurrection,--the epos and the epic rhapsodies,--the circus and
+the amphitheatre,--and even the impetuous song and dance of painted
+savages,--all these, which at first we may pass by with a glance, have
+for our deeper search a meaning which we can never wholly exhaust. Let
+it be that they have grown from feeble beginnings, they have grown to
+gigantic dimensions; and not their infantile proportions, but their
+fullest growth is to be taken as the measure of their strength,--if,
+indeed, it be not wholly immeasurable.
+
+Upon some day, seemingly by chance, but really having its antecedent
+in the remotest antiquity, a company of men participate in some simple
+act,--of sacrifice, it may be, or of amusement. Now that act will be
+reiterated.
+
+ "Quod semel dictum est stabilisque rerum
+ Terminus servet."
+
+The subtile law of repetition, as regards the human will, is as sure
+in Determination as it is in Consciousness. Habit is as inevitable as
+Memory; and as nothing can be forgotten, but, when once known, is
+known forever,--so nothing is done but will be done again. Lethe and
+Annihilation are only myths upon the earth, which men, though suspicious
+of their eternal falsehood, name to themselves in moments of despair
+and fearful apprehension. The poppy has only a fabled virtue; but, like
+Persephone, we have all tasted of the pomegranate, and must ever to
+Hades and back again; for while death and oblivion only seem to be,
+remembrances and resurrections there must be, and without end. Therefore
+this before-mentioned act of sacrifice or amusement will be reiterated
+at given intervals; about it, as a centre, will be gathered all the
+associations of intense interest in human life; and the names connected
+with its origin--once human names upon the earth--will pass upon the
+stars, so that the _nomina_ shall have changed to _numina_, and be
+taken upon the lips with religious awe. So it was with these old
+festivals,--so with all the representations of human life in stone or
+upon the canvas, in the fairy-tale, the romance, and the poem; at every
+successive repetition, at every fresh resurrection, is evolved by human
+faith and sympathy a deeper significance, until they become the
+centres of national thought and feeling, and men believe in them as in
+revelations from heaven; and even the oracles themselves, in respect of
+their inherent meaning, as also of their origin and authority, rise
+by the same ascending series of repeated birth,--like that at Delphi,
+which, at first attributed to the Earth, then to Themis, daughter of
+Earth and Heaven, was at last connected with the Sun and constituted one
+of the richest gems in Apollo's diadem of light.
+
+In the end we shall find that the whole world organizes about its centre
+of Faith. Thus, under three different religious systems, Jerusalem,
+Delphi, and Mecca were held to be each in its turn the _omphalos_ or
+navel of the world. It follows inevitably that the _main_ movement of
+the world must always be joyous and hopeful. By reason of this joy it is
+that every religious system has its feast; and the sixth day--the day
+of Iacchus--is the great day of the festival. The inscription which
+rises above every other is "To the Saviour Gods."
+
+We must look at history as a succession of triumphs from the beginning;
+and each trophy that is erected outdoes in its magnificence all that
+were ever erected before it. Nothing has suffered defeat, except as it
+has run counter to the main movement of conquest. No system of faith,
+therefore, can by any possibility pass away. Involved it may be in some
+fuller system; its _material_ bases may be modified; its central source
+become more central in the human heart, and so stronger in the world and
+more immediate in its connection with the eternal; but the life itself
+of the system must live forever and grow forever.
+
+Still it is true that in the widest growth there is the largest
+liability to weakness. "Thus it is," says Fouqué, "with poor, though
+richly endowed man. All lies within his power so long as action is at
+rest within him; nothing is in his power the moment action has displayed
+itself, even by the lifting-up of a finger on the immeasurable world."
+In the very extent of the empire of an Alexander, a Cæsar, or a
+Tamerlane, rests the possibility of its rapid dissolution. At the
+giddiest altitude of triumph it is that the brain grows dizziest
+and there is revealed the deepest chasm of possible defeat; and the
+conqueror,
+
+ "Having his ear full of his airy fame,"
+
+is just then most likely to fall like Herod from his aërial pomp to the
+very dust. This consciousness, revealing at the highest moment of joy
+its utmost frailty, led the ancients to suspect the presence of some Ate
+or Nemesis in all human triumphs. We all remember the king who threw his
+signet-ring into the sea, that he might in his too happy fortunes avert
+this suspected presence; we remember, too, the apprehension of the
+Chorus in the "Seven against Thebes," looking forward from the noontide
+prosperity of the Theban king to some coming catastrophe.
+
+But it is not without us that this Nemesis waits; she is but another
+name for the fearful possibility which lurks in every human will, of
+treachery to itself. And as solemnity rises to its acme in the most
+sensuous manifestation of the glory of life,--so in all that most
+fascinates and bewilders, at the very crisis of victorious exaltation,
+at the very height of joyous sensibility, does this mysterious power
+of temptation reveal her subtlest treachery; and sometimes in a single
+moment does she change the golden-filleted Horæ, that are our ministers,
+into frightful furies, which drive us back again from triumph into
+flight.
+
+What was it, then, which saved the Eleusinia from this defeat,--which
+kept the movement of the Dionysiac procession from the ruin inevitably
+consequent upon all intemperate joy? It was the presence of our Lady,
+the sorrowing Achtheia, who was the inseparable companion of the joyous
+conqueror,--who subdued the joy of victory, and preserved the strength
+and holy purity of the great Festival. Demeter was thus necessary to
+Dionysus,--as Dionysus to Demeter; and if in remembrance of him the
+sepulchral walls were covered with scenes associated with festivity,--in
+remembrance of her there must needs be a skeleton at every feast.
+
+How inseparably connected in human thought is sorrow with all permanent
+hope is indicated in the penances which men have imposed upon
+themselves, from the earliest Gymnosophists of India, and the Stylitæ of
+Syria, down to the monastic orders of the Romish Church in later times.
+This is the meaning of the old Indian fable which made two of the
+_Rishis_ or penitents to have risen by the discipline of sorrow from
+some low caste,--it may be, from very Pariahs,--first to the rank of
+Brahmins, and at last to the stars. The first initiation in which we
+veil our eyes, losing all, is essential to our fresher birth, by
+which in the second initiation all things are unveiled to us as our
+inheritance: indeed, it is only through that which veils that anything
+is ever revealed or possessed.
+
+Through the same gate we pass both to glory and to tragic suffering,
+each of which heightens and measures the other; and it is only so that
+we can understand the function of sorrow in the Providence of God, or
+interpret the sudden calamities which sometimes overwhelm human hopes at
+their highest aspiration,--which from the most serene and cloudless sky
+evoke storms which leave not even a wreck from their vast ruin.
+
+Nor merely is sorrow efficient in those who hope, but in even a higher
+sense does it attach to the character of Saviour. Apollo is, therefore,
+fabled to have been an exile from heaven and a servant of Admetus;
+indeed, Danaüs, in "The Suppliants" of Æschylus, appeals to Apollo for
+protection on this very plea, addressing him as "the Holy One, and
+an exiled God from heaven." Thus Hercules was compelled to serve
+Eurystheus; and his twelve labors were typed in the twelve signs of the
+zodiac. Æsculapius and Prometheus both suffered excruciating tortures
+and death for the good of men. And Dionysus--himself the centre of all
+joy--was persecuted by the Queen of Heaven and compelled to wander in
+the world. Thus he wandered through Egypt, finding no abiding-place, and
+finally, as the story runs, came to the Phrygian Cybele, that he might
+know in their deepest meaning--even by the initiation of sorrow--the
+mysteries of the Great Mother. And, very significantly, it is from this
+same initiation that _His_ wanderings have their end and his world-wide
+conquest its beginning; as if only thus could be realized the
+possibility both of triumph for himself and of hope for his followers.
+For these wanderers can find rest only in a _suffering_ Saviour, by the
+vision of whose deeper Passion they lose their sense of grief,--as Io on
+Caucasus in sight of the transfixed Prometheus, and the Madonna at the
+Cross.
+
+It is worthy of more attention than we can give it here, yet we cannot
+pass over in silence the fact, so important in this relation, that
+Grecian Tragedy, in all its wonderful development under the three great
+masters, was directly associated, and in its ruder beginnings completely
+identified, with the worship of Dionysus. And this confirms our previous
+hint, that the same element which made tragedy possible for Greece must
+also be sought for in the development of its faith. There are those who
+decry Grecian faith,--at the same time that they laud the Grecian drama
+to the skies: but to the Greeks themselves, who certainly knew more than
+we do as regards either, the drama was only an outgrowth of their faith,
+and derived thence its highest significance. Thus the mystic symbolism
+of the dramatic Choruses, taken out of its religious connections,
+becomes an insoluble enigma; and naturally enough; for its first use
+was in religious worship,--though afterwards it became associated with
+traditionary and historic events. Besides, it was supposed that the
+tragedians wrote under a divine inspiration; and the subjects and
+representations which they embodied were for the most part susceptible
+of a deep spiritual interpretation. Indeed, upon a careful examination,
+we shall find that very many of the dramas directly suggest the two
+Eleusinian movements, representing first the flight of suppliants--as
+of the Heraclidae, the daughters of Danaüs, and of Oedipus and
+Antigone--from persecution to the shrine of some Saviour Deity,--and
+finally a deliverance effected through sacrifice or divine
+interposition. Examples of this are so numerous that we have no space
+for a minute consideration.
+
+But certainly it is plain that the Eleusinia, as being more central,
+more purely spiritual, must in the thought of Greece have risen high
+above the drama. The very dress in which the _mystae_ were initiated was
+preserved as most sacred or deposited in the temple. Or if we insist
+upon measuring their appreciation of the Festival by the more palpable
+standard of numbers,--the temple at Eleusis, by the account of Strabo,
+was capable of holding even in its mystic cell more persons than the
+theatre. To be sure, the celebration was only once in five years,--but
+it was all the more sacred from this very infrequency. Nothing in all
+Greece--and that is saying very much--could compare with it in its depth
+of divine mystery. If anything could, it would have been the drama; but
+no wailings were ever heard from beneath the masks of the stage like the
+wailings of Achtheia,--no jubilant song of the Chorus ever rose like the
+paean of Dionysiac triumph.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Thus was the name of Dionysus connected with the palace and the temple,
+with the sepulchral court of death and the dramatic representations of
+life,--and everywhere associated with our Lady.
+
+Sometimes, indeed, she seems to overshadow and hide him from our vision.
+Thus was it when the Eumenides in their final triumph swept the stage,
+and victory seemed all in the hands of invisible Powers, with no
+human participant: even as throughout the Homeric epos there runs an
+undercurrent of unutterable sadness; because, while to the Gods there
+ever remains a sure seat upon Olympus, unshaken by the winds, untouched
+by rain or snow, crowned with a cloudless radiance,--yet upon man
+come vanity, sorrow, and strife; like the leaves of the forest he
+flourisheth, and then passeth away to the "weak heads of the dead,"
+([Greek: nekuon amenaena karaena],) conquered by purple Death and strong
+Fate.
+
+To the eye of sense, and in the circumscribed movements of this world,
+the desolation seems complete and the defeat final. But the snows of
+winter are necessary to the blossoms of spring,--the waste of death to
+the resurrection of life; and from the vastest of all desolations does
+our Lady lead her children in the loftiest of all flights,--even from
+all sorrow and solitude,--from the wastes of earth and the desolation of
+Æons, to ineffable joy in her Saviour Lord.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+VICTOR AND JACQUELINE.
+
+I.
+
+
+Jacqueline Gabrie and Elsie Méril could not occupy one room, and remain,
+either of them, indifferent to so much as might be manifested of the
+other's inmost life. They could not emigrate together, peasants from
+Domrémy,--Jacqueline so strong, Elsie so fair,--could not labor in the
+same harvest-fields, children of old neighbors, without each being
+concerned in the welfare and affected by the circumstances of the other.
+
+It was near ten o'clock, one evening, when Elsie Méril ran up the
+common stairway, and entered the room in the fourth story where she and
+Jacqueline lodged.
+
+Victor Le Roy, student from Picardy, occupied the room next theirs, and
+was startled from his slumber by the voices of the girls. Elsie was
+fresh from the theatre, from the first play she had ever witnessed; she
+came home excited and delighted, ready to repeat and recite, as long as
+Jacqueline would listen.
+
+And here was Jacqueline.
+
+Early in the evening Elsie had sought her friend with a good deal of
+anxiety. A fellow-lodger and field-laborer had invited her to see the
+play,--and Jacqueline was far down the street, nursing old Antonine
+Duprè. To seek her, thus occupied, on such an errand, Elsie had the good
+taste, and the selfishness, to refrain from doing.
+
+Therefore, after a little deliberation, she had gone to the theatre, and
+there forgot her hard day-labor in the wonders of the stage,--forgot
+Jacqueline, and Antonine, and every care and duty. It was hard for her,
+when all was ended, to come back to compunction and explanation, yet to
+this she had come back.
+
+Neither of the girls was thinking of the student, their neighbor; but
+he was not only wakened by their voices, he amused himself by comparing
+them and their utterances with his preconceived notions of the girls.
+They might not have recognized him in the street, though they had often
+passed him on the stairs; but he certainly could have distinguished the
+pretty face of Elsie, or the strange face of Jacqueline, wherever he
+might meet them.
+
+Elsie ran on with her story, not careful to inquire into the mood of
+Jacqueline,--suspicious of that mood, no doubt,--but at last, made
+breathless by her haste and agitation, she paused, looked anxiously at
+Jacqueline, and finally said,--
+
+"You think I ought not to have gone?"
+
+"Oh, no,--it gave you pleasure."
+
+A pause followed. It was broken at length by Elsie, exclaiming, in a
+voice changed from its former speaking,--
+
+"Jacqueline Gabrie, you are homesick! horribly homesick, Jacqueline!"
+
+"You do not ask for Antonine: yet you know I went to spend the day with
+her," said Jacqueline, very gravely.
+
+"How is Antonine Duprè?" asked Elsie.
+
+"She is dead. I have told you a good many times that she must die. Now,
+she is dead."
+
+"Dead?" repeated Elsie.
+
+"You care as much as if a candle had gone out," said Jacqueline.
+
+"She was as much to me as I to her," was the quick answer. "She never
+liked me. She did not like my mother before me. When you told her my
+name, the day we saw her first, I knew what she thought. So let that go.
+If I could have done her good, though, I would, Jacqueline."
+
+"She has everything she needs,--a great deal more than we have. She is
+very happy, Elsie."
+
+"Am not I? Are not you, in spite of your dreadful look? Your look is
+more terrible than the lady's in the play, just before she killed
+herself. Is that because Antonine is so well off?"
+
+"I wish that I could be where she is," sighed Jacqueline.
+
+"You? You are tired, Jacqueline. You look ill. You will not be fit for
+to-morrow. Come to bed. It is late."
+
+As Jacqueline made no reply to this suggestion, Elsie began to reflect
+upon her words, and to consider wherefore and to whom she had spoken.
+Not quite satisfied with herself could she have been, for at length she
+said in quite another manner,--
+
+"You always said, till now, you wished that you might live a hundred
+years. But it was not because you were afraid to die, you said so,
+Jacqueline."
+
+"I don't know," was the answer,--sadly spoken, "Don't remind me of
+things I have said. I seem to have lost myself."
+
+The voice and the words were effectual, if they were intended as an
+appeal to Elsie. Fain would she now exclude the stage and the play from
+her thoughts,--fain think and feel with Jacqueline, as it had long been
+her habit to do.
+
+Jacqueline, however, was not eager to speak. And Elsie must draw yet
+nearer to her, and make her nearness felt, ere she could hope to receive
+the thought of her friend. By-and-by these words were uttered, solemn,
+slow, and dirge-like:--
+
+"Antonine died just after sundown. I was alone with her. She did not
+think that she would die so soon. I did not. In the morning, John
+Leclerc came in to inquire how she spent the night. He prayed with her.
+And a hymn,--he read a hymn that she seemed to know, for all day she was
+humming it over. I can say some of the lines."
+
+"Say them, Jacqueline," said the softened voice of Elsie.
+
+Slowly, and as one recalls that of which he is uncertain, Jacqueline
+repeated what I copy more entire:--
+
+ "In the midst of life, behold,
+ Death hath girt us round!
+ Whom for help, then, shall we pray?
+ Where shall grace be found?
+ In thee, O Lord, alone!
+ We rue the evil we have done,
+ That thy wrath on us hath drawn.
+ Holy Lord and God!
+ Strong and holy God!
+ Merciful and holy Saviour!
+ Eternal God!
+ Sink us not beneath
+ Bitter pains of endless death!
+ Kyrie, eleison!"
+
+"Then he went away," she continued. "But he did not think it was the
+last time he should speak to Antonine. In the afternoon I thought I saw
+a change, and I wanted to go for somebody. But she said, 'Stay with me.
+I want nothing.' So I sat by her bed. At last she said, 'Come, Lord
+Jesus! come quickly!' and she started up in her bed, as if she saw
+him coming. And as if he were coming nearer, she smiled. That was the
+last,--without a struggle, or as much as a groan."
+
+"No priest there?" asked Elsie.
+
+"No. When I spoke to her about it, she said her priest was Jesus Christ
+the Righteous,--and there was no other,--the High-Priest. She gave me
+her Bible. See how it has been used! 'Search the Scriptures,' she said.
+She told me I was able to learn the truth. 'I loved your mother,' she
+said; 'that is the reason I am so anxious you should know. It is by
+my spirit, said the Lord. Ask for that spirit,' she said. 'He is more
+willing to give than earthly parents are to give good gifts to their
+children.' She said these things, Elsie. If they are true, they must be
+better worth believing than all the riches of the world are worth the
+having."
+
+The interest manifested by the student in this conversation had been on
+the increase since Jacqueline began to speak of Antonine Duprè. It was
+not, at this point of the conversation, waning.
+
+"Your mother would not have agreed with Antonine," said Elsie, as if
+there were weight in the argument;--for such a girl as Jacqueline could
+not speak earnestly in the hearing of a girl like Elsie without result,
+and the result was at this time resistance.
+
+"She believed what she was taught in Domrémy," answered Jacqueline, "She
+believed in Absolution, Extreme Unction, in the need of another priest
+than Jesus Christ,--a representative they call it." She spoke slowly, as
+if interrogating each point of her speech.
+
+"I believe as they believed before us," answered Elsie, coldly.
+
+"We have learned many things since we came to Meaux," answered
+Jacqueline, with a patient gentleness, that indicated the perplexity
+and doubt with which the generous spirit was departing from the old
+dominion. She was indeed departing, with that reverence for the past
+which is not incompatible with the highest hope for the future. "Our
+Joan came from Domrémy, where she must crown the king," she continued.
+"We have much to learn."
+
+"She lost her life," said Elsie, with vehemence.
+
+"Yes, she did lose her life," Jacqueline quietly acquiesced.
+
+"If she had known what must happen, would she have come?"
+
+"Yes, she would have come."
+
+"How late it is!" said Elsie, as if in sleep were certain rest from
+these vexatious thoughts.
+
+Victor Le Roy was by this time lost in his own reflections. These girls
+had supplied an all-sufficient theme; whether they slept or wakened was
+no affair of his. He had somewhat to argue for himself about extreme
+unction, priestly intervention, confession, absolution,--something to
+say to himself about Leclerc, and the departed Antonine.
+
+Late into the night he sat thinking of the marvel of Domrémy and
+of Antonine Duprè, of Picardy and of Meaux, of priests and of the
+High-Priest. Brave and aspiring, Victor Le Roy could not think of
+these things, involved in the names of things above specified, as more
+calculating, prudent spirits might have done. It was his business, as a
+student, to ascertain what powers were working in the world. All true
+characters, of past time or present, must be weighed and measured by
+him. Result was what he aimed at.
+
+Jacqueline's words had not given him new thoughts, but unawares they did
+summon him to his appointed labor. He looked to find the truth. He must
+stand to do his work. He must haste to make his choice. Enthusiastic,
+chivalrous, and strong, he was seeking the divine right, night and
+day,--and to ascertain that, as it seemed, he had come from Picardy to
+Meaux.
+
+Elsie Méril went to bed, as she had invited Jacqueline to do; to sleep,
+to dream, she went,--and to smile, in her dreaming, on the world that
+smiled on her.
+
+Jacqueline sat by the window; leaned from the window, and prayed; her
+own prayer she prayed, as Antonine had said she must, if she would
+discover what she needed, and obtain an answer.
+
+She thought of the dead,--her own. She pondered on the future. She
+recalled some lines of the hymn Antonine had repeated, and she
+wished--oh, how she wished!--that, while the woman lived, and could
+reason and speak, she had told her about the letter she had received
+from the priest of Domrémy. Many a time it had been on her lips to tell,
+but she failed in courage to bring her poor affairs into that chamber
+and disturb that dying hour. Now she wished that she had done it. Now
+she felt that speech had been the merest act of justice to herself.
+
+But there was Leclerc, the wool-comber, and his mother; she might rely
+on them for the instruction she needed.
+
+Old Antonine's faith had made a deep impression on the strong-hearted
+and deep-thinking girl; as also had the prayers of John
+Leclerc,--especially that last prayer offered for Antonine. It seemed to
+authenticate, by its strong, unfaltering utterance, the poor old woman's
+evidence. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever,"
+were strong words that seemed about to take possession of the heart of
+Jacqueline.
+
+Therefore, while Elsie slept, she prayed,--looking farther than the
+city-streets, and darkness,--looking farther than the shining stars.
+What she sought, poor girl, stood in her silent chamber, stood in her
+waiting heart. But she knew Him not, and her ear was heavy; she did not
+hear the voice, that she should answer Him, "Rabboni!"
+
+
+II.
+
+
+A fortnight from this night, after the harvesters had left the fields of
+M. Flaval, Jacqueline was lingering in the twilight.
+
+The instant the day's work was done, the laborers set out for Meaux,
+Their haste suggested some unusual cause.
+
+John Leclerc, wool-comber, had received that day his sentence. Report of
+the sentence had spread among the reapers in the field and all along the
+vineyards of the hill-sides. Not a little stir was occasioned by this
+sentence: three days of whipping through the public streets, to conclude
+with branding on the forehead. For this Leclerc, it seemed, had
+profanely and audaciously declared that a man might in his own behalf
+deal with the invisible God, by the mediation of Christ, the sole
+Mediator between God and man. Viewed in the light of his offence, his
+punishment certainly was of the mildest. Tidings of his sentence were
+received with various emotion: by some as though they were maddened
+with new wine; others wept openly; many more were pained at heart; some
+brutally rejoiced; some were incredulous.
+
+But now they were all on their way to Meaux; the fields were quite
+deserted. Urged by one desire, to ascertain the facts of the trial,
+and the time when the sentence would be executed, the laborers were
+returning to the town.
+
+Without demonstration of any emotion, Jacqueline Gabrie, quiet,
+silent, walked along the river-bank, until she came to the clump of
+chestnut-trees, whose shadow fell across the stream. Many a time,
+through the hot, dreadful day, her eyes turned wistfully to this place.
+In the morning Elsie Méril had promised Jacqueline that at twilight they
+would read together here the leaves the poor old mother of Leclerc gave
+Jacqueline last night: when they had read them, they would walk home by
+starlight together. But now the time had come, and Jacqueline was alone.
+Elsie had returned to town with other young harvesters.
+
+"Very well," said Jacqueline, when Elsie told her she must go. It was
+not, indeed, inexplicable that she should prefer the many voices to the
+one,--excitement and company, rather than quiet, dangerous thinking.
+
+But, thus left alone, the face of Jacqueline expressed both sorrow and
+indignation. She would exact nothing of Elsie; but latterly how often
+had she expected of her companion more than she gave or could give!
+
+Of course the young girl was equal to others in pity and surprise; but
+there were people in the world beside the wool-comber and his mother.
+Nothing of vast import was suggested by his sentence to her mind. She
+did not see that spiritual freedom was threatened with destruction. If
+she heard the danger questioned, she could not apprehend it. Though she
+had listened to the preaching of Leclerc and had been moved by it, her
+sense of truth and of justice was not so acute as to lead her willingly
+to incur a risk in the maintaining of the same.
+
+She would not look into Antonine's Bible, which Jacqueline had read so
+much during the last fortnight. She was not the girl to torment herself
+about her soul, when the Church would save it for her by mere compliance
+with a few easy regulations.
+
+More and more was Elsie disappointing Jacqueline. Day by day these girls
+were developing in ways which bade fair to separate them in the end.
+When now they had most need of each other, their estrangement was
+becoming more apparent and decided. The peasant-dress of Elsie would not
+content her always, Jacqueline said sadly to herself.
+
+Jacqueline's tracts, indeed, promised poorly as entertainment for an
+hour of rest;--rest gained by hours of toil. The confusion of tongues
+and the excitement of the city pleased Elsie better. So she went along
+the road to Meaux, and was not talking, neither thinking, all the way,
+of the wrongs of John Leclerc, and the sorrows of his mother,--neither
+meditating constantly, and with deep-seated purpose, "I will not let
+thee go, except thou bless me!"--neither on this problem, agitated then
+in so many earnest minds, "What shall a man give in exchange for his
+soul?"
+
+Thus Jacqueline sat alone and thought that she would read by herself the
+tracts Leclerc had found it good to study. But unopened she held the
+little printed scroll, while she watched the home-returning birds, whose
+nests were in the mighty branches of the chestnut-trees.
+
+She needed the repose more than the teaching, even; for all day the
+sun had fallen heavily on the harvesters,--and toiling with a troubled
+heart, under a burning sun, will leave the laborer not in the best
+condition for such work as Jacqueline believed she had to do.
+
+But she had promised the old woman she would read these tracts, and this
+was her only time, for they must be returned that night: others were
+waiting for them with an eagerness and longing of which, haply,
+tract-dispensers see little now. Still she delayed in opening them. The
+news of Leclerc's sentence had filled her with dismay.
+
+Did she dread to read the truth,--"the truth of Jesus Christ," as
+his mother styled it? The frightful image of the bleeding, lacerated
+wool-comber would come between her and the book in which that faith was
+written for maintaining which this man must suffer. Strange contrast
+between the heavy gloom and terror of her thoughts and the peaceful
+"river flowing on"! How tranquil were the fields that spread beyond
+her sight! But there is no rest or joy in Nature to the agitated and
+foreboding spirit. Must we not have conquered the world, if we serenely
+enter into Nature's rest?
+
+Fain would Jacqueline have turned her face and steps in another
+direction that night than toward the road that led to Meaux: to the
+village on the border of the Vosges,--to the ancient Domrémy. Once her
+home was there; but Jacqueline had passed forth from the old, humble,
+true defences: for herself must live and die.
+
+Domrémy had a home for her no more. The priest, on whom she had relied
+when all failed her, was still there, it is true; and once she had
+thought, that, while he lived, she was not fatherless, not homeless: but
+his authority had ceased to be paternal, and she trusted him no longer.
+
+She had two graves in the old village, and among the living a few faces
+she never could forget. But on this earth she had no home.
+
+Musing on these dreary facts, and on the bleeding, branded image of
+Leclerc, as her imagination rendered him back to his friends, his
+fearful trial over, a vision more familiar to her childhood than her
+youth opened to Jacqueline.
+
+There was one who used to wander through the woods that bordered the
+mountains in whose shadow stood Domrémy,--one whose works had glorified
+her name in the England and the France that made a martyr of her. Jeanne
+d'Arc had ventured all things for the truth's sake: was she, who also
+came forth from that village, by any power commissioned?
+
+Jacqueline laid the tracts on the grass. Over them she placed a stone.
+She bowed her head. She hid her face. She saw no more the river, trees,
+or home-returning birds; heard not the rush of water or of wind,--nor,
+even now, the hurry and the shout; that possibly to-morrow would follow
+the poor wool-comber through the streets of Meaux,--and on the third day
+they would brand him!
+
+She remembered an old cottage in the shadow of the forest-covered
+mountains. She remembered one who died there suddenly, and without
+remedy,--her father, unabsolved and unanointed, dying in fear and
+torment, in a moment when none anticipated death. She remembered a
+strong-hearted woman who seemed to die with him,--who died to all the
+interests of this life, and was buried by her husband ere a twelvemonth
+had passed,--her mother, who was buried by her father's side.
+
+Burdened with a solemn care they left their child. The priest of
+Domrémy, and none beside him, knew the weight of this burden. How had he
+helped her bear it? since it is the _business_ of the shepherd to look
+after the younglings of the flock. Her hard earnings paid him for
+the prayers he offered for the deliverance of her father from his
+purgatorial woes. Burdened with a dire debt of filial love, the priest
+had let her depart from Domrémy; his influence followed her as an
+oppression and a care,--a degradation also.
+
+Her life of labor was a slavish life. All she did, and all she left
+undone, she looked at with sad-hearted reference to the great object of
+her life. Far away she put all allurement to tempting, youthful joy.
+What had she to do with merriment and jollity, while a sin remained
+unexpiated, or a moment of her father's suffering and sorrow could be
+anticipated?
+
+How, probably, would these new doctrines, held fast by some through
+persecution and danger, these doctrines which brought liberty to light,
+be received by one so fast a prisoner of Hope as she? She had pledged
+herself, with solemn vows had promised, to complete the work her mother
+left unfinished when she died.
+
+Some of the laborers in the field, Elsie among them, had hoped, they
+said, that the wool-comber would retract from his dangerous position.
+Recalling their words, Jacqueline asked herself would she choose to have
+him retract? She reminded herself of the only martyr whose memory she
+loved, the glorious girl from Domrémy, and a lofty and stern spirit
+seemed to rouse within her as she answered that question. She believed
+that John had found and taught the truth; and was Truth to be sacrificed
+to Power that hated it? Not by a suicidal act, at least.
+
+She took the tracts, so judging, from underneath the stone, wistfully
+looked them over, and, as she did so, recalled these words: "You cannot
+buy your pardon of a priest; he has no power to sell it; he cannot even
+give it. Ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, upbraiding not.
+'If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how
+much more shall your Heavenly Father give his Holy Spirit to them that
+ask him!'"
+
+She could never forget these words. She could never forget the
+preacher's look when he used them; nor the solemnity of the assenting
+faith, as attested by the countenances of those around her in that
+"upper room."
+
+But her father! What would this faith do for the departed?
+
+Yet again she dared to pray,--here in this solitude, to ask for that
+Holy Spirit, the Enlightener. And it was truly with trembling, in
+the face of all presentiments of what the gift might possibly, must
+certainly, import to her. But what was she, that she could withstand
+God, or His gift, for any fear of the result that might attend the
+giving of the gift?
+
+Divinely she seemed to be inspired with that courageous thought. She
+rose up, as if to follow the laborers who had already gone to Meaux. But
+she had not passed out from the shadow of the great trees when another
+shadow fell along her path.
+
+
+III.
+
+
+It was Victor Le Roy who was so close at hand. He recognized Jacqueline;
+for, as he came down the road, now and then he caught a glimpse of her
+red peasant-dress. And he accepted his persuasion as it had been an
+assurance; for he believed that on such a night no other girl would
+linger alone near the place of her day's labor. Moreover, while passing
+the group of harvesters, he had observed that she was not among them.
+
+The acquaintance of these young persons was but slight; yet it was of
+such a character as must needs increase. Within the last fortnight they
+had met repeatedly in the room of Leclerc's mother. On the last night of
+her son's preaching they had together listened to his words. The young
+student with manly aspirations, ambitious, courageous, inquiring, and
+the peasant girl who toiled in fields and vineyards, were on the same
+day hearkening to the call, "Ho, every one that thirsteth!" with the
+consciousness that the call was meant for them.
+
+When Victor Le Roy saw that Jacqueline perceived and recognized him, he
+also observed the tracts in her hand and the trouble in her countenance,
+and he wondered in his heart whether she could be ignorant of what had
+passed that day at Meaux, and if it could be possible that her manifest
+disturbance arose from any perplexity or disquietude independent of the
+sentence that had been passed on John Leclerc. His first words brought
+an answer that satisfied his doubt.
+
+"She has chosen that good part which shall not be taken from her," said
+he, as he came near. "The country is so fair, could no one of them all
+except Jacqueline see that? Were they all drawn away by the bloody
+fascination of Meaux? even Elsie?"
+
+"It was the news that hurried her home with the rest," answered she,
+almost pleased at this disturbance of the solitude.
+
+"Did that keep you here, Jacqueline?" he asked. "It sent me out of the
+city. The dust choked me. Every face looked like a devil's. To-morrow
+night, to-morrow night, the harvesters will hurry all the faster.
+Terrible curiosity! And if they find traces of his blood along the
+streets, there will be enough to talk about through the rest of the
+harvesting. Jacqueline, if the river could be poured through those
+streets, the sacred blood could never be washed out. 'Tis not the
+indignity, nor the cruelty, I think of most, but the barbarous, wild
+sin. Shall a man's truest liberty be taken from him, as though, indeed,
+he were not a man of God, but the spiritual subject of his fellows? If
+that is their plan, they may light the fires,--there are many who will
+not shrink from sealing their faith with their blood."
+
+These words, spoken with vehemence, were the first free utterance
+Victor Le Roy had given to his feelings all day. All day they had been
+concentrating, and now came from him fiery and fast.
+
+It was time for him to know in whom and in what he believed.
+
+Greatly moved by his words, Jacqueline said, giving him the tracts,--
+
+"I came from Domrémy, I am free. No one can be hurt by what befalls me.
+I want to know the truth. I am not afraid. Did John Leclerc never give
+way for a moment? Is he really to be whipped through the streets, and on
+the third day to be branded? Will he not retract?"
+
+"Never!" was the answer,--spoken not without a shudder. "He did not
+flinch through all the trial, Jacqueline. And his old mother says,
+'Blessed be Jesus Christ and his witnesses!'"
+
+"I came from Domrémy," seemed to be in the girl's thought again; for
+her eyes flashed when she looked at Victor Le Roy, as though she could
+believe the heavens would open for the enlightening of such believers.
+
+"She gave me those to read," said she, pointing to the tracts she had
+given him.
+
+"And have you been reading them here by yourself?"
+
+"No. Elsie and I were to have read them together; but I fell to
+thinking."
+
+"You mean to wait for her, then?"
+
+"I was afraid I should not make the right sense of them."
+
+"Sit down, Jacqueline, and let me read aloud. I have read them before.
+And I understand them better than Elsie does, or ever will."
+
+"I am afraid that is true, Sir. If you read, I will listen."
+
+But he did not, with this permission, begin instantly.
+
+"You came from Domrémy, Jacqueline," said he. "I came from Picardy. My
+home was within a stone's throw of the castle where Jeanne d'Arc was a
+prisoner before they carried her to Rouen. I have often walked about
+that castle and tried to think how it must have been with her when they
+left her there a prisoner. God knows, perhaps we shall all have an
+opportunity of knowing, how she felt when a prisoner of Truth. Like a
+fly in a spider's net she was, poor girl! Only nineteen! She had lived
+a life that was worth the living, Jacqueline. She knew she was about
+to meet the fate her heart must have foretold. Girls do not run such a
+course and then die quietly in their beds. They are attended to their
+rest by grim sentinels, and they light fagots for them. I have read the
+story many a time, when I could look at the window of the very room
+where she was a prisoner. It was strange to think of her witnessing the
+crowning of the King, with the conviction that her work ended there and
+then,--of the women who brought their children to touch her garments or
+her hands, to let her smile on them, or speak to them, or maybe kiss
+them. And the soldiers deemed their swords were stronger when they had
+but touched hers. And they knelt down to kiss her standard, that white
+standard, so often victorious! I have read many a time of that glorious
+day at Rheims."
+
+"And she said, _that_ day,' Oh, why can I not die here?'" said
+Jacqueline, with a low voice.
+
+"And when the Archbishop asked her," continued Victor, "'Where do you,
+then, expect to die?' she answered, 'I know not. I shall die where God
+pleases. I have done what the Lord my God commanded me; and I wish that
+He would now send me to keep my sheep with my mother and sister.'"
+
+"Because she loved Domrémy, and her work was done," said Jacqueline,
+sadly. "And so many hated her! But her mother would be sure to love.
+Jeanne would never see an evil eye in Domrémy, and no one would lie in
+wait to kill her in the Vosges woods."
+
+"It was such as you, Jacqueline, who believed in her, and comforted her.
+And to every one that consoled her Christ will surely say, 'Ye blessed
+of my Father, ye did it unto me!' Yes, to be sure, there were too many
+who stood ready to kill her in all France,--besides those who were
+afraid of her, and fought against our armies. Even when they were taking
+her to see the Dauphin, the guard would have drowned her, and lied about
+it, but they were restrained. It is something to have been born in
+Domrémy,--to have grown up in the very place where she used to play, a
+happy little girl. You have seen that fountain, and heard the bells she
+loved so much. It was good for you, I know."
+
+"Her prayers were everywhere," Jacqueline replied. "Everywhere she heard
+the voices that called her to come and deliver France. But her father
+did not believe in her. He persecuted Jeanne."
+
+"A man's foes are of his own household," said Victor. "You see the same
+thing now. It is the very family of Christ--yes! so they dare call
+it--who are going to tear and rend Leclerc to-morrow for believing the
+words of Christ. A hundred judges settled that Jeanne should be burned;
+and for believing such words as are in these books"--
+
+"Read me those words," said Jacqueline.
+
+So they turned from speaking of Joan and her work, to contemplate
+another style of heroism, and to question their own hearts.
+
+Jacqueline Gabrie had lived through eighteen years of hardship and
+exposure. She was strong, contented, resolute. Left to herself, she
+would probably have suffered no disturbance of her creed,--would have
+lived and died conforming to the letter of its law. But thrown under
+the influence of those who did agitate the subject, she was brave and
+clear-headed. She listened now, while, according to her wish, her
+neighbor read,--listened with clear intelligence, intent on the truth.
+That, or any truth, accepted, she would hardly shrink from whatever it
+involved. This was the reason why she had really feared to ask the Holy
+Ghost's enlightenment! So well she understood herself! Truth was truth,
+and, if received, to be abided by. She could not hold it loosely. She
+could not trifle with it. She was born in Domrémy. She had played under
+the Fairy Oak. She knew the woods where Joan wandered when she sought
+her saintly solitude. The fact was acting on her as an inspiration,
+when Domrémy became a memory, when she labored far away from the wooded
+Vosges and the meadows of Lorraine.
+
+She listened to the reading, as girls do not always listen when they sit
+in the presence of a reader such as young Le Roy.
+
+And let it here be understood--that the conclusion bring no sorrow, and
+no sense of wrong to those who turn these pages, thinking to find the
+climax dear to half-fledged imagination, incapable from inexperience of
+any deeper truth, (I render them all homage!)--this story is not told
+for any sake but truth's.
+
+This Jacqueline did listen to this Victor, thinking actually of the
+words he read. She looked at him really to ascertain whether her
+apprehension of these things was all the same as his. She questioned
+him, with the simple desire to learn what he could tell her. Her hands
+were very hard, so constant had been her dealing with the rough facts of
+this life; but the hard hand was firm in its clasp, and ready with its
+helpfulness. Her eyes were open, and very clear of dreams. There was
+room in them for tenderness as well as truth. Her voice was not the
+sweetest of all voices in this world; but it had the quality that would
+make it prized by others when heart and flesh were failing; for it would
+be strong to speak then with cheerful faith and an unfaltering courage.
+
+Jacqueline sat there under the chestnut-trees, upon the river-bank,
+strong-hearted, high-hearted, a brave, generous woman. What if her days
+were toilsome? What if her peasant-dress was not the finest woven in the
+looms of Paris or of Meaux? Her prayers were brief, her toil was long,
+her sleep was sound,--her virtue firm as the everlasting mountains.
+Jacqueline, I have singled you from among hordes and tribes and legions
+upon legions of women, one among ten thousand, altogether lovely,--not
+for dalliance, not for idleness, not for dancing, which is well; not for
+song, which is better; not for beauty, which, perhaps, is best; not for
+grace, or power, or passion. There is an attribute of God which is more
+to His universe than all evidence of power. It is His truth. Jacqueline,
+it is for this your name shall shine upon my page.
+
+And, manifestly, it is by virtue of this quality that her reader is
+moved and attracted at this hour of twilight on the river-bank.
+
+Her intelligence is so quick! her apprehension so direct! her
+conclusions so true! He intended to aid her; but Mazurier himself had
+never uttered comments so entirely to the purpose as did this young
+girl, speaking from heart and brain. Better fortune, apparently, could
+not have befallen him than was his in this reading; for with every
+sentence almost came her comment, clear, earnest, to the point.
+
+He had need of such a friend as Jacqueline seemed able to prove herself.
+His nearest living relative was an uncle, who had sent the ambitious and
+capable young student to Meaux; for he gave great promise, and was worth
+an experiment, the old man thought,--and was strong to be thrown out
+into the world, where he might ascertain the power of self-reliance. He
+had need of friends, and, of all friends, one like Jacqueline.
+
+From the silence and retirement of his home in Picardy he had come
+to Meaux,--the town that was so astir, busy, thoroughly alive!
+Inexperienced in worldly ways he came. His face was beautiful with its
+refinement and power of expression. His eyes were full of eloquence;
+so also was his voice. When he came from Picardy to Meaux, his old
+neighbors prophesied for him. He knew their prophecies, and purposed to
+fulfil them. He ceased from dreaming, when he came to Meaux. He was not
+dreaming, when he looked on Jacqueline. He was aware of what he read,
+and how she listened, under those chestnut-trees.
+
+The burden of the tracts he read to Jacqueline was salvation by faith,
+not of works,--an iconoclastic doctrine, that was to sweep away
+the great mass of Romish superstition, invalidating Papal power.
+Image-worship, shrine-frequenting sacrifices, indulgences, were esteemed
+and proved less than nothing worth in the work of salvation.
+
+"Did you understand John, when he said that the priests deceived us and
+were full of robberies, and talked about the masses for the dead, and
+said the only good of them was to put money into the Church?" asked
+Jacqueline.
+
+"I believe it," he replied, with spirit.
+
+"That the masses are worth nothing?" she asked,--far from concealing
+that the thought disturbed her.
+
+"What can they be worth, if a man has lived a bad life?"
+
+"_That_ my father did _not!_" she exclaimed.
+
+"If a man is a bad man, why, then he is. He has gone where he must be
+judged. The Scripture says, As a tree falls, it must lie."
+
+"My father was a good man, Victor. But he died of a sudden, and there
+was no time."
+
+"No time for what, Jacqueline? No time for him to turn about, and be a
+bad man in the end?"
+
+"No time for confession and absolution. He died praying God to forgive
+him all his sins. I heard him. I wondered, Victor, for I never thought
+of his committing sins. And my mother mourned for him as a good wife
+should not mourn for a bad husband."
+
+"Then what is your trouble, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Do you know why I came here to Meaux? I came to get money,--to earn it.
+I should be paid more money here than I got for any work at home, they
+said: that was the reason. When I had earned so much,--it was a large
+sum, but I knew I should get it, and the priest encouraged me to think
+I should,--he said that my heart's desire would be accomplished. And I
+could earn the money before winter is over, I think. But now, if"----
+
+"Throw it into the Seine, when you get it, rather than pay it to the
+liar for selling your father out of a place he was never in! He is safe,
+believe me, if he was the good man you say. Do not disturb yourself,
+Jacqueline."
+
+"He never harmed a soul. And we loved him that way a bad man could not
+be loved."
+
+As Jacqueline said this, a smile more sad than joyful passed over her
+face, and disappeared.
+
+"He rests in peace," said Victor Le Roy.
+
+"It is what I must believe. But what if there should be a mistake about
+it? It was all I was working for."
+
+"Think for yourself, Jacqueline. No matter what Leclerc thinks or I
+think. Can you suppose that Jesus Christ requires any such thing as this
+of you, that you should make a slave of yourself for the expiation of
+your father? It is a monstrous thought. Doubt not it was love that
+took him away so quickly. And love can care for him. Long before this,
+doubtless, he has heard the words, 'Come, ye blessed of my father!' And
+what is required of you, do you ask? You shall be merciful to them that
+live; and trust Him that He will care for those who have gone beyond
+your reach. Is it so? Do I understand you? You have been thinking to
+_buy_ this good _gift_ of God, eternal life for your father, when of
+course you could have nothing to do with it. You have been imposed upon,
+and robbed all this while, and this is the amount of it."
+
+"Well, do not speak so. If what you say is true,--and I think it may
+be,--what is past is past."
+
+"But won't you see what an infernal lie has been practised on you, and
+all the rest of us who had any conscience or heart in us, all this
+while? There _is_ no purgatory; and it is nonsense to think, that, if
+there were, money could buy a man out of it. Jesus Christ is the one
+sole atonement for sin. And by faith in Him shall a man save his soul
+alive. That is the only way. If I lose my soul, and am gone, the rest
+is between me and God. Do you see it _should_ be so, and must be so,
+Jacqueline?"
+
+"He was a good man," said Jacqueline.
+
+She did not find it quite easy to make nothing of all this matter, which
+had been the main-spring of her effort since her father died. She could
+not in one instant drop from her calculations that on which she had
+heretofore based all her activity. She had labored so long, so hard, to
+buy the rest and peace and heavenly blessedness of the father she loved,
+it was hardly to be expected that at once she would choose to see that
+in that rest and peace and blessedness, she, as a producing power, had
+no part whatever.
+
+As she more than hinted, the purpose of her life seemed to be taken from
+her. She could not perceive that fact without some consternation; could
+not instantly connect it with another, which should enable her to look
+around her with the deliberation of a liberated spirit, choosing her new
+work. And in this she was acted upon by more than the fear arising from
+the influences of her old belief. Of course she should have been, and
+yet she was not, able to drop instantly and forever from recollection
+the constant sacrifices she had made, the deprivation she had endured,
+with heroic persistence,--the putting far away every personal
+indulgence whose price had a market value. Her father was not the only
+person concerned in this work; the priest; herself. She had believed
+in the pastor of Domrémy. Yet he had deceived her. Else he was
+self-deceived; and what if the blind should strive to lead the blind?
+_Could_ she accept the new faith, the great freedom, with perfect
+rejoicing?
+
+Victor Le Roy seemed to have some suspicion of what was passing in
+her thoughts. He did not need to watch her changeful face in order to
+understand them.
+
+"I advise you to still think of this," said he. "Recall your father's
+life, and then ask yourself if it is likely that He who is Love requires
+the sacrifice of your youth and your strength before your father shall
+receive from Him what He has promised to give to all who trust in Him.
+Take God at his word, and you will be obliged to give up all this
+priest-trash."
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+Victor Le Roy spoke these words quietly, as if aware that he might
+safely leave them, as well as any other true words, to the just sense of
+Jacqueline.
+
+She was none the happier for them when she returned that night to the
+little city room, the poor lodging whose high window overlooked both
+town and country, city streets and harvest-fields, and the river flowing
+on beyond the borders of the town,--no happier through many a moment of
+thinking, until, as it were by an instant illumination, she began to
+see the truth of the matter, as some might wonder she did not instantly
+perceive it, if they could omit from observation this leading fact, that
+the orphan girl was Jacqueline Gabrie, child of the Church, and not
+a wise and generous person, who had never been in bondage to
+superstitions.
+
+For a long time after her return to her lodging she was alone. Elsie was
+in the street with the rest of the town, talking, as all were talking,
+of the sight that Meaux should see to-morrow.
+
+Besides Jacqueline, there was hardly another person in this great
+building, six stories high, every room of which had usually a tenant at
+this hour. She sat by her window, and looked at the dusky town, over
+which the moon was rising. But her thoughts were far away; over many a
+league they wandered.
+
+Once more she stood on the playground of her toilsome childhood. She
+recalled many a year of sacrificing drudgery, which now she could not
+name such,--for another reason than that which had heretofore prevented
+her from calling it a sacrifice. She remembered these years of wrong and
+of extortion,--they received their proper name now,--years whose mirth
+and leisure she had quietly foregone, but during which she had borne a
+burden that saddened youth, while it also dignified it,--a burden which
+had made her heart's natural cheerfulness the subject of self-reproach,
+and her maiden dreams and wishes matter for tears, for shame, for
+confession, for prayer.
+
+Now Victor Le Roy's words came to her very strangely; powerfully they
+moved her. She believed them in this solitude, where at leisure she
+could meditate upon them. A vision more fair and blessed than she had
+ever imagined rose before her. There was no suffering in it, and no
+sorrow; it was full of peace. Already, in the heaven to which she had
+hoped her toil would give him at length admission, her father had found
+his home. There was a glory in his rest not reflected from her filial
+love, but from the all-availing love of Christ.
+
+Then--delay the rigor of your judgment!--she began,--yes, she, this
+Jacqueline, began to count the cost of what she had done. She was not a
+sordid soul, she had not a miserly nature. Before she had gone far in
+that strange computation, she paused abruptly, with a crimsoned face,
+and not with tearless eyes. Counting the cost! Estimating the sacrifice!
+Had, then, her purpose been less holy because excited by falsehood and
+sustained through delusion? Was she less loving and less true, because
+deceived? And was she to lament that Christ, the one and only Priest,
+rather than another instrumentality, was the deliverer of her beloved
+from the power of death?
+
+No ritual was remembered, and no formula consulted, when she cried
+out,--"It is so! and I thank Thee! Only give me now, my Jesus, a
+purpose as holy as that Thou hast taken away!"
+
+But she had not come into her chamber to spend a solitary evening there.
+Turning away from the window, she bestowed a little care upon her
+person, smoothed away the traces of her day's labor, and after all was
+done she lingered yet longer. She was going out, evidently. Whither? To
+visit the mother of John Leclerc. She must carry back the tracts the
+good woman had lent her. Their contents had firm lodgement in her
+memory.
+
+Others might run to and fro in the streets, and talk about the corners,
+and prognosticate with passion, and defy, in the way of cowardice, where
+safety rather than the truth is well assured. If one woman could console
+another, Jacqueline wished that she might console Leclerc's mother. And
+if any words of wisdom could drop from the poor old woman's lips while
+her soul was in this strait, Jacqueline desired to hear those words.
+
+Down the many flights of stairs she went across the court, and then
+along the street, to the house where the wool-comber lived.
+
+A brief pause followed her knock for admittance. She repeated it. Then
+was heard a sound from within,--a step crossing the floor. The door
+opened, and there stood the mother of Leclerc, ready to face any danger,
+the very Fiend himself.
+
+But when she saw that it was Jacqueline, only Jacqueline,--an angel, as
+one might say, and not a devil,--the terrible look passed from her face;
+she opened the door wide.
+
+"Come in, child! come in!"
+
+So Jacqueline went into the room where John had worked and thought,
+reasoned, argued, prayed.
+
+This is the home of the man because of whom many are this night offended
+in the city of Meaux. This is the place whence issued the power that has
+set the tongues to talking, and the minds to thinking, and the hearts to
+hoping, and the authorities to avenging.
+
+A grain of mustard-seed is the kingdom of heaven in a figure; the
+wandering winds a symbol of the Pentecostal power: a dove did signify
+the descent of God to man. This poor chamber, so pent in, and so lowly,
+so obscure, has its significance. Here has a life been lived; and not
+the least does it import, that walls are rough and the ceiling low.
+
+But the life of John Leclerc was not to be limited. A power has stood
+here which by its freedom has set at defiance the customary calculation
+of the worldly-wise. In high places and in low the people are this night
+disturbed because of him who has dared to lift his voice in the freedom
+of the speech of God. In drawing-rooms odorous with luxury the man's
+name has mention, and the vulgarity of his liberated speech and
+courageous faith is a theme to move the wonder and excite the
+reprobation of hearts whose languid beating keeps up their show of life,
+--to what sufficient purpose expect me not to tell. His voice is loud
+and harsh to echo through these music-loving halls; it rends and tears,
+with almost savage strength, the dainty silences.
+
+But busier tongues are elsewhere more vehement in speech; larger
+hearts beat faster indignation; grief and vulgarest curiosity are all
+manifesting themselves after their several necessity. In solitary places
+heroes pray throughout the night, wrestling like Jacob, agonizing like
+Saul, and with some of them the angel left his blessing; for some the
+golden harp was struck that soothed their souls to peace. Angels of
+heaven had work to do that night. Angels of heaven and hell did prove
+themselves that night in Meaux: night of unrest and sleeplessness, or of
+cruel dreaming; night of bloody visions, tortured by the apprehension
+of a lacerated body driven through the city streets, and of the hooting
+shouts of Devildom; night haunted by a gory image,--the defiled temple
+of the Holy Ghost.
+
+Did the prospect of torture keep _him_ wakeful? Could the man bear the
+disgrace, the derision, shouting, agony? Was there nothing in this
+thought, that as a witness of Jesus Christ he was to appear next day,
+that should soothe him even unto slumber? Upon the silence of his
+guarded chamber let none but ministering angels break. Sacred to him,
+and to Him who watched the hours of the night, let the night go!
+
+But here--his mother, Jacqueline with her--we may linger with these.
+
+
+V.
+
+
+When the old woman saw that it was Jacqueline Gabrie who stood waiting
+admittance, she opened the door wider, as I said; and the dark solemnity
+of her countenance seemed to be, by so much as a single ray, enlivened
+for an instant.
+
+She at once perceived the tracts which Jacqueline had brought. Aware of
+this, the girl said,--
+
+"I stayed to hear them read, after I heard that for the sake of the
+truth in them"--she hesitated--"this city will invite God's wrath
+to-morrow."
+
+And she gave the papers to the old woman, who took them in silence.
+
+By-and-by she asked,--
+
+"Are you just home, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Since sunset,--though it was nearly dark when I came in,"--she
+answered. "Victor Le Roy was down by the riverbank, and he read them for
+me."
+
+"He wanted to get out of town, maybe. You would surely have thought it
+was a holiday, Jacqueline, if you could have seen the people. Anything
+for a show: but some of them might well lament. Did you want to know the
+truth he pays so dear for teaching? But you have heard it, my child."
+
+"We all heard what he must pay for it, in the fields at noon. Yes,
+mother, I wanted to know."
+
+"But if you shall believe it, Jacqueline, it may lead you into danger,
+into sad straits," said the old woman, looking at the young girl with
+earnest pity in her eyes.
+
+She loved this girl, and shuddered at the thought of exposing her to
+danger.
+
+Jacqueline had nursed her neighbor, Antonine, and more than once, after
+a hard day's labor, which must be followed by another, she had sat with
+her through the night; and she could pay this service only with love,
+and the best gift of her love was to instruct her in the truth. John and
+she had proved their grateful interest in her fortunes by giving her
+that which might expose her to danger, persecution, and they could not
+foresee to what extremity of evil.
+
+And now the old woman felt constrained to say this to her, even for her
+love's sake,--"It may lead you into danger."
+
+"But if truth is dangerous, shall I choose to be safe?" answered
+Jacqueline, with stately courage.
+
+"It _is_ truth. It _will_ support him. Blessed be Jesus Christ and His
+witnesses! To-night, and to-morrow, and the third day, our Jesus will
+sustain him. They think John will retract. They do not know my son. They
+do not know how he has waited, prayed, and studied to learn the truth,
+and how dear it is to him. No, Jacqueline, they do not. But when they
+prove him, they will know. And if he is willing to witness, shall I
+not be glad? The people will understand him better afterward,--and the
+priests, maybe. 'I can do all things,' said he, 'Christ strengthening
+me'; and that was said long ago, by one who was proved. Where shall you
+be, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Oh," groaned Jacqueline, "I shall be in the fields at work, away from
+these cruel people, and the noise and the sight. But, mother, where
+shall you be?"
+
+"With the people, child. With him, if I live. Yes, he is my son; and
+I have never been ashamed of the brave boy. I will not be ashamed
+to-morrow. I will follow John; and when they bind him, I will let him
+see his mother's eyes are on him,--blessing him, my child!--Hark! how
+they talk through the streets!--Jacqueline, he was never a coward. He
+is strong, too. They will not kill him, and they cannot make him dumb.
+He will hold the truth the faster for all they do to him. Jesus Christ
+on his side, do you think he will fear the city, or all Paris, or all
+France? He does not know what it is to be afraid. And when God opened
+his eyes to the truth of his gospel, which the priests had hid, he meant
+that John should work for it,--for he is a working-man, whatever he sets
+about."
+
+So this old woman tried, and not without success, to comfort herself,
+and sustain her tender, proud, maternal heart. The dire extremity into
+which she and her son had fallen did not crush her; few were the tears
+that fell from her eyes as she recalled for Jacqueline the years of her
+son's boyhood,--told her of his courage, as in various ways it had made
+itself manifest: how he had always been fearless in danger,--a
+conqueror of pain,--seemingly regardless of comfort,--fond of
+contemplation,--contented with his humble state,--kindly, affectionate,
+generous, but easily stirred to wrath by injustice, when manifested by
+the strong toward the weak,--or by cruelty, or by falsehood.
+
+Many an anecdote of his career might she relate; for his character,
+under the pressure of this trial, which was as searching and severe a
+test of her faith as of his, seemed to illustrate itself in manifold
+heroic ways, all now of the highest significance. With more majesty and
+grandeur his character arose before her; for now in all the past, as she
+surveyed it, she beheld a living power, a capability, and a necessity of
+new and grand significance, and her heart reverenced the spirit she had
+nursed into being.
+
+Removed to the distance of a prison from her sight, separated from
+her love by bolts and bars, and the wrath of tyranny and close-banded
+bigotry, he became a power, a hero, who moved her, as she recalled
+his sentence, and prophesied the morrow, to a feeling tears could not
+explain.
+
+They passed the night together, the young woman and the old. In the
+morning Jacqueline must go into the field again. She was in haste to go.
+Leaving a kiss on the old woman's cheek, she was about to steal away in
+silence; but as she laid her hand upon the latch, a thought arrested
+her, and she did not open the door, but went back and sat beside the
+window, and watched the mother of Leclerc through the sleep that must be
+brief. It was not in her heart to go away and leave those eyes to waken
+upon solitude. She must see a helpful hand and hopeful face, and, if it
+might be, hear a cheerful human voice, in the dawning of that day.
+
+She had not long to wait, and the time she may have lost in waiting
+Jacqueline did not count or reckon, when she heard her name spoken, and
+could answer, "What wilt thou? here am I."
+
+Not in vain had she lingered. What were wages, more or less, that they
+should be mentioned, thought of, when she might give and receive here
+what the world gives not, and never has to give,--and what a mortal
+cannot buy, the treasure being priceless? Through the quiet of that
+morning hour, soothing words, and strong, she felt and knew to speak;
+and when at last she hurried away from the city to the fields, she was
+stronger than of nature, able to bear witness to the faith that speaks
+from the bewilderment of its distresses, "Though He slay me, yet will I
+trust in Him."
+
+Not alone had her young, frank, loving eyes enlivened the dreary morning
+to the heart of Leclerc's mother. Grace for grace had she received. And
+words of the hymn that were always on John's lips had found echo
+from his mother's memory this morning: they lodged in the heart of
+Jacqueline. She went away repeating,--
+
+ "In the midst of death, the jaws
+ Of hell against us gape.
+ Who from peril dire as this
+ Openeth us escape?
+ 'Tis thou, O Lord, alone!
+ Our bitter suffering and our sin
+ Pity from thy mercy win,
+ Holy Lord and God!
+ Strong and holy God!
+ Merciful and holy Saviour!
+ Eternal God!
+ Let us not despair
+ For the fire that burneth there!
+ Kyrie, eleison!"
+
+Jacqueline met Elsie on her way to the fields. But the girls had
+not much to say to each other that morning in their walk. Elsie was
+manifestly conscious of some great constraint; she might have reported
+to her friend what she had heard in the streets last night, but she
+felt herself prevented from such communication,--seemed to be intent
+principally on one thing: she would not commit herself in any direction.
+She was looking with suspicion upon Jacqueline. Whatever became of her
+soul, her body she would save alive. She was waking to this world's
+enjoyment with vision alert, senses keen. Martyrdom in any degree was
+without attraction to her, and in Truth she saw no beauty that she
+should desire it. It was a root out of dry ground indeed, that gave no
+promise of spreading into goodly shelter and entrancing beauty.
+
+As to Jacqueline, she was absorbed in her heroic and exalted thoughts.
+Her heart had almost failed her when she said farewell to John's mother;
+tearfully she had hurried on her way. One vast cloud hung between her
+and heaven; darkly rolled the river; every face seemed to bear witness
+to the tragedy that day should witness.
+
+Not the least of her affliction was the consciousness of the distance
+increasing between herself and Elsie Méril. She knew that Elsie was
+rejoicing that she had in no way endangered herself yet; and sure was
+she that in no way would Elsie invite the fury of avenging tyranny and
+reckless superstition.
+
+Jacqueline asked her no questions,--spoke few words to her,--was
+absorbed in her own thoughts. But she was kindly in her manner, and
+in such words as she spoke. So Elsie perceived two things,--that she
+should not lose her friend, neither was in danger of being seized by the
+heretical mania. It was her way of drawing inferences. Certain that
+she had not lost her friend, because Jacqueline did not look away, and
+refuse to recognize her; congratulating herself that she was not the
+object of suspicion, either justly or unjustly, among the dreadful
+priests.
+
+But that friend whose steady eye had balanced Elsie was already sick at
+heart, for she knew that never more must she rely upon this girl who
+came with her from Domrémy.
+
+As they crossed the bridge, lingering thereon a moment, the river seemed
+to moan in its flowing toward Meaux. The day's light was sombre; the
+birds' songs had no joyous sound,--plaintive was their chirping; it
+saddened the heart to hear the wind,--it was a wind that seemed to take
+the buoyancy and freshness out of every living thing, an ugly southeast
+wind. They went on together,--to the wheat-fields together;--it was to
+be day of minutes to poor Jacqueline.
+
+To be away from Meaux bodily was, it appeared, only that the imagination
+might have freer exercise. Yes,--now the people must be moving through
+the streets; shopmen were not so intent on profits this day as they were
+on other days. The priests were thinking with vengeful hate of the wrong
+to themselves which should be met and conquered that day. The people
+should be swiftly brought into order again! John in his prison was
+preparing, as all without the prison were.
+
+The crowd was gathering fast. He would soon be led forth. The shameful
+march was forming. Now the brutal hand of Power was lifted with
+scourges. The bravest man in Meaux was driven through the streets,--she
+saw with what a visage,--she knew with what a heart. Her heart was awed
+with thinking thereupon. A bloody mist seemed to fall upon the environs
+of Meaux; through that red horror she could not penetrate; it shrouded
+and it held poor Jacqueline.
+
+Of the faith that would sustain him she began once more to inquire. It
+is not by a bound that mortals ever clear the heights of God. Step by
+step they scale the eminences, toiling through the heavenly atmosphere.
+Only around the summit shines the eternal sun.
+
+So she must now recall the words that Victor Le Roy read for her last
+night; and the words he spoke from out his heart,--these also. And
+she did not fear now, as yesterday, to ask for light. Let the light
+dawn,--oh, let it shine on her!
+
+The mother of Leclerc had uttered mysterious words which Jacqueline took
+for truth; the light was joyful and blessed, and of all things to be
+desired, though it smote the life from one like lightning. She waited
+alone with faith, watching till it should come,--left alone with this
+beam glimmering like a moth through darkness!--for thus was a believer,
+or one who resolved on believing, left in that day, when he turned from
+the machinery of the Church, and stood alone, searching for God without
+the aid of priestly intervention.
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+There was something awful in such loneliness.
+
+Jacqueline knew little of it until now, as she walked toward the fields,
+by the side of Elsie Méril.
+
+She saw how she had depended on the priest of Domrémy, as he had been
+the lawgiver and the leader of her life. A spiritual life, to be
+sustained only by the invisible spirit, to be lived by faith, not in
+man, but in God, without intervention of saint or angel or Blessed
+Virgin,--was the world's life liberated by such freedom?
+
+By faith, and not by sight, the just must live. Would He bow his heavens
+and come down to dwell with the contrite and the humble?
+
+Wondrous strange it seemed,--incomprehensible,--more than she could
+manage or control. There are prisoners whose pardon proves the world too
+large for them: they find no rest until their prison-door is opened for
+them again.
+
+Of this class was Elsie,--not Jacqueline. Elsie was afraid of
+freedom,--not equal to it,--unable to deal with it; satisfied with being
+a child, with being a slave, when it came to be a question whether she
+should accept and use her highest privilege and dignity. At this hour,
+and among all persuasions, you will find that Elsie does not stand
+alone. Little children there are, long as the world shall stand,--though
+not precisely such as we think of when we remember, "Of such is the
+kingdom of heaven."
+
+It was enough for Elsie--it is enough for multitudes through all the
+reformations--that she had an earthly defence, even such as she relied
+on without trouble. She lived in the hour. She had never toiled to
+deliver her darling from the lions,--to redeem a soul from purgatory.
+She eased her conscience, when it was troubled, by such shallow
+discovery of herself as she deemed confession. She loved dancing,
+and all other amusements,--hated solitude, knew not the meaning of
+self-abnegation. And let her dance and enjoy herself!--some service
+to the body is rendered thereby. She might do greatly worse, and
+is incapable of doing greatly better. Will you stint the idiots of
+comfort,--or rather build them decent habitations, and even vex yourself
+to feed and clothe them, in reverent confidence that the Future shall
+surely take them up and bless them, unstop their ears, open their eyes,
+give speech to them and absolute deliverance?
+
+There are others beside Elsie who congratulate themselves on
+non-committal,--they covet not the advanced and dangerous positions.
+Honorable, but dangerous positions! The head might be taken off, do you
+not see? And could all eternity compensate for the loss of time? Ah, the
+body might be mutilated,--the liberty restrained: as if, indeed, a
+man's freedom were not eternally established, when his enemies, howling
+around, must at least crucify him! as if a divine voice were not ever
+heard through the raging of the people, saying, "Come up higher!"
+
+But a fern-leaf cannot grow into a mighty hemlock-tree. From the ashes
+of a sparrow the phoenix shall not rise. You will not to all eternity,
+by any artificial means, nor by a miracle, bring forth an eagle from a
+mollusk.
+
+There was not a sadder heart in all those fields of Meaux than the heart
+of Jacqueline Gabrie. There was not a stronger heart. Not a hand
+labored more diligently. Under the broad-brimmed peasant-hat was a sad
+countenance,--under the peasant-dress a heavily burdened spirit. Silent,
+all day, she labored. She was alone at noon under the river-bordered
+trees, eating her coarse fare without zest, but with a conscience,--to
+sustain the body that was born to toil. But in the maelström of doubt
+and anxiety was she tossed and whirled, and she cared not for her life.
+To be rid of it, now for the first time, she felt might be a blessing.
+What purpose, indeed, had she? She turned her thought from this
+question, but it would not let her alone. Again and yet again she turned
+to meet it, and thus would surely have at length its satisfying answer.
+
+John Leclerc might pass through this ordeal, as from the first she
+had expected of him. But she listened to the speech of many of her
+fellow-laborers. Some prophecies which had a sound incredible escaped
+them. She did not credit them, but they tormented her. They contended
+with one another. John, some foretold, would certainly retract. One day
+of public whipping would suffice. When the blood began to flow, he would
+see his duty clearer! The men were prophesying from the depths and the
+abundance of their self-consciousness. Others speculated on the final
+result of the executed sentence. They believed that the "obstinacy" and
+courage of the man would provoke his judges, and the executors of his
+sentence,--that with rigor they would execute it,--and that, led on
+by passion, and provoked by such as would side with the victim, the
+sentence would terminate in his destruction. Sooner or later, nothing
+but his life would be found ultimately to satisfy his enemies.
+
+It might be so, thought Jacqueline Gabrie. What then? what then?--she
+thought. There was inspiration to the girl in that cruel prophecy. Her
+lifework was not ended. If Christ was the One Ransom, and it did truly
+fall on Him, and not on her, to care for those beloved, departed from
+this life, her work was still for love.
+
+John Leclerc disabled or dead, who should care then for his aged mother?
+Who should minister to him? Who, indeed, but Jacqueline?
+
+Living or dying, she said to herself, with grand enthusiasm,--living or
+dying, let him do the Master's pleasure! She also was here to serve that
+Master; and while in spiritual things he fed the hungry, clothed the
+naked, gave the cup of living water, visited the imprisoned, and the
+sick of sin, she would bind herself to minister to him and his old
+mother in temporal things; so should he live above all cares save those
+of heavenly love. She could support them all by her diligence, and in
+this there would be joy.
+
+She thought this through her toil; and the thought was its own reward.
+It strengthened her like an angel,--strengthened heart and faith. She
+labored as no other peasant-woman did that day,--like a beast of burden,
+unresisting, patient,--like a holy saint, so peaceful and assured, so
+conscious of the present very God!
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+MIDSUMMER.
+
+
+ Around this lovely valley rise
+ The purple hills of Paradise.
+ Oh, softly on yon banks of haze
+ Her rosy face the Summer lays!
+ Becalmed along the azure sky,
+ The argosies of cloudland lie,
+ Whose shores, with many a shining rift,
+ Far off their pearl-white peaks uplift.
+
+ Through all the long midsummer-day
+ The meadow-sides are sweet with hay.
+ I seek the coolest sheltered seat
+ Just where the field and forest meet,--
+ Where grow the pine-trees tall and bland,
+ The ancient oaks austere and grand,
+ And fringy roots and pebbles fret
+ The ripples of the rivulet.
+
+ I watch, the mowers as they go
+ Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved row;
+ With even stroke their scythes they swing,
+ In tune their merry whetstones ring;
+ Behind the nimble youngsters run
+ And toss the thick swaths in the sun;
+ The cattle graze; while, warm and still,
+ Slopes the broad pasture, basks the hill,
+ And bright, when summer breezes break,
+ The green wheat crinkles like a lake.
+
+ The butterfly and humble-bee
+ Come to the pleasant woods with me;
+ Quickly before me runs the quail,
+ The chickens skulk behind the rail,
+ High up the lone wood-pigeon sits,
+ And the woodpecker pecks and flits.
+ Sweet woodland music sinks and swells,
+ The brooklet rings its tinkling bells,
+ The swarming insects drone and hum,
+ The partridge beats his throbbing drum.
+ The squirrel leaps among the boughs,
+ And chatters in his leafy house.
+ The oriole flashes by; and, look!
+ Into the mirror of the brook,
+ Where the vain blue-bird trims his coat,
+ Two tiny feathers fall and float.
+
+ As silently, as tenderly,
+ The down of peace descends on me.
+ Oh, this is peace! I have no need
+ Of friend to talk, of book to read:
+ A dear Companion here abides;
+ Close to my thrilling heart He hides;
+ The holy silence is His Voice:
+ I lie and listen, and rejoice.
+
+
+
+
+TOBACCO.
+
+
+"Tobacco, divine, rare, superexcellent tobacco, which goes far beyond all
+the panaceas, potable gold, and philosopher's stones, a sovereign remedy
+to all diseases! a good vomit, I confess, a virtuous herb, if it be well
+qualified, opportunely taken, and medicinally used. But as it is commonly
+abused by most men, which take it as tinkers do ale, 'tis a plague, a
+mischief, a violent purger of goods, lauds, health: hellish, devilish, and
+damned tobacco, the ruin and overthrow of body and soul!"--BURTON. _Anatomy
+of Melancholy_.
+
+A delicate subject? Very true; and one which must be handled as tenderly
+as _biscuit de Sèvres_, or Venetian glass. Whichever side of the
+question we may assume, as the most popular, or the most right, the
+feelings of so large and respectable a minority are to be consulted,
+that it behooves the critic or reviewer to move cautiously, and,
+imitating the actions of a certain feline household reformer, to show
+only the _patte de velours_.
+
+The omniscient Burton seems to have reached the pith of the matter. The
+two hostile sections of his proposition, though written so long since,
+would very well fit the smoker and the reformer of to-day. That portion
+of the world which is enough advanced to advocate reforms is entirely
+divided against itself on the subject of Tobacco. Immense interests,
+economical, social, and, as some conceive, moral, are arrayed on either
+side. The reformers have hitherto had the better of it in point of
+argument, and have pushed the attack with most vigor, yet with but
+trifling results. Smokers and chewers, _et id omne genus_, mollified
+by their habits, or laboring under guilty consciences, have made but a
+feeble defence. Nor in all this is there anything new. It is as old as
+the knowledge of the "weed" among thinking men,--in other words, about
+three centuries. The English adventurers under Drake and Raleigh and
+Hawkins, and the multitude of minor Protestant "filibusters" who
+followed in their train, had no sooner imported the habit of smoking
+tobacco, among the other outlandish customs which they brought home from
+the new Indies and the Spanish Main, than the higher powers rebuked
+the practice, which novelty and its own fascinations were rendering so
+fashionable, in language more forcible than elegant. The philippic of
+King James is so apposite that we may be pardoned for transcribing one
+oft-quoted sentence:--"But herein is not only a great vanity, but a
+great contempt of God's good gifts, that the sweetness of man's breath,
+being a good gift of God, should be wilfully corrupted by this stinking
+smoke.... A custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmfull
+to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume
+thereof neerest resembling the horrible Stygian smoake of the pit that
+is bottomless."[a]
+
+[Footnote a: _Counterblast to Tobacco_.]
+
+The Popes Urban VIII. and Innocent XII. fulminated edicts of
+excommunication against all who used tobacco in any form; from which we
+may conclude that the new habit was spreading rapidly over Christendom.
+And not only the successors of St. Peter, but those also of the Prophet,
+denounced the practice, the Sultan Amurath IV. making it punishable with
+death. The Viziers of Turkey spitted the noses of smokers with their own
+pipes; the more considerate Shah of Persia cut them entirely off. The
+knout greeted in Russia the first indulgence, and death followed the
+second offence. In some of the Swiss cantons smoking was considered a
+crime second only to adultery. Modern republics are not quite so severe.
+
+It is not to be supposed that in England the royal pamphlet had its
+desired effect. For we find that James laid many rigid sumptuary
+restrictions upon the practice which he abominated, based chiefly upon
+the extravagance it occasioned,--the expenses of some smokers being
+estimated at several hundred pounds a year. The King, however, had the
+sagacity to secure a preëmption-right as early as 1620.
+
+Yet how could the practice but have increased, when, as Malcolm relates
+the tradition, such men as Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Hugh Middleton
+sat smoking at their doors?--for "the public manner in which it was
+exhibited, and the aromatic flavor inhaled by the passengers, exclusive
+of the singularity of the circumstance and the eminence of the parties,"
+could hardly have failed to favor its dissemination.
+
+The silver-tongued Joshua Sylvester hoped to aid the royal cause by
+writing a poem entitled, "Tobacco battered, and the pipes shattered,
+(about their ears who idly idolize so base and barbarous a weed, or at
+least-wise overlove so loathsome a vanity,) by a volley of holy shot
+thundered from Mount Helicon." If the smoothness of the verses equalled
+the euphony of the title, this must have proved a moving appeal.
+
+Stow contents himself with calling tobacco "a stinking weed, so much
+abused to God's dishonor."
+
+Burton exhausts the subject in a single paragraph. Ben Jonson, though
+a jolly good fellow, was opposed to the habit of smoking. But Spenser
+mentions "divine tobacco." Walton's "Piscator" indulges in a pipe at
+breakfast, and "Venator" has his tobacco brought from London to insure
+its purity. Sweet Izaak could have selected no more soothing minister
+than the pipe to the "contemplative man's recreation."
+
+As the new sedative gains in esteem, we find Francis Quarles, in his
+"Emblems," treating it in this serio-comic vein:--
+
+ "Flint-hearted Stoics, you whose marble eyes
+ Contemn a wrinkle, and whose souls despise
+ To follow Nature's too affected fashion,
+ Or travel in the regent walk of passion,--
+ Whose rigid hearts disdain to shrink at
+ fears,
+ Or play at fast-and-loose with smiles and
+ tears,--
+ Come, burst your spleens with laughter to
+ behold
+ A new-found vanity, which days of old
+ Ne'er knew,--a vanity that has beset
+ The world, and made more slaves than Mahomet,--
+ That has condemned us to the servile yoke
+ Of slavery, and made us slaves to smoke,
+ But stay! why tax I thus our modern
+ times
+ For new-born follies and for new-born
+ crimes?
+ Are we sole guilty, and the first age free?
+ No: they were smoked and slaved as well
+ as we.
+ What's sweet-lipped honor's blast, but
+ smoke? what's treasure,
+ But very smoke? and what's more smoke
+ than pleasure?"
+
+Brand gives us the whole matter in a nutshell, in the following quaint
+epigram, entitled "A Tobacconist," taken from an old collection:--
+
+ "All dainty meats I do defy
+ Which feed men fat as swine;
+ He is a frugal man, indeed,
+ That on a leaf can dine.
+
+ "He needs no napkin for his hands
+ His fingers' ends to wipe,
+ That keeps his kitchen in a box,
+ And roast meat in a pipe."
+
+And so on, the singers of succeeding years, _usque ad nauseam_,--a
+loathing equalled only by that of the earlier writers for the plant, now
+so lauded.
+
+Tobacco-worship seems to us to culminate in the following stanza from a
+German song:--
+
+ "Tabak ist mein Leben,
+ Dem hab' ich mich ergeben, ergeben;
+ Tabak ist meine Lust.
+ Und eh' ich ihn sollt' lassen,
+ Viel lieber wollt' ich hassen,
+ Ja, hassen selbst eines Mädchens Kuss."
+
+As it is with your sex, my dear Madam, that this question of Tobacco is
+to be mainly argued,--for, to your honor be it spoken, you have always
+been of the reformatory party,--let us hope, that, provided you have
+not read or translated the last verse, you have recovered your natural
+amiability, ruffled perhaps by this odious subject, and are prepared
+to believe us when we tell you that these opposite opinions cannot be
+wholly reconciled, and to follow us patiently while we attempt to show
+that a certain gentleman, introduced to your maternal ancestor at a very
+remote period of the world's history, is not so black as he is sometimes
+painted. Let us keep good-natured, at least, in this discussion; for we
+propose to settle it without taking off the gloves, as we intimated in
+the opening paragraph. Your patience will be much needed for the sad
+army of facts and figures which is to follow. Therefore it is but just
+that you should speak now, after these long sentences.
+
+Your George will never smoke? Excuse me. _When_ he will smoke depends
+upon the precocity of his individual generation; and that increases in
+a direct ratio with time itself, in this country. Thus, to state the
+matter in an approximate inverse arithmetical progression, and dating
+the birth of "young America" about the year 1825,--previously to which
+reigned the dark ages of oldfogydom, so called,--we find as follows:
+--From 1825 to 1835, young gentlemen learned to smoke when from 25 to 20
+years of age; from 1835 to 1845, young _gents_, ditto, ditto, from 20 to
+15 years; 1845 to 1855, from 15 to 10; 1855 to 1865, 10 to 5; 1865 to
+1875, 5 to 0; and, if we continue, 1875 to 1885, zero to minus: but
+really the question is becoming too nebulous. _Corollary_. In about ten
+years, the youth of the United States will smoke contemporaneously with
+the infant Burmese, who, we are credibly informed, begin the habit
+_aet_. 3, or as soon as they have cut enough teeth to hold a cigar.
+
+Therefore, we will say, Madam, at some indefinite period of his
+childhood or youth,--for we would not be so impolite as to infer your
+age by asking that of your son,--the _susdit_ George will come home
+late from play some afternoon, languid, pale, and disinclined for tea.
+He will indignantly repel the accusation of feeling ill, and there will
+lurk about his person an indescribable odor of stale cinnamon, which
+you will be at a loss to account for, but which his elder brother will
+recognize as the natural result of smoking "cinnamon cigars," wherewith
+certain wicked tobacconists of this city tempt curious youth. If you
+follow him to his chamber, you will probably discover more damning
+evidence of his guilt.
+
+We will draw the curtain over the scene of the Spartan mother--we hope
+you belong to that nearly extinct class--which is to follow. Let us
+suppose all differences settled, the habit ostensibly given up, and your
+darling, grown more honest or more artful,--the result is the same to
+your blissful ignorance,--studiously pursuing his way until he enters
+college. Some fine day you drive over to the neighboring university,
+and, entering his room unannounced, you find him coloring his first
+(factitious) meerschaum!--also a sad deficiency in his wardrobe of
+half-worn clothes. _C'est une pipe qui coûte cher à culotter_, the
+college meerschaum,--and in more ways than one, according to the
+"Autocrat":--"I do not advise you, young man, to consecrate the flower
+of your life to painting the bowl of a pipe," _et seq_. More bold,
+the Sophomore will smoke openly at home; and by the end of the third
+vacation, it is one of those unyielding _faits accomplis_ against which
+reformers, household or peripatetic, beat their heads in vain.
+
+Perhaps your husband smokes? If so, at what period of the twenty-four
+hours have you invariably found Mr. ---- most lenient to your little
+pecuniary peccadilloes? Is he not always most good-natured when his
+cigar is about one-third consumed, the ash evenly burnt and adherent,
+and not fallen into his shirt-bosom? Depend upon it, tobacco is a great
+soother of domestic differences.
+
+Let us, then, look an existing, firmly rooted evil--if you will call it
+so--in the face, and see if it is quite so bad as it is represented. It
+is too wide-spread to be sneered away,--for we might almost say that
+smokers were the rule, and non-smokers the exception, among all
+civilized men, Charles Kingsley supports us here:--"'Man a cooking
+animal,' my dear Doctor Johnson? Pooh! man is a _smoking_ animal.
+There is his _ergon_, his 'differential energy,' as the Aristotelians
+say,--his true distinction from the orangoutang. Ponder it well."
+
+_Query_.--What did the old Roman do without a cigar? How idle through
+the day? How survive his interminable _post-coenal_ potations?--The
+thought is not our own. It occurs somewhere in De Quincey, we believe.
+It is one of those self-evident propositions you wonder had not occurred
+to you before.--What an accessory of luxury the pipe would have been
+to him who passed the livelong day under the mosaic arches of the
+_Thermoe_! The _strigiles_ would have vanished before the meerschaum,
+had that magic clay then been known. How completely would the _hookah_
+and the _narghileh_ have harmonized with the _crater, cyathi_, and
+tripods of the _triclinium_ in that portraiture of the "Decadence of
+Rome" which hangs in the Luxembourg Gallery! Poor fellows! they managed
+to exist without them.
+
+Though pipes are found carved on very old sculptures in China, and the
+habit of smoking was long since extensively followed there, according
+to Pallas, and although certain species of the tobacco-plant, as the
+_Nicotiana rustica_, would appear to be indigenous to the country, yet
+we have the best reason to conclude that America, if not the exclusive
+home of the herb, was the birthplace of its use by man. The first great
+explorer of the West found the sensuous natives of Hispaniola rolling up
+and smoking tobacco-leaves with the same persistent indolence that
+we recognize in the Cuban of the present day. Rough Cortés saw with
+surprise the luxurious Aztec composing himself for the _siesta_ in the
+middle of the day as invariably as his fellow Dons in Castile. But he
+was amazed that the barbarians had discovered in tobacco a sedative
+to promote their reveries and compose them to sleep, of which the
+_hidalgos_ were as yet ignorant, but which they were soon to appropriate
+with avidity, and to use with equal zest. Humboldt says that it had been
+cultivated by the people of Orinoco from time immemorial, and was smoked
+all over America at the time of the Spanish Conquest,--also that it was
+first discovered by Europeans in Yucatan, in 1520, and was there called
+_Petum_. Tobacco, according to the same authority, was taken from the
+word _tabac_, the name of an instrument used in the preparation of the
+herb.
+
+Though Columbus and his immediate followers doubtless brought home
+specimens of tobacco among the other spoils of the New World, Jean
+Nicot, ambassador to Portugal from Francis II., first sent the seeds
+to France, where they were cultivated and used about the year 1560. In
+honor of its sponsor, Botany has named the plant _Nicotiana tabacum_,
+and Chemistry distinguished as _Nicotin_ its active alkaloid. Sir
+Francis Drake first brought tobacco to England about 1586. It owed
+the greater part of its early popularity, however, to the praise and
+practice of Raleigh: his high standing and character would have sufficed
+to introduce still more novel customs. The weed once inhaled, the habit
+once acquired, its seductions would not allow it to be easily laid
+aside; and we accordingly find that royal satire, public odium, and
+ruinous cost were alike inadequate to restrain its rapidly increasing
+consumption. Somewhere about the year 1600 or 1601 tobacco was carried
+to the East, and introduced among the Turks and Persians,--it is not
+known by whom: the devotion of modern Mussulmans might reasonably
+ascribe it to Allah himself. It seems almost incredible that the
+Oriental type of life and character could have existed without tobacco.
+The pipe seems as inseparable as the Koran from the follower of Mahomet.
+
+Barely three centuries ago, then, the first seeds of the _Nicotiana
+tabacum_ germinated in European soil: now, who shall count the harvests?
+Less than three centuries ago, Raleigh attracted a crowd by sitting
+smoking at his door: now, the humblest bog-trotter of Ireland must
+be poor indeed who cannot own or borrow a pipe. A little more than a
+century and a half ago, the import into Great Britain was only one
+hundred and twenty thousand pounds, and part of that was reëxported:
+now, the imports reach thirty million pounds, and furnish to government
+a revenue of twenty millions of dollars,--being an annual tax of three
+shillings four pence on every soul in the United Kingdom. Nor is the
+case of England an exceptional one. The tobacco-zone girdles the globe.
+From the equator, through fifty degrees of latitude, it grows and is
+consumed on every continent. On every sea it is carried and used by the
+mariners of every nation. Its incense rises in every clime, as from one
+vast altar dedicated to its worship,--before which ancient holocausts,
+the smoke of burnt-offerings in the old Jewish rites, the censers of the
+Church, and the joss-sticks of the East, must "pale their ineffectual
+fires." All classes, all ages, in all climates, and in some countries
+both sexes, use tobacco to dispel heat, to resist cold, to soothe
+to reverie, or to arouse the brain, according to their national
+habitations, peculiarities, or habits.
+
+This is not the language of hyperbole. With a partial exception in favor
+of the hop, tobacco is the _sole recognized narcotic_ of civilization.
+Opium and hemp, if indulged in, are concealed, by the Western nations:
+public opinion, public morality, are at war with them. Not so with
+tobacco, which the majority of civilized men use, and the minority
+rather deprecate than denounce. We shall avail ourselves of some
+statistics and computations, which we find ready-calculated, at various
+sources, to support these assertions. The following are the amounts of
+tobacco consumed _per head_ in various countries:--
+
+"In Great Britain, 17 ounces per head; in France, 18 1/2
+ounces,--three-eighths of this quantity being used in the form of snuff;
+in Denmark, 70 ounces (4 1/2 lbs.) per head; and in Belgium, 73 1/2
+ounces per head;--in New South Wales, where there are no duties, by
+official returns, 14 pounds per head." We doubt if these quantities
+much exceed the European average, particularly of Germany and Turkey in
+Europe. "In some of the States of North America the proportion is much
+larger, while among Eastern nations, where there are no duties, it is
+believed to be greater still."
+
+The average for the whole human race of one thousand millions has been
+reasonably set at seventy ounces per head; which gives a total produce
+and consumption of tobacco of two millions of tons, or 4,480,000,000 of
+pounds! "At eight hundred pounds an acre, this would require five and
+a half million acres of rich land to be kept constantly under
+tobacco-cultivation."
+
+"The whole amount of wheat consumed by the inhabitants of Great Britain
+weighs only four and one-third million tons." The reader can draw his
+own inferences.
+
+The United States are among the largest producers of tobacco, furnishing
+one-twentieth of the estimated production of the whole world. According
+to the last census, we raised in 1850 about two hundred million pounds.
+All the States, with five exceptions,--and two of these are Utah and
+Minnesota,--shared, in various degrees, in the growth of this great
+staple. Confining our attention to those which raised a million of
+pounds and upwards, we find Connecticut and Indiana cited at one million
+each; Ohio and North Carolina, at ten to twelve millions; Missouri,
+Tennessee, and Maryland, from seventeen to twenty-one millions; Kentucky
+and Virginia, about fifty-six million pounds.
+
+Of this gross two hundred million pounds, we export one hundred and
+twenty-two millions, leaving about seventy-eight millions for home
+consumption.
+
+Not satisfied with the quality of this modest amount, we import also,
+from Cuba, Turkey, Germany, etc., about four million pounds, in Havana
+and Manila cigars and Turkish and German manufactured smoking-tobacco.
+Thus we increase the total of our consumption to eighty-two million
+pounds, which gives about three pounds eight ounces to every inhabitant
+of the United States, against seventeen ounces in England, and eighteen
+ounces in France. From 1840 to 1850, the consumption in the United
+States, per head, increased from two pounds and half an ounce to three
+pounds eight ounces. Here, we buy our tobacco at a fair profit to the
+producer. In most of the countries of Europe it is either subject to
+a high tax, or made a government monopoly, both as regards its
+cultivation, and its manufacture and sale. France consumes about
+forty-one million pounds, and the imperial exchequer is thereby enriched
+eighty-six million francs _per annum_. Not only is the poor man thus
+obliged to pay an excessive price, but the tobacco furnished him is of
+a much inferior quality to ours. "_Petit-caporal_" smoking-tobacco, the
+delight of the middling classes of Paris, hardly suits an American's
+taste. In Italy more than one _pubblicano_ has enriched himself and
+bought nobility by farming the public revenues from tobacco and salt. In
+Austria the cigars are detestable, though Hungary grows good tobacco,
+and its Turkish border furnishes some of the meerschaum clay. German
+smoking-tobaccoes are favorites with students here, but owe their
+excellence to their mode of manufacture.
+
+Tobacco, according to some authorities, holds the next place to salt,
+as the article most universally and largely used by man,--we mean,
+of course, apart from cereals and meats. It is unquestionably the
+widest-used narcotic. Opium takes the second rank, and hemp the third;
+but the opium--and hashish-eaters usually add the free smoking of
+tobacco to their other indulgences.
+
+From these great columns of consumption we may logically deduce two
+prime points for our argument.
+
+1st. That an article so widely used must possess some peculiar quality
+producing _a desirable effect_.
+
+2d. That an article so widely used cannot produce _any marked
+deleterious effect_.
+
+For it must meet some instinctive craving of the human being,--as bread
+and salt meet his absolute needs,--to be so widely sought after and
+consumed. Fashion does not rule this habit, but it is equally grateful
+to the savage and the sage. And it cannot be so ruinous to body and mind
+as some reformers assert; otherwise, in the natural progress of causes
+and effects, whole nations must have already been extinguished under
+its use. Many mighty nations have used it for centuries, and show no
+aggregated deterioration from its employment. Individual exceptions
+exist in every community. They arise either from idiosyncrasy or from
+excess, and they have no weight in the argument.
+
+Now, what are these qualities and these effects? We can best answer the
+first part of the question by a quotation.
+
+"In ministering fully to his natural wants and cravings, man passes
+through three successive stages.
+
+"First, the necessities of his material nature are provided for. Beef
+and bread represent the means by which, in every country, this end is
+attained. And among the numerous forms of animal and vegetable food a
+wonderful similarity of chemical composition prevails.
+
+"Second, he seeks to assuage the cares of his mind, and to banish
+uneasy reflections. Fermented liquors are the agents by which this is
+effected." [They are variously produced by every people, and the active
+principle is in all the same, namely, Alcohol.]
+
+"Third, he desires to multiply his enjoyments, intellectual and animal,
+and for the time to exalt them. This he attains by the aid of narcotics.
+And of these narcotics, again, it is remarkable that almost every
+country or tribe has its own, either aboriginal or imported; so that
+the universal instinct of the race has led, somehow or other, to the
+universal supply of this want or craving also."
+
+These narcotics are Opium, Hemp, the Betel, Coca, Thorn-Apple, Siberian
+Fungus, Hops, Lettuce, Tobacco. The active principles vary in each, thus
+differing from foods and stimulants. Our business is now to inquire into
+the chemical constituents of tobacco.
+
+The leaves of this plant owe their properties to certain invariable
+active principles, which chemistry has enabled us to separate from those
+ingredients which are either inert or common to it and other forms of
+vegetation. They are two in number,--a volatile alkali, and a volatile
+oil, called _nicotin_ and _nicotianin_, respectively. A third powerful
+constituent is developed by combustion, which is named the _empyreumatic
+oil_.
+
+Starch, gum, albumen, resin, lignin, extractive, and organic acids exist
+in tobacco, as they do, in varying proportions, in other plants. But
+the herb under consideration contains a relatively larger proportion of
+inorganic salts, as those of lime, potassa, and ammonia,--and especially
+of highly nitrogenized substances; which explains why tobacco is
+so exhausting a crop to the soil, and why ashes are among its best
+fertilizers.
+
+The organic base, _nicotin_, (or _nicotia_, as some chemists prefer to
+call it,) exists in tobacco combined with an acid in excess, and in this
+state is not volatile. As obtained by distillation with caustic soda,
+and afterwards treated with sulphuric acid, etc., it is a colorless
+fluid, volatilizable, inflammable, of little smell when cold, but of an
+exceedingly acrid, burning taste, and alkaline. Nicotia contains a much
+larger proportion of nitrogen than most of the other organic alkalies.
+In its action on the animal system it is one of the most virulent
+poisons known. It exists in varying, though small proportion, in all
+species of tobacco. Those called mild, and most esteemed, seem to
+contain the least. Thus, according to Orfila, Havana tobacco yields two
+per cent of the alkaloid, and Virginia nearly seven per cent. In the
+rankest varieties it rarely exceeds eight parts to the hundred. The
+same toxicologist says that it has the remarkable property of resisting
+decomposition in the decaying tissues of the body, and he detected it in
+the bodies of animals destroyed by it, several months after their death.
+In this particular it resembles arsenic.
+
+_Nicotianin_, or the volatile oil, is probably the odorous principle of
+tobacco. According to some, it does not exist in the fresh leaves, but
+is generated in the drying process. When obtained by distillation, a
+pound of leaves will yield only two grains; it is therefore in a much
+smaller proportion than the alkaloid, forming only one half of one per
+cent. It is a fatty substance, having the odor of tobacco-smoke, and
+a bitter taste. Applied to the nose, it occasions sneezing, and taken
+internally, giddiness and nausea. It is therefore one of the active
+constituents of tobacco, though to a much less degree than nicotin
+itself. For while Hermstadt swallowed a grain of nicotianin with
+impunity, the vapor of pure nicotin is so irritating that it is
+difficult to breathe in a room in which a single drop has been
+evaporated.
+
+When distilled in a retort, at a temperature above that of boiling
+water, or burned, as we burn it in a pipe, tobacco affords its third
+poison, the _empyreumatic oil_. This is acrid, of a dark brown
+color, and having a smell as of an old pipe, in the pores of which,
+particularly of meerschaum clay, it may be found. It is also narcotic
+and very poisonous, one drop killing reptiles, as if by an electric
+shock: in this mode of action it is like prussic acid. But this
+empyreumatic oil consists of two substances; for, if it be washed with
+acetic acid, it loses its poisonous quality. It contains, therefore, a
+harmless oil, and a poisonous alkaline substance, which the acetic acid
+combines with and removes. It has been shown to contain the alkaloid
+nicotia, and this is probably its only active component.
+
+Assuming, therefore, that nicotianin, from its feebler action and small
+amount, is not a very efficient principle in producing the narcotic
+effects of tobacco, and that the empyreumatic oil consists only of fatty
+matters holding the alkali in solution, we are forced to believe that
+the only constituent worthy of much attention, as the very soul and
+essence of the plant, is the organic base, nicotin, or nicotia.
+
+It is probable that the tobacco-chewer, by putting fifty grains of the
+"Solace," "Honey-Dew," or "Cavendish" into his mouth for the purpose
+of mastication, introduces at the same time from one to four grains of
+nicotin with it, according to the quality of the tobacco he uses. It
+is _not_ probable that anything like this amount is absorbed into the
+system. Nature protects itself by salivation. It is possible, that, in
+smoking one hundred grains of tobacco, there _may_ be drawn into
+the mouth two grains or more of the same poison; "for, as nicotin
+volatilizes at a temperature below that of burning tobacco, it is
+constantly present in the smoke." It is not probable that here, again,
+so much is absorbed.
+
+But we will return to this question of the relative effects of chewing,
+cigar- and pipe-smoking, and snuff-taking, presently. For we suppose
+that the anxious mother, if she has followed us so far, is by this time
+in considerable alarm at this wholesale poisoning.
+
+Poisons are to be judged by their effects; for this is the only means we
+have of knowing them to be such. And if a poison is in common use, we
+must embrace all the results of such use in a perfect generalization
+before we can decide impartially. We do not hesitate to eat peaches,
+though we know they owe much of their peculiar flavor to prussic acid.
+It is but fair to apply an equally large generalization to tobacco.
+Chemistry can concentrate the sapid and odorous elements of the peach
+and the bitter almond into a transparent fluid, of which the smell
+shall be vertiginous and the taste death. But chemistry is often
+misunderstood, in two ways: in the one case, by the incredulity of total
+ignorance; in the other, by the overcredulity of imperfect knowledge.
+That poor woman who murdered her husband by arsenic not long since
+was an instance of the first. She laughed to scorn the idea that the
+chemists could discover anything in the ejected contents of the stomach
+of her victim, which she voluntarily left in their way. She could not
+conceive that the scattered crystals of the fatal powder might be
+gathered into a metallic mirror, the first glance at which would reflect
+her guilt.
+
+They who gape, horror-struck, at the endless revelations of chemistry,
+without giving reason time to act, err in the second manner. Led away by
+the brilliant hues and wonderful transformations of the laboratory,
+they forget the size of the world outside, in which these changes are
+enacted, and the quiet way in which Nature works. The breath of chlorine
+is deadly, but we daily eat it in safety, wrapped in its poison-proof
+envelope of sodium, as common salt. Carbonic acid is among the gases
+most hostile to man, but he drinks it in soda-water or Champagne with
+impunity. So we cannot explain how a poison will act, if introduced
+into the body in the diluted form in which Nature offers it, and there
+subjected to the complicated chemico-vital processes which constitute
+life.
+
+In the alembic of the chemist we may learn analysis, and from it infer,
+but not imitate, save in a few instances, the synthesis of Nature.
+Changes in the arrangement of atoms, without one particle altered that
+we can discover, may make all the difference between starch and sugar.
+By an obscure change, which we call fermentation, these may become
+alcohol, the great stimulant of the world. By subtracting one atom of
+water from its elements we change this to ether, the new-found _lethe_
+of pain. As from the inexhaustible bottle of the magician, the chemist
+can furnish us from the same two elements air or aquafortis. We may be
+pardoned these familiar examples to prove that we must not judge of
+things by their palpable qualities, when concentrated or in the gross.
+That fiery demon, nitric acid, is hid, harmless in its imperceptible
+subdivision, in the dew on every flower.
+
+From all this we conclude that the evil effects of tobacco are to be
+determined by their proved _physiological_ effects; and also that we
+must aid our decision by a survey of its general asserted effects. In
+treating of these effects, we shall speak, first, of what is known;
+second, of what its opponents assert; and, third, of what we claim as
+the results of its use.
+
+What is absolutely known is very little. We see occasional instances of
+declining health; we learn that the sufferers smoke or chew, and we are
+very apt to ascribe all their maladies to tobacco. So far as we are
+aware, the most notorious organic lesion which has been supposed due to
+this practice is a peculiar form of cancer of the lip, where the pipe,
+and particularly the clay pipe, has pressed upon the part. But more
+ample statistics have disproved this theory.
+
+We have as yet become acquainted with no satisfactory series of
+experiments upon tobacco analogous to those which have been made of some
+articles of food.
+
+The opponents of tobacco, upon whom we consider the burden of proof to
+rest, in the absence of any marked ill effects palpable in so large a
+consumption of the herb, are thus reduced to generalities.
+
+Tobacco is said to produce derangement of the digestion, and of the
+regular, steady action of the nervous system. These effects must be in a
+measure connected; but one distinct effect of tobacco is claimed, upon
+the secretions of the mouth, with which it comes into direct contact.
+It is said to cause a waste and a deterioration of the saliva. Let us
+examine this first.
+
+The waste of saliva in young smokers and in immoderate chewers we admit.
+The amount secreted by a healthy man has been variously estimated at
+from one and a half to three pounds _per diem_. And it certainly seems
+as if the whole of this was to be found upon the vile floors of
+cars, hotels, and steamboats. The quantity secreted varies much with
+circumstances; but experiments prove the _quality_ to be not affected by
+the amount.
+
+To show how the deterioration of this fluid may affect digestion, we
+must inquire into its normal physiological constitution and uses. Its
+uses are of two kinds: to moisten the food, and to convert starch into
+sugar. The larger glands fulfil the former; the smaller, mostly, the
+latter office. Almost any substance held in the mouth provokes the flow
+of saliva by mechanical irritation. Mental causes influence it; for the
+thought of food will "make the mouth water," as well as its presence
+within the lips. No one who has tried to eat unmoistened food, when
+thirsty, will dispute its uses as a solvent. Tobacco seems to be a
+direct stimulant to the salivary apparatus. Habit blunts this effect
+only to a limited extent. The old smoker has usually some increase of
+this secretion, although he does not expectorate. But if he does not
+waste this product, he swallows it, it is said, in a state unfit to
+promote digestion. The saliva owes its peculiarity to one of its
+components, called _ptyalin_. And this element possesses the remarkable
+power of converting starch into sugar, which is the first step in its
+digestion. Though many azotized substances in a state of decomposition
+exert a similar agency, yet it is possessed by _ptyalin_ in a much
+greater degree. The gastric juice has probably no action on farinaceous
+substances. And it has been proved by experiments, that food moistened
+with water digests more slowly than when mixed with the saliva.
+
+More than this, the conversion of starch into sugar has been shown to
+be positively retarded in the stomach by the acidity of the gastric
+secretions. Only after the azotized food has been somewhat disintegrated
+by the action of the gastric juice, and the fluids again rendered
+alkaline by the presence of saliva, swallowed in small quantities for
+a considerable time after eating, does the saccharifying process go on
+with normal rapidity and vigor.
+
+Now starch is the great element, in all farinaceous articles, which
+is adapted to supply us with calorifacient food. "In its original
+condition, either raw or when broken up by boiling, it does not appear
+that starch is capable of being absorbed by the alimentary canal. By its
+conversion into sugar it can alone become a useful aliment." This is
+effected almost instantaneously by the saliva in the mouth, and at a
+slower rate in the stomach.
+
+Obviously, then, if the use of tobacco interferes with the normal action
+of the saliva, and if the digestion of starch ends in the stomach, here
+is the strong point in the argument of the opponents of tobacco. We
+should wonder at the discrepancy between physiology and facts, theory
+and the evidence of our senses and daily experience among the world
+of smokers, and be ready to renounce either science or "the weed."
+Fortunately for our peace of mind and for our respect for physiology,
+the first point of the proposition is not satisfactorily proved, and the
+second is untrue. We are not certain that nicotin ruins ptyalin; we are
+certain that the functions of other organs are vicarious of those of the
+salivary glands.
+
+We say that it is not satisfactorily proved that tobacco impairs the
+sugar-making function of the saliva. At least, we have never seen the
+proof from recorded experiments. Such may exist, but we have met only
+with loose assertions to this effect, of a similar nature to
+those hygienic _dicta_ which we find bandied about in the
+would-be-physiological popular journals, which are so plentiful in
+this country, and which may be styled the "yellow-cover" literature of
+science.
+
+We acknowledge this to be the weak point in our armor, and are open to
+further light. Yet more, for the sake of hypothesis, we will assume it
+proved. What follows? Are we to get no more sugar while we smoke? By no
+means. Hard by the stomach lies the _pancreas_, an organ so similar in
+structure to the salivary glands, that even so minute an observer as
+Kölliker does not think it requisite to give it a separate description.
+Its secretion, which is poured into the second stomach, contains a
+ferment analogous to that of the saliva, and amounts probably to about
+seven ounces a day. The food, on leaving the stomach, is next subjected
+to its influence, together with that of the bile. It helps digest fatty
+matters by its emulsive powers; it has been more recently supposed to
+form a sort of _peptone_ with nitrogenized articles also; but, what is
+more to our purpose, it turns starch into sugar even more quickly than
+the saliva itself. And even if the reformers were to beat us from this
+stronghold, by proving that tobacco impaired the saccharifying power of
+this organ also, we should still find the mixed fluids supplied by the
+smaller, but very numerous glands of the intestines, sufficient to
+accomplish the requisite modification of starch, though more slowly and
+to a less degree.
+
+We come now to the second count in the indictment,--that tobacco
+injuriously affects the nervous system, and through it the digestion.
+The accusation is here more vague and indefinite, and the answer also
+is less susceptible of proof. Both sides must avail themselves of
+circumstantial, rather than direct evidence.
+
+That digestion is in direct dependence upon the nervous system, and that
+even transitory or emotional states of the latter affect the former,
+there can be no doubt. It is so familiar a fact, that instances need
+hardly be cited to prove it. Hence we are told, that tobacco, by
+deranging the one, disorders the other,--that nervousness, or morbid
+irritability of the nerves, palpitations and tremulousness, are soon
+followed by emaciation and dyspepsia, or more or less inability to
+digest.
+
+We conceive Prout, an eminent authority, to be near the truth, when he
+says of tobacco, "The strong and healthy suffer comparatively little,
+while the weak and predisposed to disease fall victims to its poisonous
+operation." The hod-carrier traversing the walls of lofty buildings, and
+the sailor swinging on the yard-arm, are not subject to nervousness,
+though they smoke and chew; nor are they prone to dyspepsia, unless from
+excesses of another kind.
+
+It has not been shown that tobacco either hastens or delays the
+metamorphosis of tissue,--that it drains the system by waste, or clogs
+it by retarding the natural excretions. We must turn, then, to its
+direct influence upon the nervous system to convince ourselves of its
+ill effects, if such exist.
+
+Nor has it been proved that the nervous influence is affected in such
+a way as directly to impair the innervation of the organic functions,
+which derive their chief impulse to action from the scattered ganglia of
+the sympathetic system. Opium, the most powerful narcotic, benumbs the
+brain into sleep; produces a corresponding reaction, on awakening;
+shuts up the secretions, except that of the skin, and thus deranges the
+alimentary functions. The decriers of tobacco will, we conceive, be
+unable to show that it produces such effects.
+
+The reformers are reduced, then, to the vague generality, that smoking
+and chewing "affect the nerves."
+
+Students, men of sedentary, professional habits, persons of a very
+nervous temperament, or those subject to much excitement in business
+and politics, sometimes show debility and languor, or agitation and
+nervousness, while they smoke and chew. Are there no other causes at
+work, sufficient in themselves to produce these effects? Are want of
+exercise, want of air, want of rest, and want of inherited vigor to be
+eliminated from the estimate, while tobacco is made the scape-goat of
+all their troubles?
+
+Climate, and the various influences affecting any race which has
+migrated after a stationary residence of generations to a new country
+extending under different parallels of latitude, have been reasonably
+accused of rendering us a nervous people. It is not so reasonable to
+charge one habit with being the sole cause of this, although we should
+be more prudent in not following it to excess. The larger consumption
+of tobacco here is due both to the cheapness of the product and to
+the wealth of the consumer. But it does not follow that we are more
+subjected to its narcotic influences because we use the best varieties
+of the weed. On the contrary, the poor and rank tobaccoes, grown under a
+northern sky, are the richest in nicotin.
+
+But it will be better to continue the argument about its effects upon
+the nervous system in connection with the assertions of the reformers.
+The following is a list, by no means complete, of these asserted ill
+effects from its use.
+
+Tobacco is said to cause softening of the brain,--dimness of
+vision,--("the Germans smoke; the Germans are a _spectacled_ nation!"
+_post hoc, ergo propter hoc?_ the laborious intellectual habits of this
+people, and their trying "text," are considered of no account,)--cancer
+of the stomach,--disease of the liver,--dyspepsia,--enfeebled
+nutrition, and consequent emaciation,--dryness of the mouth,--"the
+clergyman's sore-throat" and loss of voice,--irritability of the nervous
+system,--tremulousness,--palpitation and paralysis,--and, among the
+moral ills, loss of energy, idleness, drunkenness. A fearful catalogue,
+which would dedicate the _tabatière_ to Pandora, were it true.
+
+Hygienic reformers are usually unequalled in imaginary horrors, except
+by the charlatans who vend panaceas.
+
+We have no reasons for believing that tobacco causes softening of the
+brain equal in plausibility to those which ascribe it to prolonged and
+excessive mental effort. The statistics of disease prove cancers of
+other organs to be twice as frequent, among females, as cancer of the
+stomach is among males; and an eminent etiologist places narcotics
+among the least proved causes of this disease. A hot climate, abuse
+of alcohol, a sedentary life, and sluggish digestion happen, rather
+curiously, to be very frequent concomitants, if not causes, of disease
+of the liver. Dyspepsia haunts both sexes, and, we venture to assert,
+though we cannot bring figures to prove it, is as frequent among those
+who do not use tobacco as among those who do. We are ready to concede
+that excessive chewing and smoking, particularly if accompanied by large
+expectoration, may impair nutrition and cause emaciation: that the mass
+of mankind eat and digest and live, as well as use "the weed," is proof
+that its moderate employment is not ordinarily followed by this result.
+Dryness of the mouth follows expectoration as a matter of course; but
+the salivation excited in an old smoker by tobacco is very moderate, and
+not succeeded by thirst, unless the smoke be inhaled too rapidly and at
+too high a temperature.
+
+We come next to a very tender point with reformers, the laryngeal cough
+and failing voice of the reverend clergy. The later generations of
+ministers of this vicinity, as a body, have abandoned tobacco, and yet
+the evil has not diminished. An eminent divine of our acquaintance,
+who does not smoke daily, always finds a cigar relieve a trifling
+bronchitis, to which he is occasionally subject The curious will find in
+the "Medical Journal" of this city, for 1839, that quite as much can be
+said on one side as on the other of this subject.
+
+The minor, rarely the graver affections of the nervous system, do follow
+the use of tobacco in excess. We admit this willingly; but we deny these
+effects to its moderate use by persons of ordinary health and of no
+peculiar idiosyncrasy. Numerous cases of paralysis among tobacco-takers
+in France were traced to the lead in which the preparation was
+enveloped.
+
+We pass next to what we claim as the effects of _moderate_
+tobacco-using, and will take first the evidence of the toxicologists.
+Both Pereira and Christison agree that "no well-ascertained ill effects
+have been shown to result from the habitual practice of smoking." Beck,
+a modern authority, says, "Common observation settles the question, that
+the moderate and daily use of tobacco _does not_ prove injurious. This
+is a general rule": and he adds, that exceptions necessarily exist, etc.
+
+The repugnance and nausea which greet the smoker, in his first attempts
+to use tobacco, are not a stronger argument against it than the fact
+that the system so soon becomes habituated to these effects is a proof
+of its essential innocuousness.
+
+Certainly the love of tobacco is not an instinctive appetite, like that
+for nitrogen and carbon in the form of food. Man was not born with a
+cigar in his mouth, and it is not certain that the _Nicotiana tabacum_
+flourished in the Garden of Eden. But history proves the existence of
+an instinct among all races--call it depraved, if you will, the fact
+remains--leading them to employ narcotics. And narcotics all nations
+have sought and found. We venture to affirm that tobacco is harmless as
+any. The betel and the hop can alone compare with it in this respect;
+and the hop is not a narcotic which satisfies alone; others are used
+with it. Opium and Indian hemp are not to be mentioned in comparison;
+while coca, in excess, is much more hurtful.
+
+Tobacco may more properly be called a sedative than a narcotic. Opium,
+the type of the latter class, is in its primary action excitant, but
+secondarily narcotic. The opium-eaters are familiar with this, and
+learn by experience to regulate the dose so as to prolong the first and
+shorten the second effects, as much as possible.
+
+Tobacco, on the other hand, is primarily sedative and relaxing. A high
+authority says of its physiological action:--
+
+"First, That its greater and first effect is to assuage and allay and
+soothe the system in general.
+
+"Second, That its lesser and second, or after effect, is to excite and
+invigorate, and at the same time give steadiness and fixity to the
+powers of thought."
+
+Either of these effects will predominate, we conceive, according to
+the intellectual state and capacity of the individual, as well as in
+accordance with the amount used.
+
+The dreamy Oriental is sunk into deeper reverie under the influence of
+tobacco, and his happiness while smoking seems to consist in thinking of
+nothing. The studious German, on the contrary, "thinks and dreams,
+and dreams and thinks, alternately; but while his body is soothed and
+stilled, his mind is ever awake."
+
+This latter description resembles, to compare small things with great,
+the effects of opium, as detailed by De Quincey.
+
+"In habitual smokers," says Pereira, "the practice, when moderately
+indulged, produces that remarkably soothing and tranquillizing effect on
+the mind which has caused it to be so much admired and adopted by all
+classes of society."
+
+The pleasure derived from tobacco is very hard to define, since it is
+negative rather than positive, and to be estimated more by what it
+prevents than by what it produces. It relieves the little vexations and
+cares of life, soothes the harassed mind, and promotes quiet reflection.
+This it does most of all when used sparingly and after labor. But
+if incessantly consumed, it keeps up a constant, but mild cerebral
+exhilaration. The mind acts more promptly and more continuously under
+its use. We think any tobacco-consumer will bear us out in this
+definition of its varying effects.
+
+After a full meal, if it does not help, it at least hides digestion.
+"It settles one's dinner," as the saying is, and gives that feeling of
+quiet, luxurious _bien-aise_ which would probably exist naturally in
+a state of primeval health. It promotes, with most persons, the
+peristaltic movements of the alimentary passages by its relaxing
+properties.
+
+Smoking is eminently social, and favors domestic habits. And in this
+way, we contend, it prevents drinking, rather than leads to it. Many
+still associate the cigar with the bar-room. This notion should have
+become obsolete ere this, for it has an extremely limited foundation in
+fact. Bachelors and would-be-manly boys are not the only consumers of
+tobacco, though they are the best patrons of the bar. The poor man's
+pipe retains him by his own fireside, as well as softens his domestic
+asperities.
+
+Excess in tobacco, like excess in any other material good meant for
+moderate use, is followed by evil effects, more or less quickly,
+according to the constitution and temperament of the abuser. The
+lymphatic and obese can smoke more than the sanguine and nervous, with
+impunity. How much constitutes excess varies with each individual.
+Manufacturers of tobacco do not appear to suffer. Christison states, as
+the result of the researches of MM. Parent-Duchatelet and D'Arcet among
+four thousand workmen in the tobacco-manufactories of France, that they
+found no evidence of its being unwholesome. Moderate tobacco-users
+attain longevity equal to that of any other class in the community.
+
+We will cite only the following brief statistics from an old physician
+of a neighboring town. In looking over the list of the oldest men, dead
+or alive, within his circle of acquaintance, he finds a total of 67 men,
+from 73 to 93 years of age. Their average age is 78 and a fraction. Of
+these 67, 54 were smokers or chewers; 9 only, non-consumers of tobacco;
+and 4 were doubtful, or not ascertained. About nine-elevenths smoked or
+chewed. The compiler quaintly adds, "How much longer these men might
+have lived without tobacco, it is impossible to determine."
+
+The tobacco-leaf is consumed by man usually in three ways: by smoking,
+snuffing, or chewing. The first is the most common; the last is the most
+disagreeable.
+
+Tobacco is smoked in the East Indies, China, and Siam; in Turkey and
+Persia; over Europe generally; and in North and South America. Cigars
+are preferred in the East and West Indies, Spain, England, and America.
+China, Turkey, Persia, and Germany worship the pipe. In Europe the pipe
+is patronized on account of its cheapness. Turks and Persians use the
+mildest forms of pipe-smoking, choosing pipes with long, flexible stems,
+and having the smoke cooled and purified by passing through water. The
+Germans prefer the porous meerschaum,--the Canadians, the common clay.
+Women smoke habitually in China, the East and West Indies, and to a less
+extent in South America, Spain, and France.
+
+We have no fears that any reasoning of ours would induce the other
+sex to use tobacco. The ladies set too just a value on the precious
+commodity of their charms for that. There is little danger that they
+would do anything which might render them disagreeable. The practice of
+snuff-taking is about the only form they patronize, and that to a slight
+extent.
+
+France is the home of snuff. A large proportion of all the tobacco
+consumed there is used in this form. The practice prevails to a large
+extent also in Iceland and Scotland. The Icelander uses a small horn,
+like a powder-horn, to hold his snuff. Inserting the smaller end into
+the nostril, he elevates the other, and thus conveys the pungent powder
+directly to the part. The more delicate Highlander carries the snuff to
+his nose on a little shovel. This can be surpassed only by the habit
+of "dipping," peculiar to some women of the United States, and whose
+details will not bear description.
+
+Chewing prevails _par excellence_ in our own country, and among the
+sailors of most nations,--to some extent also in Switzerland, Iceland,
+and among the Northern races. It is the safest and most convenient form
+at sea.
+
+By smoking, each of the three active ingredients of tobacco is rendered
+capable of absorption. The empyreumatic oil is produced by combustion.
+The pipe retains this and a portion of the nicotin in its pores. The
+cigar, alone, conveys all the essential elements into the system.
+
+Liebig once asserted that cigar-smoking was prejudicial from the
+amount of gaseous carbon inhaled. We cannot believe this. The heat of
+cigar-smoke may have some influence on the teeth; and, on the whole, the
+long pipe, with a porous bowl, is probably the best way of using tobacco
+in a state of ignition.
+
+By repeated fermentations in preparing snuff, much of the nicotin is
+evaporated and lost. Yet snuff-takers impair the sense of smell, and
+ruin the voice, by clogging up the passages with the finer particles of
+the powder. The functions of the labyrinthine caverns of the nose and
+forehead, and of the delicate osseous laminae which constitute the
+sounding-boards of vocalization, are thus destroyed.
+
+Chewing is the most constant, as it is the nastiest habit. The old
+chewer, safe in the blunted irritability of the salivary glands, can
+continue his practice all night, if he be so infatuated, without
+inconvenience. In masticating tobacco, nicotin and nicotianin are rolled
+about in the mouth with the quid, but are not probably so quickly
+absorbed as when in the gaseous state. Yet chewers are the greatest
+spitters, and have a characteristic drooping of the angle of the lower
+lip, which points to loss of power in the _leavator_ muscles.
+
+Latakia, Shiraz, Manila, Cuba, Virginia, and Maryland produce the most
+valuable tobaccoes. Though peculiar soils and dressings may impart
+a greater aroma and richness to the plant, by the variations in the
+quantity of nicotianin, as compared with the other organic elements, yet
+we are inclined to think that the diminished proportion of nicotin in
+the best varieties in the cause of their superior flavor to the rank
+Northern tobaccoes, and that it is mainly because they are milder that
+they are most esteemed. So, too, the cigar improves with age, because
+a certain amount of nicotin evaporates and escapes. Taste in cigars
+varies, however, from the Austrian government article, a very rank
+"long-nine," with a straw running through the centre to improve its
+suction, to the Cuban _cigarrito_, whose ethereal proportions three
+whiffs will exhaust.
+
+The manufacture of smoking-tobaccoes is as much and art in Germany as
+getting up a fancy brand of cigars is here; and the medical philosopher
+of that country will gravely debate whether "Kanaster" or "Varinas" be
+best suited for certain forms of convalescence; tobacco being almost
+as indispensable as gruel, in returning health. We think the
+light pipe-smoker will find a combination of German and Turkish
+smoking-tobaccoes a happy thought. The old smoker may secure the best
+union of delicacy and strength in the Virginia "natural leaf."
+
+Among the eight or ten species of the tobacco-plant now recognized by
+botanists, the _Nicotiana tabacum_ and the _Nicotiana rustica_ hold the
+chief place. Numerous varieties of each of these, however, are named and
+exist.
+
+We condense from De Bow's "Industrial Resources of the South and West" a
+brief account of tobacco-culture in this country. "The tobacco is best
+sown from the 10th to the 20th of March, and a rich loam is the most
+favorable soil. The plants are dressed with a mixture of ashes, plaster,
+soot, salt, sulphur, soil, and manure." After they are transplanted,
+we are told that "the soil best adapted to the growth of tobacco is a
+light, friable one, or what is commonly called a sandy loam; not too
+flat, but rolling, undulating land." Long processes of hand-weeding must
+be gone through, and equal parts of plaster and ashes are put on each
+plant. "Worms are the worst enemy," and can be effectually destroyed
+only by hand. "When the plant begins to yellow, it is time to put it
+away; and it is cut off close to the ground." After wilting a little on
+the ground, it is dried on sticks, by one of the three processes called
+"pegging, spearing, and splitting." "When dry, the leaves are stripped
+off and tied in bundles of one fifth or sixth of a pound each. It is
+sorted into three or four qualities, as Yellow, Bright, Dull, etc."
+Next it is "bulked," or put into bundles, and these again dried, and
+afterwards "conditioned," and packed in hogsheads weighing from six
+hundred to a thousand pounds each.
+
+It would be too long to detail the processes of cigar- and snuff-making,
+the latter of which is quite complicated.
+
+We were happy to learn from the fearful work of Hassall on "Food and
+its Adulterations," that tobacco was one of the articles least tampered
+with; and particularly that there was no opium in cheroots, but nothing
+more harmful than hay and paper. He ascribes this immunity mainly to
+the vigilance of the excisemen. But we have recently seen a work on
+the adulteration of tobacco, whose microscopic plates brought back our
+former misgivings. Molasses is a very common agent used to give color
+and render it toothsome. Various vegetable leaves, as the rhubarb,
+beech, walnut, and mullein, as well as the less delectable bran, yellow
+ochre, and hellebore, in snuff, are also sometimes used to defraud.
+Saltpetre is often sprinkled on, in making cigars, to improve their
+burning.
+
+The Indians mixed tobacco in their pipes with fragrant herbs. Cascarilla
+bark is a favorite with some smokers; it is a simple aromatic and
+tonic, but, when smoked, is said sometimes to occasion vertigo and
+intoxication.
+
+We have before observed that tobacco is a very exhausting crop to the
+soil. The worn-out tobacco-plantations of the South are sufficient
+practical proof of this, while it is also readily explained by
+chemistry. The leaves of tobacco are among the richest in incombustible
+ash, yielding, when burned, from 19 to 28 _per cent_. of inorganic
+substance. This forms the abundant ashes of tobacco-pipes and of cigars.
+All this has been derived from the soil where it was raised, and it is
+of a nature very necessary to vegetation, and not very abundant in the
+most fertile lands. "Every ton of dried tobacco-leaves carries off from
+four to five hundred-weight of this mineral matter,--as much as is
+contained in fourteen tons of the grain of wheat." It follows
+that scientific agriculture can alone restore this waste to the
+tobacco-plantation.
+
+There is one other aspect of this great subject, which is almost
+peculiar to New England, the home of reform. Certain Puritanical
+pessimists have argued that the use of tobacco is immoral. There are
+few, except our own sober people, who would admit this question at
+all. We would treat this prejudice with the respect due to all sincere
+reforms. And we have attempted to show, that, since all races have used
+and will use narcotics, we had better yield a little, lest more be
+taken, and concede them tobacco, which is more harmless than many that
+are largely consumed. We have proved to our own satisfaction, and we
+hope to theirs, that tobacco _in moderation_ neither affects the health
+nor shortens life; that it does not create an appetite for stimulants,
+but rather supplies their place; and that it favors sociality and
+domestic habits more than the reverse.
+
+If the formation of any habit be objected to, we reply, that this is
+a natural tendency of man, that things become less prejudicial by
+repetition, and that a high hygienic authority advises us "to be regular
+even in our vices."
+
+As we began in a light, we close in a more sober vein, apologists for
+tobacco, rather than strongly advocating either side. On one point we
+are sure that we shall agree with the ladies, and that is in a sincere
+denunciation of the habit of smoking at a tender age. And although, in
+accordance with the tendency of the times, the school-boy whom we caught
+attached to a "long-nine" would consistently reply, _"Civis Americanus
+sum_!" we shall persist in claiming the censorship of age over those on
+whose chins the callow down of adolescence is yet ungrown.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+SHAKSPEARE DONE INTO FRENCH.
+
+
+In the first place, it really was an immense success, and Shylock, or
+Sheeloque, as they dubbed him, was called before the curtain seven
+times, and in most appropriate humility nearly laid his nose on his
+insteps as he bowed, and quite showed his spine.
+
+It certainly was like Shakspeare in this, that it had five acts; but
+when I have made that concession, and admitted that Sheeloque was
+_Le Juif de Venise_, I think I have named all the cardinal points of
+similarity in the "Merchant of Venice" and "Le Juif" of that same
+unwholesome place. To be sure, there is a suspicion of _le devin
+Williams_, as they will call him, continually cropping out; but a
+conscientious man would not swear to one line of it, and I do not
+think Shakspeare would be justified in suing the French author for
+compensation under the National Copyright-Act. I speak of Shakspeare as
+existing, because it is my belief he does, in a manner so to speak.
+
+I have intimated that "Le Juif" has five acts; but I have not yet
+committed myself to the assertion that he was in seven _tableaux_, and
+possessed a prologue.
+
+It is now my pleasing duty to force you through the five acts, and the
+one prologue, and the seven _tableaux_,--every one of them.
+
+This prologue is divided as to the theatre into two parts: to left,
+Sheeloque's domestic interior,--to right, a practicable canal. In the
+very first line out crops Shylock's love of good bargains; and I
+give the reader my word, the little Frenchmen saw that this was
+characteristic, and applauded vehemently. _"Bon_," said I,--"if they
+applaud the first line, what will they do with the last act?"
+
+It need not be said that Shylock dabbles in those bills which Venetian
+swells of the fifteenth century, in common with those of a later age
+and more western land, will manipulate, in spite of all the political
+economy from Confucius down to Mr. Mill; and in this particular instance
+and prologue the names of the improvidents are Leone and Ubaldo, neither
+of which, if my memory serve me, is Shakspearian. These gentlemen
+considerably shake my traditional respect for sixteenth-century
+Venetian _Aristos_, for they insult that Jew till I wonder where a count
+and a duke have learnt such language: but they serve a purpose; they
+trot Shylock out, so to speak, and give our author an opportunity
+of doing his best with A 1. Shylock's great speech. Here is the
+apostrophe:--
+
+"But yesterday--no later past than yesterday--thou didst bid thy
+mistress call at me from her balcony; thy servants by thy will did cast
+mud on me, and thy hounds sped snapping after me,'"--whereby we may infer
+they went hunting in Venice, in the fifteenth century. It must have been
+rather dangerous running. Nor could the Venetian nobles of that good old
+time have been very proper; for Leone and Ubaldo justify themselves by
+saying they were drunk.
+
+It is after this pretty excuse that Shylock has a soliloquy as long as
+his beard,--and I hear really loud opposition to this didacticism in the
+pit; but, however, this slow work soon meets compensation in violent
+action. Shylock won't renew, and the nobles get indignant; so they
+propose to pay Shylock with more kicks than halfpence. Here the action
+begins; for Shylock protests he will bite a bit out of them; and though
+one of these long-sleeved swells warns him that all threats by Jews
+against Christians are an imprisonment manner, Shylock rashly prepares
+for a defence. Away fly the lords after Shylock, over go the chairs,
+down goes the table, and I suppose Shylock _does_ hit "one of them"; for
+the two lords go off quite triumphantly, with the intimation that he
+will be in prison in one hour from that.
+
+Then the Jew calls for--Sarah; and this same comes in on tiptoe, for
+fear of waking the baby. This Shylock _fils_ Sarah proceeds to describe
+as equally beautiful with Abel and Moses, which seems to give Shylock
+_père_ great comfort,--though I am bound to admit the lowly whispered
+doubt on the part of a pit-neighbor of mine as to Sarah's capability of
+judging in the matter.
+
+Shylock is preparing for prison, it seems, and one little necessity is a
+prayer for said son. Sarah comes in with a response, Shylock leaves
+off praying "immediate," to tell Sarah she is no vulgar servant, which
+assurance is received in the tearful manner. And here it comes a
+little faint whiff of the real play. In leaving home, Shylock's French
+plagiarizes the Jew's speech to Jessica, even down to the doubt the Jew
+has about leaving his house at all.
+
+There has been no necessity for stating that Sara supposes herself the
+widow of a libel on his sex, a man unspeakable; and the moment I hear he
+is, or was, a man of crime unspeakable, I know he will turn up. Shylock
+having gone away,--I do not know where,--up comes a gondola to the
+front-door, and, of course, in walks Sarah's husband. "Good evening,
+Ma'am," says he. "God of Israel!" says she. And then such an explanation
+as this infamous husband gives! He puts in, that he is a pirate; that
+his captain, whom he describes as a _Vénus en corsaire_, has lost a
+son, and wants another; hence speaker, name Arnheim, wants that little
+Israelite who is so much like Abel and Moses at one and the same moment:
+though how Arnheim should know of that little creation, or how he should
+know him to be also like the lost infantile pirate as well as Abel and
+Moses, does not sufficiently appear,--as, indeed, my neighbor, who is
+suggestive of a Greek Chorus in a blue blouse, discovers in half a dozen
+disparaging syllables.
+
+Of course, when the supposed widow hears this, her cries ought to wake
+up all hearing Venice, but not one Venetian comes to her aid; and though
+she uses her two hands enough for twenty, she has not got her way when
+thoroughly breathed.
+
+"Sarah," says that energetic woman's husband, "Sarah, don't be a fool!"
+
+Then I know the baby is coming: there never yet was a French prologue
+without a baby,--it seems a French unity; sometimes there are two
+babies, who always get mixed up. But to our business.
+
+Out comes the baby, (they never scream,) and--alas that for effect he
+should thus commit himself!--Arnheim rips Sarah up, and down she goes as
+dead as the Queen of Sheba.
+
+Then comes a really fine scene. Shylock enters, learns all; in come
+soldiers for Shylock, and, of course, accuse him of the murder;
+whereupon Shylock shows on the blade a cross. "Doth a Jew wear a knife
+with a cross on it?" says he. "Go to!--'tis a Christian murder."
+
+To this the soldier-head has nothing to say; so he hurries Shylock off
+to prison, and down comes the curtain.
+
+"Hum!" says the Greek Chorus,--"it might be worse."
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+It is clear there must be lady characters, or I am quite sure the Greek
+Chorus would find fault wofully,--and the only one we have had, Sarah,
+to wit, can't decently appear again, except in the spiritual form. Well,
+there is the original Portia,--alas for that clever, virtuous, and
+noble lady!--how is she fallen in the French!--she is noble-looking and
+clever,--but the third quality, oh, dear me! This disreputable is named
+Imperia, and the real Bassanio becomes one Honorius, who is, as he
+should be, the bosom friend of one Andronic, which is Antonio, I would
+have you know. I have thought over it two minutes, and have come to the
+conclusion that the less I say about Imperia the better, and I know the
+Anglo-Saxon would not agree with Imperia,--but, as the Frenchman does,
+I offer you one, or part of one of Imperia's songs, as bought by me for
+two disgraceful _sous_.
+
+ "Déjà l'aube rayonne et luit,
+ La nuit
+ Finit;
+ Maîtresse,
+ L'heure enchanteresse
+ Passe et fuit...
+ A ton arrêt je dois me rendre.
+ Sort jaloux! (_bis._)
+ Hâtons-nous,
+ Il faut descendre
+ Sans réveiller son vieil époux!..."
+
+Well,--what do you think of it? Now I will not mention her again,--I
+will refer to her, when I shall have vexatious occasion, as "that
+woman." And, indeed, "that woman" and Honorius set us up in
+comprehension of matters progressing. It seems that quite twenty years
+have passed since Sarah's soul slid through a knife-gash; that Honorius
+and Andronic, who have come from Smyrna, (why?) are almost brothers;
+that Honorius is good in this fact only, that he knows he is really bad;
+and that Andronic is the richest and most moral man in Venice,--though
+why, under those circumstances, he should be friendly with such a rip as
+Honorius, Honorius does not inform us.
+
+I shall pass over the next scenes, and come to that in which all the
+creditors of all the lords are brought on to the stage in a state which
+calls for the interference of the Doge: they are all drunk,--except
+Shylock. This scene really is a startler. Shylock, now dashed with
+gray, and nearly double, comes up to "that woman" and calls her sister;
+whereupon she demanding that explanation which I and the Greek Chorus
+simultaneously want, Shylock states that _he_ is Usury and _she_ Luxury,
+"and they have one father."
+
+"Queer old man!!!" says "that woman."
+
+Here follow dice, in which the Jew is requested to join, all of which
+naturally brings about a discussion on the rate of usage, which that
+dog Andronic is bringing down, and a further statement that _that_
+imprisonment lasted two years. Then comes a _coup d'théâtre_: Shylock
+reminds everybody that a just Doge reigns now, (nor can I help pointing
+out the Frenchman's ingenuity here: in the _play_, the Doge must be
+just, or where would the pound of flesh be?--while, if the Doge of the
+_prologue_ were just, Shylock would not have been committed for two
+years,--ergo, kill No. 1. Doge, install No. 2.)--Shylock reminds
+everybody that a just Doge reigns. Shylock has it all his own way, and
+Honorius is arrested before the very eyes of "that woman." Then comes
+the necessary _Deus ex machina_ in the shape of Andronic, who pays
+everybody everything, saves his friend, and play proceeds. Andronic
+reproaches Jew touching his greed, whereon the Jew offers this not
+profound remark,--"I am--what I am,"--and goes on counting his money.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the secret!
+
+This cash payment winds up the act.
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+Decidedly, the beginning of Act Second proves Andronic is no fool, for
+he advises Honorius to flee that creature,--and what better advice in
+those matters is there than that of retreating? Decidedly, too,
+the virtuous Doge is worth having,--really a Middle-Age electric
+telegraph,--for he gives all about him such a dose of news as in this
+day would sell every penny-paper printed: and such bad news!--Venice
+down everywhere, and a loan wanted. Here comes a fine scene for
+Andronic, (for, after all, the lords have "hitched out" of the proposed
+loan, whereby I take it they are not such fools as people take them to
+be,)--Andronic declares, that, if he were rich enough, the Doge should
+not ask for money, but ships are but frail and his have gone to pieces.
+Here, you see, comes another faint whiff of the real original play.
+
+Then, clearly, the Doge can only apply to the Jews. Enter Shylock _à
+propos_. The next scene is so awful to the Greek Chorus, who may be of a
+business turn, that I am charitable enough not to reproduce it here;
+but the percentage the Jew wants for the loan seems to be quite a
+multiplication-table of tangible securities, and I only wonder the Doge
+does not order him into the Adriatic. Amongst other demands, the Jew
+procures all the Dogic jewels,--and then he wants all the jewels of the
+Doge's daughter; indeed, Shylock becomes a most unreasonable party.
+
+No sooner does he speak of the daughter, Ginevra by name, than in she
+comes, jewel-casket in hand,--which leads the cynical Greek Chorus to
+suppose that Mademoiselle is either _clairvoyante_ or prefers going
+about with a box. The way in which that best of her sex offers up the
+jewels on the patriotic shrine is really worthy of the applause bestowed
+on the act; but when that pig of a Jew is not satisfied, when he insists
+upon the diamond necklace Ginevra wears, as another preliminary to the
+loan, people in the theatre quite shake with indignation.
+
+Now the jewel has been the pattern young lady's mother's; and here comes
+an opening for that appeal to the filial love of Frenchmen which is
+never touched in vain. It is really a great and noble trait in the
+French character, that filial love, not too questionable to be
+demonstrative,--'tis a sure dramatist's French card, that appeal to the
+love of mothers and fathers by their children.
+
+Having procured the weight of this chain, which has caused Shylock the
+loss of many friends in the house who have been inclined to like him
+consequent upon the loss of that Abel-Moses-photograph,--Shylock departs
+with this information, that he will bring the money to-morrow: which
+assertion proves Shylock to be a strong man, if a hundred thousand marks
+are as heavy as I take them to be.
+
+Upon what little things do dramas, in common with lives, turn!
+That necklace is the brilliant groundwork of the rest of the plot.
+Why--why--why--WHY didn't Shakspeare think of the necklace?
+
+And as I always must tell love-affairs as soon as I hear of them,--for,
+as a rule, I live in country towns,--I may at once state that Ginevra
+loved Andronic, and latter loved former, and they would not tell each
+other, and the Doge knew nothing about it.
+
+Yes, decidedly, the necklace is the first character in "Le Juif de
+Venise." You see, Ginevra loved the necklace, and Andronic loved
+Ginevra; so he is forced to procure that charming necklace for her,
+_coûte qui coûte_, and so he goes to Shylock for it. And here you will
+see its value: Shylock will sell it only for a large sum. Andronic,
+seeing his losses, hasn't the money,--but will have;--glorious opening
+for the clause about the pound of flesh! Signed, sealed, and delivered.
+How superior is Andronic to Antonio, the old ----! This latter pawns his
+breast for a friend only: the great Andronic risks the flesh about _his_
+heart for sacred love. Io Venus!
+
+Yet, nevertheless, notwithstanding, it is the opinion of the Greek
+Chorus that Andronic is a _joli_ fool,--which choral remark I hear
+with pain, as reflecting upon unhesitating love, and especially as the
+remarker has been eminently touched at the abduction.
+
+
+ACT IV.
+
+
+As for the Fourth Act,--it is very tender and terrible.
+
+I need not say that the tenderness arises through the necklace,--and
+indeed, for that matter, so also does the terror. Touching the first, of
+course it is the discovery by Ginevra of the return of those maternal
+diamonds,--which are handed to her by a _femme-de-chambre_, who has
+had them from Andronic's _valet-de-chambre_, who is in love with the
+_femme-de-chambre_, who reciprocates, etc., etc., etc.
+
+But touching the terrible,--"that woman" hears of the necklace, and
+sends Honorius for it to Shylock. Bad job!--gone! Well, then, Honorius
+falls out with his old friend Andronic because latter will not yield up
+the necklace. Honorius demands to know who has it. Andronic will not
+name Ginevra's name before "that woman" and all the lofty lords, and
+then there's a grand scene.
+
+In the first place, it seems that in Shylock's Venetian time, the
+Venetian lords, when obliging Venice with a riot, called upon Venetians
+to put out their lights, and this the lords now do, (we are on the
+piazza,) and out go all the lights as though turned off at one main.
+
+Then there is such a scrimmage! Honorius lunges at Andronic; this latter
+disarms former; then latter comes to his senses, flies over to his old
+friend, and all the Venetian brawlers are put to flight.
+
+Then Honorius says,--and pray, pray, mark what Honorius says, or you
+will _never_ comprehend Act V.,--then Honorius says, taking Andronic's
+previous advice about flying, "I will go away, _and fight the Adriatic
+pirates_." Now, pray, don't forget that. I quite distress myself in
+praying you not to forget that,--to wit,--"_Honorius goes away to fight
+the Adriatic pirates._"
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+
+ACT V.
+
+
+This, of course, is the knifing act.
+
+Seated is Shylock before an hour-glass, and trying to count the grains
+of sand as they glide through.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+You remember that in that original play Antonio's ships are lost merely.
+Bah! we manage better in this matter: the ships come home, but they are
+empty,--emptied by the pirates; though why those Adriaticians did not
+confiscate the ships is even beyond the Greek Chorus, who says, "They
+were very polite."
+
+At last all the sand is at rest.
+
+Crack,--as punctual as a postman comes Andronic; and as the Venetians
+are revolting against the flesh business, about which they seem to know
+every particular, Andronic brings a guard of the just Doge's soldiers
+to keep the populace quiet while the business goes on;--all of which
+behavior on the merchant's part my friend the Chorus pronounces to be
+stupid and suicidal.
+
+Then comes such a scene!--Andronic calling for Ginevra, and the Jew
+calling for his own.
+
+Breast bared.
+
+Then thus the Jew:--
+
+"Feeble strength of my old body, be centred in this eye and this arm!
+Thou, my son, receive this sacrifice, and tremble with joy in thy
+unknown tomb!"
+
+Knife raised.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+And I _do_ hope you have not forgotten that Honorius went away to fight
+the Adriatic pirates.
+
+For, if you have forgotten that fact, you will not comprehend Honorius's
+rushing in at this moment from the Adriatic pirates.
+
+Yes,--but why did he go amongst them?
+
+The big secret, in fact. If Honorius had not gone, why, I suppose
+Shylock would have had his pound of man.
+
+As it is, Honorius and his paper--which latter has also come from the
+pirates--do the business.
+
+Why, the whole thing turns on the paper. How lucky it was Honorius went
+amongst the pirates!
+
+Honorius has vanquished the chief of the pirates,--who was named
+Arnheim,--and that disreputable widower, just before his last breath,
+gave Honorius the said paper,--though why, it is not clear. And--and
+this paper shows that ANDRONIC IS THAT SON STOLEN AWAY FROM SARAH,
+DECEASED, AND SHYLOCK,--THAT SON, NOT ONLY THE IMAGE OF ABEL, BUT OF
+MOSES, TOO.
+
+Great thunderbolts!
+
+Then, very naturally, (in a play,) in come all the characters, and
+follows, I am constrained to say, a very well-conceived scene,--'tis
+another appeal to filial love. The Jew would own his son, but he
+remembers that it would injure the son, and so he keeps silent. I
+declare, there is something eminently beautiful in the idea of making
+the Jew yield his wealth up to Andronic, and saying he will wander from
+Venice,--his staff his only wealth. And when, as he stoops to kiss his
+son's hand, Ginevra (who of course has come on with the rest) makes a
+gesture as though she feared treachery, the few words put into the Jew's
+mouth are full of pathos and poetry.
+
+And so down comes the curtain,--the piece meeting with the full approval
+of Chorus, who applauded till I thought he would snap his hands off at
+the wrists.
+
+"A very moral play," said a stout gentleman behind me,--who had done
+little else all night but break into the fiercest of apples and
+pears,--"a very moral play,"--meaning thereby, probably, that it was
+very moral that a Jew's child should remain a Christian.
+
+Now there were some good points in that play; but, oh, thou M. Ferdinand
+Dugué, thou,--why didst thou challenge comparison with a man who wrote
+for all theatres for all times?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+THE POET'S SINGING.
+
+
+ In heat and in cold, in sunshine and rain,
+ Bewailing its loss and boasting its gain,
+ Blessing its pleasure and cursing its pain,
+ The hurrying world goes up and down:
+ Every avenue and street
+ Of city and town
+ Are veins that throb with the restless beat
+ Of the eager multitude's trampling feet.
+ Men wrangle together to get and hold
+ A sceptre of power or a crock of gold;
+ Blaspheming God's name with the breath He gave,
+ And plotting revenge on the brink of the grave!
+ And Fashion's followers, flitting after,
+ O'ertake and pass the funeral train,
+ Thoughtlessly scattering jests and laughter,
+ Like sharp, quick showers of hail and rain,
+ To beat on the hearts that are bleeding with pain!
+ And many who stare at the close-shut hearse
+ Envy the dead within,--or, worse,
+ Turn away with a keener zest
+ To grapple and revel and sin with the rest!
+ While far apart in a bower of green,
+ Unheeded, unseen,
+ A warbling bird on the topmost bough
+ Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
+ Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
+ But he hears the surging waves without,--
+ The heartless jeer, and the wild, wild shout:
+ The ceaseless clamor, the cruel strife
+ Make the Poet weary of life;
+ And tears of pity and tears of pain
+ Ebb and flow in every strain,
+ As he soothes his heart with singing.
+
+ The tide of humanity rolleth on;
+ And 'mid faces miserly, haggard, and wan,
+ Between the hypocrite's and the knave's,
+ The hapless idiot's and the slave's,
+ Sweet children smile in their nurses' arms,
+ And clap their hands in innocent glee;
+ While, unrebuked by the heavenly charms
+ That beam in the eyes of infancy,
+ Oaths still blacken the lips of men,
+ And startle the ears of womanhood!
+ On either hand
+ The churches stand,
+ Forgotten by those who yesterday
+ Went thronging thither to praise and pray,
+ And take of the Holy Body and Blood!
+ Their week-day creed is the law of Might;
+ Self is their idol, and Gain their right:
+ Though, now and then,
+ God sees some faithful disciples still
+ Breasting the current to do His will.
+ The little bird on the topmost bough
+ Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
+ Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
+ But he hears the surging waves without,--
+ The atheist's scoff and the infidel's doubt,
+ The Pharisee's cant and the sweet saint's prayer,
+ And the piercing cry for rest from care;
+ And tears of pity and tears of pain
+ Ebb and flow in every strain,
+ As he praises God with singing.
+
+
+
+
+A JOURNEY IN SICILY.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+PALERMO.
+
+
+In the latter part of April, 1856, four travellers, one of whom was the
+present writer, left the Vittoria Hotel at Naples, and at two, P.M.,
+embarked on board the Calabrese steamer, pledged to leave for Palermo
+precisely at that hour. As, however, our faith in the company's
+protestations was by no means so implicit as had been our obedience to
+their orders, it was with no feeling of surprise that we discovered by
+many infallible signs that the hour of departure was yet far off. True,
+the funnel sent up its thick cloud; the steward in dirty shirt-sleeves
+stood firm in the gangway, energetically demanding from the
+baggage-laden traveller the company's voucher for the fare, without
+which he may vainly hope to leave the gangway ladder; the decks were
+crowded in every part with lumber, live and dead. But all these symptoms
+had to be increased many fold in their intensity before we could hope to
+get under way; and a single glance at the listless countenances of the
+bare-legged, bare-armed, red-capped crowd who adhered like polypi to
+the rough foundation-stones of the mole sufficed to show that the
+performance they had come to witness would not soon commence. Our berths
+once visited, we cast about for some quiet position wherein to while
+away the intervening time. The top of the deck-house offered as pleasant
+a prospect as could be hoped for, and thither we mounted.
+
+The whole available portion of the deck, poop included, was in
+possession of a crowd of youngsters, many mere boys, from the Abruzzi,
+destined to exchange their rags and emptiness for the gay uniform and
+good rations of King Ferdinand's soldiery. In point of physical comfort,
+their gain must be immense; and very bad must be that government
+which, despite of these advantages, has forced upon the soldier's mind
+discontent and disaffection. No doubt, the spectacle of the Swiss
+regiments doubly paid, and (on Sundays at least) trebly intoxicated,
+has something to do with this ill feeling. The raggedness of this troop
+could be paralleled only by that of the immortal regiment with whom
+their leader declined to march through Coventry, and was probably even
+more quaint and fantastic in its character. Chief in singularity were
+their hats, if hat be the proper designation of the volcanic-looking
+gray cone which adhered to the head by some inscrutable dynamic law, and
+seemed rather fitted for carrying out the stratagem of shoeing a troop
+of horse with felt than for protecting a human skull. A triple row
+of scalloped black velvet not unfrequently bore testimony to the
+indomitable love of the nation for ornament; and the same decoration
+might be found on their garments, whose complicated patchwork reminded
+us of the humble original from which has sprung our brilliant Harlequin.
+Shortly our attention was solicited by a pantomimic Roscius, some ten or
+twelve years old, who, having climbed over the taffrail and cleared a
+stage of some four feet square, dramatized all practicable scenes, and
+many apparently impracticable, for he made nothing of presenting two or
+three personages in rapid interchange. Words were needless, and would
+have been useless, as the unloading of railway bars by a brawny
+Northumbrian and his crew drowned all articulate sounds.
+
+Notwithstanding these varied amusements, we were not sorry to see
+arrive, first, a gray general, obviously the Triton of our minnows, and
+close behind him the health and police officers of the government, to
+whose paternal solicitude for our mental and bodily health was to be
+ascribed our long delay in port. These beneficent influences, incarnated
+in the form of two portly gentlemen in velvet waistcoats,--an Italian
+wears a velvet waistcoat, if he can get one, far into the hot
+months,--began their work of summoning by name each individual from the
+private to the general, then the passengers, then the crew, and finally,
+much to our relief, reëmbarked in the boat, and left us free to pursue
+our voyage.
+
+We soon left behind the ominous cone of Vesuvius, reported by the best
+judges to be at present in so unsound a state that nothing can prevent
+its early fall; sunset left us near the grand precipices of Anacapri,
+and morning found us with Ustica on our beam, and the semicircle of
+mountains which enchase the gem of Palermo gradually unfolding their
+beauties. By ten, A.M., we were in harbor and pulling shorewards to
+subject ourselves to the scrutiny of custom-house and police. Our
+passports duly conned over, the functionary, with a sour glance at our
+valanced faces, inquired if we had letters for any one in the island.
+Never before had such a question been asked me, nor ever before could I
+have given other than an humble negative. But the kindness of a friend
+had luckily provided me with a formidable shield, and a reply, given
+with well-assumed ease, that I had letters from the English Ambassador
+for the Viceroy, smoothed the grim feature, and released us from the
+dread tribunal. The custom-house gave no trouble, and we reëmbarked to
+cross about half a mile of water which separated us from the city gate.
+Here, however, we were destined to experience the influence of the sunny
+clime: our two stout boatmen persisted in setting their sail, under the
+utterly false pretence that there was some wind blowing, and fully half
+an hour elapsed ere we set foot ashore.
+
+This gave me ample time to recall the different aspect of Palermo when
+first I saw it, in 1849. I had accompanied the noble squadron, English
+and French, which carried to the Sicilian government the _ultimatum_
+of the King of Naples. The scenes of that troubled time passed vividly
+before me: the mutual salutes of the Admirals; the honors paid by
+each separately to the flag of Sicily, that flag which we had come to
+strike,--for such we all knew must be the effect of our withdrawal. I
+recollected the manly courtesy with which the Sicilians received us,
+their earnest assurances that they did not confound our involuntary
+errand with our personal feelings; and how, when a wild Greek
+mountaineer from the Piano de' Greci, unable to comprehend the
+intricacies of politics, and stupidly imagining that those who were
+not for him were against him, had insulted one of our officers, the
+bystanders had interposed so honorably and so swiftly that even the hot
+blood of our fiery Cymrian had neither time nor excuse to rise to the
+boiling-point. I recalled the scene in the Parliament House, when the
+replies to the King's message, which had been sent by each chief town,
+were read by the Speaker: the grave indignation of some,--the somewhat
+bombastic protestations of others,--the question put of submission or
+war,--the shout of "_Guerra! guerra!_" ringing too loud, methought, to
+be good metal; the "_Suoni la tromba_" at that night's theatre,--the
+digging at the fortifications,--women carrying huge stones,--men more
+willing to shout for them than to do their own share,--Capuchin friars
+digging with the best,--finally, the wild dance of men, women, cowled
+and bearded monks, all together, brandishing their spades and shovels in
+cadence to the military band. With this came to me the mild smile and
+doubtful shake of the head of the good Admiral Baudin, and his prophetic
+remark,--"I have seen much fighting in various parts of the world; and
+if these men mean to fight, I cannot comprehend them."
+
+While this mental diorama was unrolling, even Sicilian laziness had time
+to reach the shore; and passing by a rough mass of rocks, where our
+second cutter had once run too close for comfort, and the Friedland's
+launch had upset and lost two men, we at length landed close to the city
+gate. A custom-house officer pounced on us for a fee, notwithstanding
+our examination on first landing, and ("_uno avulso, non deficit aureus
+alter_,") at the city gate, not thirty yards distant, a third repeated
+the demand, equivalent to "Your money or your keys." A capital breakfast
+at the Trinacria hotel was the fitting conclusion to these oft-recorded
+troubles, and the gratifying news that the Viceroy had just left the
+island for Naples obviated the necessity of a formal visit, and left us
+free to enjoy the notabilities of Palermo.
+
+The plan of this beautiful city is very simple, being a tolerably
+accurate square, surrounded by walls, of which the northern face skirts
+the sea, and the southern faces the head of the lovely valley in which
+the city stands,--the Golden Shell. Two perfectly straight streets,
+intersecting in a small, but highly ornamented _piazza_, traverse
+the city. The Toledo, or Via Cassaro,--for it bears both these
+designations,--runs from the sea to the Monreale gate, close to which is
+the Royal Palace, and the Cathedral square opens from this street. The
+Via Macqueda contains few buildings of interest except the University.
+Between the wall and the sea runs the magnificent Marina, a more
+beautiful promenade than even the Villa Reale of Naples, having on the
+right the low but picturesque headland of Bagaria, while on the left
+rise the all but perpendicular rocks of Monte Pellegrino, once the
+impregnable mountain-throne of Hamilcar Barcas, and later the spot where
+in a rude cavern, now sheeted with marble and jasper, "from all the
+youth of Sicily, Saint Rosalie retired to God." The handicraftsmen of
+Palermo still occupy almost exclusively the streets named after their
+trades,--an indication of immobility rarely to be met with nowadays,
+though Rome displays it in a minor degree.
+
+We first visited the University Museum. Numerous pictures, far beyond
+the ordinary degree of badness, occupy the upper rooms, where the only
+object of interest is a very fine and well-preserved bronze of Hercules
+and the Pompeian Fawn, half life-size. But far beyond all else in
+artistic importance are the _metopes_ from Selinuntium, which, though
+much damaged, show marks of high excellence. They are of clearly
+different dates, though all very archaic. The oldest represent Perseus
+cutting off the Gorgon's head, and Hercules killing two thieves. Perseus
+has the calm, sleepy look of a Hindoo god,--while Gorgon's head, with
+goggle eyes and protruding tongue, resembles a Mexican idol. Hercules
+and the thieves have more of an Egyptian character. The material of
+these bas-reliefs is coarse limestone; and in the _metopes_ on the
+opposite wall, which are clearly of later date, recourse has been had to
+a curious method of obtaining delicacy in the female forms: the faces,
+hands, and feet, which alone are visible from among the drapery, are
+formed of fine marble. An Actæon torn by his dogs is much corroded by
+sea air, but displays great nobleness of attitude. The vigor in the left
+arm, which has throttled one of the dogs, can hardly be surpassed. A
+portion of the _cella_, of one of the temples has been removed hither,
+and its brilliant polychromy is sufficient to decide the argument as to
+the existence of the practice, if, indeed, that point be yet in doubt.
+But it seems that the non-colorists have relinquished the parallel of
+architecture, which, be it observed, they formerly defended obstinately,
+and have now intrenched themselves in the citadel of sculpture,
+intending to hold it against all evidence. The only other object of much
+interest was a Pompeian fresco, representing two actors, whose attitudes
+and masks are so strikingly adapted to express the first scene of the
+"Heautontimorumenos," between Menalcas and Chremes, that it seems
+scarcely doubtful that this is actually the subject of the painting.
+
+Near the upper end of the Toledo the Cathedral is situated, not very
+favorably for effect, as only the eastern side is sufficiently free from
+buildings. It is a noble pile: Northern power and piety expressed by
+the agency of Southern and Arabic workmen, and somewhat affected by the
+nationality of the artificer.
+
+The stones are fretted and carved more elaborately than those of any
+French or English cathedral, but entirely in arabesques and diapering of
+low relief, so that the spectator misses with regret the solemn rows of
+saints and patriarchs that enrich the portals of our Gothic minsters.
+These, however, are reflections of a subsequent date, and did not
+interfere to mar the pleasure with which we sat in front of the southern
+door, beneath the two lofty arches, which, springing from the entrance
+tower, span the street high above our heads. For some time we sat,
+unwilling to change and it might be impair our sensations by passing
+inwards. Our reluctance was but too well founded: the whole interior has
+been modernized in detestable Renaissance style, and in place of highest
+honor, above the central doorway, sits in tight-buttoned uniform a
+fitting idol for so ugly a shrine, the double-chinned effigy of the
+reigning monarch. We turned for comfort to a chapel on the right, where
+in four sarcophagi of porphyry are deposited the remains of the Northern
+sovereigns. The bones of Roger repose in a plain oblong chest with a
+steep ridged roof, and the other three coffins, though somewhat more
+elaborate, are yet simple and massive, as befits their destined use. The
+inscription, on that of Constantia is touching, as it tells that she
+was "the last of the great race of Northmen,"--the good old bad Latin
+"Northmannorum" giving the proper title, which we have injudiciously
+softened into Norman.
+
+In a small _piazza_ near the intersection of the main streets is a
+Dominican church, whose black and white inlaid marbles are amazing in
+their elaborateness, astounding in their preposterously bad taste. They
+transcend description, and can be faintly imagined only by such as
+know a huge marble nightmare of waves and clouds in the south aisle
+of Westminster Abbey. This church contains one good painting of a
+triumphant experiment conducted by some Dominican friars in the presence
+of sundry Ulemas and Muftis: a Koran and Bible have been thrown into a
+blazing fire, and the result is as satisfactory as that of Hercules's
+death-grapple with the Nemean lion. To be sure, lions and Turks are
+not painters. The Martorana church is rich in gold-grounded mosaics,
+resembling Saint Mark's at Venice. One represents the coronation of
+Roger Guiscard by the Saviour: very curious, as showing at how early a
+date the invaders laid claim to the Right Divine. The inscription is
+also noteworthy: _Rogerius Rex_, in the Latin tongue, but the Greek
+characters, thus: [Greek: ROGERIOS RAEX].[a] The Renaissance has invaded
+this church too, and flowery inlaid marbles with gilded scroll balconies
+(it is a nuns' church) mingle with the bold discs and oblong panels of
+porphyry and green serpentine. In the nave of the small church sat in
+comfortable arm-chairs two monks, one black, one white, leaning their
+ears to gilded grates and receiving the confessions of the sisterhood.
+The paschal candlestick stood in front of the high altar,--Ascension-Day
+not being past; but here, as in other Sicilian churches, it assumes the
+form of a seven-branched tree, generally of bronze bedecked with gold.
+These same nuns' balconies are not confined to the interior of churches,
+but form a distinct and picturesque feature in the long line of the
+Toledo. Projecting in a bold curve whose undersurface is gaily painted
+in arabesque, their thick bars and narrow openings nevertheless leave a
+gloomy impression on the mind, while they add to the Oriental character
+of the city. A somewhat unsuccessful effort to identify the church whose
+bell gave signal for the Sicilian Vespers closed our day's labor. The
+spot is clearly defined and easily recognizable, and a small church, now
+shut up, occupies the site. So far, so good; but the cloister which is
+distinctly mentioned cannot now be found, nor is it easy to perceive
+where it could have stood. Perhaps some change in the neighboring harbor
+may have swept it away.
+
+[Footnote a: The _e_ in _Rex_ is here rendered by the Greek eta,--a
+proof that the pronunciation of that letter was similar to that of our
+long _a_, and not like our double _ee_; although the modern Greeks
+support the latter pronunciation.]
+
+_23d April_. To those who take interest in the efforts of that age when
+Christianity, devoid at once of artistic knowledge and of mechanical,
+strove from among the material and moral wreck of Paganism to create for
+herself a school of Art which should, despite of all short-comings, be
+the exponent of those high feelings which inspired her mind, the Royal
+Chapel of Palermo offers a delightful object of study. Less massive than
+the gloomily grand basilicas of Rome and Ravenna, surpassed in single
+features by other churches, as, for instance, the Cathedral of Salerno,
+it contains, nevertheless, such perfect specimens of Christian Art in
+its various phases, that this one small building seems a hand-book in
+itself. The floor and walls are covered with excellently preserved and
+highly polished Alexandrine mosaic, flowing in varied convolutions of
+green and gold and red round the broad crimson and gray shields, whose
+circular forms recall the mighty monolith columns of porphyry and
+granite which yielded such noble spoils. The honey-combed pendentines of
+the ceiling must be due to Arab workmen; their like may yet be found in
+Cairo or the Alhambra; while below the narrow windows, and extending
+downwards to the marble panelling, runs a grand series of gold-grounded
+mosaics, their subjects taken from the Old and New Testaments. But
+far older than even these are the colossal grim circles of saints and
+apostles who cling to the roof of the choir, and yield in size only to
+the awful figures of the Saviour, the Virgin, and Saint Paul, enthroned
+in the _apsides_ of the nave and aisles. The _ambones_, though not
+so large as those of Salerno, are very gorgeous; and the paschal
+candlestick, here at all events in its usual shape, is of deeply-carved
+marble, and displays an incongruous assemblage of youths, maidens,
+beasts, birds, and bishops, hanging each from other like a curtain of
+swarming bees.
+
+Service, which had been going on in the choir when we arrived, had now
+ceased; but from the crypt below arose a chant so harsh, vibratory,
+and void of solemnity, that we were irresistibly reminded of the
+subterranean chorus of demons in "Robert le Diable." Two of us ventured
+below and discovered the chapter, all robed in purple, sitting round a
+pall with a presumable coffin underneath. Little of reverence did they
+show,--it is true, the death was not recent, the service being merely
+commemorative, as we afterwards learned,--and as the procession shortly
+afterwards emerged and proceeded down the chapel, the unwashed,
+unshaven, and sensual countenances of some of highest rank among them
+gave small reason to believe that they could feel much reverence on any
+subject whatever.
+
+The Palace itself is as tedious as any other palace: the Pompeian room
+follows the Louis Quinze, and is in turn followed by the Chinese, till,
+for our comfort, we emerged into one large square hall, whose stiff
+mosaics of archers killing stags, peacocks feeding at the foot of
+willow-pattern trees, date from the time of Roger. Another wearisome
+series of rooms succeeded, which we were bound to traverse in search of
+a bronze ram of old Greek workmanship, brought from Syracuse. The work
+is very good and well-preserved; in fact, no part is injured, save the
+tail and a hind leg, whose loss the _custode_ ascribed to the villains
+of the late revolution. He even charged them with the destruction of
+another similar statue melted into bullets, if we may believe his
+incredible tale. A pavilion over the Monreale gate commands a view right
+down the Toledo to the sea.
+
+The drive to Monreale is a continued ascent along the skirts of a
+limestone rock, whose precipices are thickly planted at every foothold
+with olive, Indian fig, and aloe. The valley, as it spread below our
+gaze, appeared one huge carpet of heavy-fruited orange-trees, save where
+at times a rent in the web left visible the bluish blades of wheat, or
+the intense green of a flax-plantation.
+
+Monreale is a mere country-town, containing no object of interest, save
+the Cathedral. This is a noble basilica, grandly proportioned, the nave
+and aisles of which are separated by monolith pillars, mostly of gray
+granite, and some few of cipollino and other marbles, the spoils, no
+doubt, of the ancient Panormus. Above the cornice the walls are entirely
+sheeted with golden mosaics, representing, as usual, Scripture history.
+The series which begins, like the speech of the Intendant in "Les
+Plaideurs," "_Avant la creation du monde_" complies with the wish of
+(the judge?) by going on to the Deluge, in a train of singularly meagre
+figures, most haggard of whom is Cain, here represented (as in the Campo
+Santo of Pisa) receiving his death accidentally from the hand of Lamech.
+In the passage of the beasts to the Ark, Noah coaxes the lion on board,
+and in the next compartment the patriarch shoves the king of beasts down
+the plank in a most ludicrous fashion. The mosaics of the New Testament
+are less archaic, though still very old, too old to be infected by the
+tricks of later Romanism,--such, for instance, as introducing the Virgin
+among the receivers of the mysterious gift of tongues. Saint Paul, both
+here and at the Royal Chapel, appears under the earlier type adopted
+whether by fancy or tradition to represent that saint,--that is, a
+short, strong figure, with the head large, and almost devoid of hair,
+except at the sides, and one dark lock in the centre of the massive
+forehead. Over the western door-way is a mosaic of the Virgin with the
+following leonine and loyal distich beneath it:--
+
+ "Sponsa suae prolis, O Stella puerpera Solis,
+ Pro cunctis ora, sed plus pro rege labora!"
+
+There is an ample square cloister, with twenty-seven pairs of columns on
+each side, once richly decorated in mosaics like those of San Giovanni
+Laterano and San Paolo at Rome, but even more dilapidated than either
+of these latter. Indeed, so entirely non-existent is the mosaic, the
+twisted and channelled columns showing nothing but places "where the
+pasty is not," that the more probable solution may be that want of funds
+or of devotion has left the work unfinished. On the capital of one
+column may be seen the figure of William the Good, who founded the
+Cathedral in 1170. He bears in his arms a model of the building, which
+here appears with circular-headed windows instead of the lanceolated
+Gothic now existing.
+
+In, perhaps, the very loveliest of the many lovely sites around Palermo
+stands the small Moorish building of La Ziza. Moorish it may be called;
+for the main feature of the edifice, a hall with a fountain trickling
+along a channel in the pavements, is clearly due to the Saracens. These,
+however, had availed themselves of Roman columns to support their
+fretted ceilings, once gorgeous in color, but now desecrated with
+whitewash. The Norman invaders have added their never-failing gold
+mosaic,--while the Spaniard, after painting sundry scenes from Ovid's
+"Metamorphoses" in a dreadfully barocco style, calls upon the world,
+in those magniloquent phrases which somehow belong as of right to your
+mighty Don, to admire the exquisite commingling of modern art with
+antique beauty, to which his _fiat_ has given birth.
+
+Somewhat of Spain, perhaps, might also be traced in an incident,
+promisingly romantic, but coming to a most lame and impotent conclusion,
+which occurred this afternoon to one of our party. While busily
+sketching, in the Martorana church, the previously mentioned mosaic of
+Roger's coronation, a hand protruded from the gilded lattice above,
+and a small scroll was dropped, not precisely at the feet, but in the
+neighborhood of the amazed artist. Sharp eyes, however, must be at work;
+for, ere he could appropriate this mysterious waif on Love's manor, a
+side-door opened, and an attendant in the very unpoetical garb of a
+carpenter bore off the prize. It maybe presumed that the next confessor
+who occupied an arm-chair in the church would have somewhat of novelty
+to enliven what some priests have stated to be the most wearisome of the
+work, namely, the hearing of confessions in a nunnery.
+
+This evening was passed in the house of the British Consul, who, in
+amusing recognition of our nationalities, comprising, as they did,
+both branches of the Anglo-Saxon race, treated us to Lemann's
+captain's-biscuit and Boston crackers. Notwithstanding the interesting
+conversation of our host, who had not allowed a residence of many years
+in a mind-rusting city to impair his love of literature, a love dating
+from the time when Praed edited the "Etonian," and Metius Tarpa
+contributed to the "College Magazine," we were obliged to leave early.
+Our arrangements for a very early start next morning were completed, and
+a thirty miles' ride lay before us.
+
+To save further allusion to them, it may be as well to describe these
+arrangements, which were made for us by Signor Ragusa, landlord of the
+Trinacria hotel. A guide, Giuseppe Agnello by name, took upon himself
+the whole responsibility of our board, lodging, and travelling, at a
+fixed rate of forty-two (?) _carlini_ a head,--which sum, including his
+_buonamano_ and return voyage from Syracuse or Messina, amounted to
+about twenty francs each _per diem_. For this sum he furnished us with
+good mules, a hearty breakfast at daybreak, cold meat and hard eggs at
+noon, and a plentiful dinner or supper, call it which you choose, on
+arriving at our night's quarters. Agnello himself was cook, and proved
+a very tolerable one. This is essential; for Spanish custom prevails
+in the inns, whose host considers his duty accomplished when he has
+provided ample stabling for the mules and dubious bedding for his biped
+guests.
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PROFESSOR'S STORY.
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+PHYSIOLOGICAL.
+
+
+If Master Bernard felt a natural gratitude to his young pupil for saving
+him from an imminent peril, he was in a state of infinite perplexity
+to know why he should have needed such aid. He, an active, muscular,
+courageous, adventurous young fellow, with a stick in his hand, ready to
+hold down the Old Serpent himself, if he had come in his way, to stand
+still, staring into those two eyes, until they came up close to him,
+and the strange, terrible sound seemed to freeze him stiff where he
+stood,--what was the meaning of it? Again, what was the influence this
+girl had exerted, under which the venomous creature had collapsed in
+such a sudden way? Whether he had been awake or dreaming he did not feel
+quite sure. He knew he had gone up The Mountain, at any rate; he knew he
+had come down The Mountain with the girl walking just before him;--there
+was no forgetting her figure, as she walked on in silence, her braided
+locks falling a little, for want of the lost hair-pin, perhaps, and
+looking like a wreathing coil of--Shame on such fancies!--to wrong that
+supreme crowning gift of abounding Nature, a rush of shining black hair,
+that, shaken loose, would cloud her all round, like Godiva, from brow to
+instep! He was sure he had sat down before the fissure or cave. He was
+sure that he was led softly away from the place, and that it was Elsie
+who had led him. There was the hair-pin to show that so far it was not a
+dream. But between these recollections came a strange confusion; and the
+more the master thought, the more he was perplexed to know whether she
+had waked him, sleeping, as he sat on the stone, from some frightful
+dream, such as may come in a very brief slumber, or whether she had
+bewitched him into a trance with those strange eyes of hers, or whether
+it was all true, and he must solve its problem as he best might.
+
+There was another recollection connected with this mountain adventure.
+As they approached the mansion-house, they met a young man, whom Mr.
+Bernard remembered having seen once at least before, and whom he had
+heard of as a cousin of the young girl. As Cousin Richard Venner, the
+person in question, passed them, he took the measure, so to speak, of
+Mr. Bernard, with a look so piercing, so exhausting, so practised, so
+profoundly suspicious, that the young master felt in an instant that he
+had an enemy in this handsome youth,--an enemy, too, who was like to be
+subtle and dangerous.
+
+Mr. Bernard had made up his mind, that, come what might, enemy or no
+enemy, live or die, he would solve the mystery of Elsie Venner, sooner
+or later. He was not a man to be frightened out of his resolution by a
+scowl, or a stiletto, or any unknown means of mischief, of which a whole
+armory was hinted at in that passing look Dick Venner had given him.
+Indeed, like most adventurous young persons, he found a kind of charm
+in feeling that there might be some dangers in the way of his
+investigations. Some rumors which had reached him about the supposed
+suitor of Elsie Venner, who was thought to be a desperate kind of
+fellow, and whom some believed to be an unscrupulous adventurer, added
+a curious, romantic kind of interest to the course of physiological and
+psychological inquiries he was about instituting.
+
+The afternoon on The Mountain was still uppermost in his mind. Of course
+he knew the common stories about fascination. He had once been himself
+an eyewitness of the charming of a small bird by one of our common
+harmless serpents. Whether a human being could be reached by this
+subtile agency, he had been skeptical, notwithstanding the mysterious
+relation generally felt to exist between man and this creature, "cursed
+above all cattle and above every beast of the field,"--a relation which
+some interpret as the fruit of the curse, and others hold to be so
+instinctive that this animal has been for that reason adopted as the
+natural symbol of evil. There was another solution, however, supplied
+him by his professional reading. The curious work of Mr. Braid of
+Manchester had made him familiar with the phenomena of a state allied to
+that produced by animal magnetism, and called by that writer by the name
+of _hypnotism_. He found, by referring to his note-book, the statement
+was, that, by fixing the eyes on a _bright object_ so placed as _to
+produce a strain_ upon the eyes and eyelids, and to maintain _a steady
+fixed stare_, there comes on in a few seconds a very singular condition,
+characterized by _muscular rigidity_ and _inability to move_, with a
+strange _exaltation of most of the senses_, and _generally_ a closure of
+the eyelids,--this condition being followed by _torpor_.
+
+Now this statement of Mr. Braid's, well known to the scientific world,
+and the truth of which had been confirmed by Mr. Bernard in certain
+experiments he had instituted, as it has been by many other
+experimenters, went far to explain the strange impressions, of which,
+waking or dreaming, he had certainly been the subject. His nervous
+system had been in a high state of exaltation at the time. He remembered
+how the little noises that made rings of sound in the silence of the
+woods, like pebbles dropped in still waters, had reached his inner
+consciousness. He remembered that singular sensation in the roots of the
+hair, when he came on the traces of the girl's presence, reminding him
+of a line in a certain poem which he had read lately with a new and
+peculiar interest. He even recalled a curious evidence of exalted
+sensibility and irritability, in the twitching of the minute muscles of
+the internal ear at every unexpected sound, producing an odd little
+snap in the middle of the head, that proved to him he was getting very
+nervous.
+
+The next thing was to find out whether it were possible that the
+venomous creature's eyes should have served the purpose of Mr. Braid's
+"bright object" held very close to the person experimented on, or
+whether they had any special power which could be made the subject of
+exact observation.
+
+For this purpose Mr. Bernard considered it necessary to get a live
+_crotalus_ or two into his possession, if this were possible. On
+inquiry, he found that there was a certain family living far up the
+mountain-side, not a mile from the ledge, the members of which were said
+to have taken these creatures occasionally, and not to be in any danger,
+or at least in any fear, of being injured by them. He applied to these
+people, and offered a reward sufficient to set them at work to capture
+some of these animals, if such a thing were possible.
+
+A few days after this, a dark, gypsy-looking woman presented herself at
+his door. She held up her apron as if it contained something precious in
+the bag she made with it.
+
+"Y'wanted some rattlers," said the woman. "Here they be."
+
+She opened her apron and showed a coil of rattlesnakes lying very
+peaceably in its fold. They lifted their heads up, as if they wanted to
+see what was going on, but showed no sign of anger.
+
+"Are you crazy?" said Mr. Bernard. "You're dead in an hour, if one of
+those creatures strikes you!"
+
+He drew back a little, as he spoke; it might be simple disgust; it might
+be fear; it might be what we call antipathy, which is different from
+either, and which will sometimes show itself in paleness, and even
+faintness, produced by objects perfectly harmless and not in themselves
+offensive to any sense.
+
+"Lord bless you," said the woman, "rattlers never touches our folks. I'd
+jest 'z lieves handle them creaturs as so many striped snakes."
+
+So saying, she put their heads down with her hand, and packed them
+together in her apron as if they had been bits of cart-rope.
+
+Mr. Bernard had never heard of the power, or, at least, the belief in
+the possession of a power by certain persons, which enables them to
+handle these frightful reptiles with perfect impunity. The fact,
+however, is well known to others, and more especially to a very
+distinguished Professor in one of the leading institutions of the great
+city of the land, whose experiences in the neighborhood of Graylock, as
+he will doubtless inform the curious, were very much like those of the
+young master.
+
+Mr. Bernard had a wired cage ready for his formidable captives, and
+studied their habits and expression with a strange sort of interest.
+What did the Creator mean to signify, when he made such shapes of
+horror, and, as if he had doubly cursed this envenomed wretch, had set
+a mark upon him and sent him forth, the Cain of the brotherhood of
+serpents? It was a very curious fact that the first train of thoughts
+Mr. Bernard's small menagerie suggested to him was the grave, though
+somewhat worn, subject of the origin of evil. There is now to be seen in
+a tall glass jar, in the Museum of Comparative Anatomy at Cantabridge
+in the territory of the Massachusetts, a huge _crotalus_, of a species
+which grows to more frightful dimensions than our own, under the hotter
+skies of South America. Look at it, ye who would know what is the
+tolerance, the freedom from prejudice, which can suffer such an
+incarnation of all that is devilish to lie unharmed in the cradle of
+Nature! Learn, too, that there are many things in this world which we
+are warned to shun, and are even suffered to slay, if need be, but which
+we must not hate, unless we would hate what God loves and cares for.
+
+Whatever fascination the creature might exercise in his native haunts,
+Mr. Bernard found himself not in the least nervous or affected in any
+way while looking at his caged reptiles. When their cage was shaken,
+they would lift their heads and spring their rattles; but the sound was
+by no means so formidable to listen to as when it reverberated among
+the chasms of the echoing rocks. The expression of the creatures was
+watchful, still, grave, passionless, fate-like, suggesting a cold
+malignity that seemed to be waiting for its opportunity. Their awful,
+deep-cut mouths were sternly closed over the long hollow fangs that
+rested their roots against the swollen poison-bag, where the venom had
+been boarding up ever since the last stroke had emptied it. They never
+winked, for ophidians have no movable eyelids, but kept up that awful
+fixed stare which made the two _unwinking_ gladiators the survivors of
+twenty pairs matched by one of the Roman Emperors, as Pliny tells us, in
+his "Natural History." But their eyes did not flash, as he had expected
+to see them. They were of a pale-golden or straw color, horrible to look
+into, with their stony calmness, their pitiless indifference, hardly
+enlivened by the almost imperceptible vertical slit of the pupil,
+through which Death seemed to be looking out like the archer behind the
+long narrow loop-hole in a blank turret-wall. Possibly their pupils
+might open wide enough in the dark hole of the rock to let the glare
+of the back part of the eye show, as we often see it in cats and other
+animals. On the whole, the caged reptiles, horrid as they were, were yet
+very different from his recollections of what he had seen or dreamed
+he saw at the cavern. These looked dangerous enough, but yet quiet. A
+treacherous stillness, however,--as the unfortunate New York physician
+found, when he put his foot out to wake up the torpid creature, and
+instantly the fang flashed through his boot, carrying the poison into
+his blood, and death with it.
+
+Mr. Bernard kept these strange creatures, and watched all their habits
+with a natural curiosity. In any collection of animals the venomous
+beasts are looked at with the greatest interest, just as the greatest
+villains are most run after by the unknown public. Nobody troubles
+himself for a common striped snake or a petty thief, but a _cobra_ or a
+wife-killer is a centre of attraction to all eyes. These captives did
+very little to earn their living; but, on the other hand, their living
+was not expensive, their diet being nothing but air, _au nature_. Months
+and months these creatures will live and seem to thrive well enough,
+as any showman who has them in his menagerie will testify, though they
+never touch anything to eat or drink.
+
+In the mean time Mr. Bernard had become very curious about a class of
+subjects not treated of in any detail in those text-books accessible in
+most country-towns, to the exclusion of the more special treatises, and
+especially the rare and ancient works found on the shelves of the larger
+city-libraries. He was on a visit to old Dr. Kittredge one day, having
+been asked by him to call in for a few moments as soon as convenient.
+The Doctor smiled good-humoredly when he asked him if he had an
+extensive collection of medical works.
+
+"Why, no," said the old Doctor, "I haven't got a great many printed
+books; and what I have I don't read quite as often as I might, I'm
+afraid. I read and studied in the time of it, when I was in the midst of
+the young men who were all at work with their books; but it's a mighty
+hard matter, when you go off alone into the country, to keep up with
+all that's going on in the Societies and the Colleges. I'll tell you,
+though, Mr. Langdon, when a man that's once started right lives among
+sick folks for five-and-thirty years, as I've done, if he hasn't got a
+library of five-and-thirty volumes bound up in his head at the end of
+that time, he'd better stop driving round and sell his horse and sulky.
+I know the better part of the families within a dozen miles' ride. I
+know the families that have a way of living through everything, and I
+know the other set that have the trick of dying without any kind of
+reason for it. I know the years when the fevers and dysenteries are in
+earnest, and when they're only making believe. I know the folks that
+think they're dying as soon as they're sick, and the folks that never
+find out they're sick till they're dead. I don't want to undervalue your
+science, Mr. Langdon. There are things I never learned, because they
+came in after my day, and I am very glad to send my patients to those
+that do know them, when I am at fault; but I know these people about
+here, fathers and mothers, and children and grandchildren, so as all the
+science in the world can't know them, without it takes time about it,
+and sees them grow up and grow old, and how the wear and tear of life
+comes to them. You can't tell a horse by driving him once, Mr. Langdon,
+nor a patient by talking half an hour with him."
+
+"Do you know much about the Venner family?" said Mr. Bernard, in a
+natural way enough, the Doctor's talk having suggested the question.
+
+The Doctor lifted his head with his accustomed movement, so as to
+command the young man through his spectacles.
+
+"I know all the families of this place and its neighborhood," he
+answered.
+
+"We have the young lady studying with us at the Institute," said Mr.
+Bernard.
+
+"I know it," the Doctor answered. "Is she a good scholar?"
+
+All this time the Doctor's eyes were fixed steadily on Mr. Bernard,
+looking through the glasses.
+
+"She is a good scholar enough, but I don't know what to make of her.
+Sometimes I think she is a little out of her head. Her father, I
+believe, is sensible enough;--what sort of a woman was her mother,
+Doctor?--I suppose, of course, you remember all about her?"
+
+"Yes, I knew her mother. She was a very lovely young woman."--The Doctor
+put his hand to his forehead and drew a long breath.--"What is there you
+notice out of the way about Elsie Venner?"
+
+"A good many things," the master answered. "She shuns all the other
+girls. She is getting a strange influence over my fellow-teacher, a
+young lady,--you know Miss Helen Darley, perhaps? I am afraid this girl
+will kill her. I never saw or heard of anything like it, in prose at
+least;--do you remember much of Coleridge's Poems, Doctor?"
+
+The good old Doctor had to plead a negative.
+
+"Well, no matter. Elsie would have been burned for a witch in old times.
+I have seen the girl look at Miss Darley when she had not the least idea
+of it, and all at once I would see her grow pale and moist, and sigh,
+and move round uneasily, and turn towards Elsie, and perhaps get up and
+go to her, or else have slight spasmodic movements that looked like
+hysterics;--do you believe in the evil eye, Doctor?"
+
+"Mr. Langdon," the Doctor said, solemnly, "there are strange things
+about Elsie Venner,--very strange things. This was what I wanted to
+speak to you about. Let me advise you all to be very patient with the
+girl, but also very careful. Her love is not to be desired, and"--he
+whispered softly--"her hate is to be dreaded. Do you think she has any
+special fancy for anybody else in the school besides Miss Darley?"
+
+Mr. Bernard could not stand the old Doctor's spectacled eyes without
+betraying a little of the feeling natural to a young man to whom a home
+question involving a possible sentiment is put suddenly.
+
+"I have suspected," he said,--"I have had a kind of feeling--that
+she--Well, come, Doctor,--I don't know that there's any use in
+disguising the matter,--I have thought Elsie Venner had rather a fancy
+for somebody else,--I mean myself."
+
+There was something so becoming in the blush with which the young man
+made this confession, and so manly, too, in the tone with which he
+spoke, so remote from any shallow vanity, such as young men who are
+incapable of love are apt to feel, when some loose tendril of a woman's
+fancy which a chance wind has blown against them twines about them
+for the want of anything better, that the old Doctor looked at him
+admiringly, and could not help thinking that it was no wonder any young
+girl should be pleased with him.
+
+"You are a man of nerve, Mr. Langdon?" said the Doctor.
+
+"I thought so till very lately," he replied. "I am not easily
+frightened, but I don't know but I might be bewitched or magnetized, or
+whatever it is when one is tied up and cannot move. I think I can find
+nerve enough, however, if there is any special use you want to put it
+to."
+
+"Let me ask you one more question, Mr. Langdon. Do you find yourself
+disposed to take a special interest in Elsie,--to fall in love with her,
+in a word? Pardon me, for I do not ask from curiosity, but a much more
+serious motive."
+
+"Elsie interests me," said the young man, "interests me strangely. She
+has a wild flavor in her character which is wholly different from that
+of any human creature I ever saw. She has marks of genius,--poetic or
+dramatic,--I hardly know which. She read a passage from Keats's 'Lamia'
+the other day, in the school-room, in such a way that I declare to you I
+thought some of the girls would faint or go into fits. Miss Darley got
+up and left the room, trembling all over. Then I pity her, she is so
+lonely. The girls are afraid of her, and she seems to have either a
+dislike or a fear of them. They have all sorts of painful stories about
+her. They give her a name that no human creature ought to bear. They say
+she hides a mark on her neck by always wearing a necklace. She is very
+graceful, you know, and they will have it that she can twist herself
+into all sorts of shapes, or tie herself in a knot, if she wants to.
+There is not one of them that will look her in the eyes. I pity the poor
+girl; but, Doctor, I do not love her. I would risk my life for her, if
+it would do her any good, but it would be in cold blood. If her hand
+touches mine, it is not a thrill of passion I feel running through me,
+but a very different emotion. Oh, Doctor! there must be something in
+that creature's blood that has killed the humanity in her. God only
+knows the mystery that has blighted such a soul in so beautiful a body!
+No, Doctor, I do not love the girl."
+
+"Mr. Langdon," said the Doctor, "you are young, and I am old. Let me
+talk to you with an old man's privilege, as an adviser. You have come to
+this country-town without suspicion, and you are moving in the midst of
+perils. There is a mystery which I must not tell you now; but I may warn
+you. Keep your eyes open and your heart shut. If, through pitying that
+girl, you ever come to love her, you are lost. If you deal carelessly
+with her, beware! This is not all. There are other eyes on you beside
+Elsie Venner's.--Do you go armed?"
+
+"I do!" said Mr. Bernard,--and he 'put his hands up' in the shape of
+fists, in such a way as to show that he was master of the natural
+weapons at any rate.
+
+The Doctor could not help smiling. But his face fell in an instant.
+
+"You may want something more than those tools to work with. Come with me
+into my sanctum."
+
+The Doctor led Mr. Bernard into a small room opening out of the study.
+It was a place such as anybody but a medical man would shiver to enter.
+There was the usual tall box with its bleached rattling tenant; there
+were jars in rows where "interesting cases" outlived the grief of widows
+and heirs in alcoholic immortality,--for your "preparation-jar" is the
+true "_monumentum aere perennius_"; there were various semipossibilities
+of minute dimensions and unpromising developments; there were shining
+instruments of evil aspect, and grim plates on the walls, and on one
+shelf by itself, accursed and apart, coiled in a long cylinder of
+spirit, a huge _crotalus_, rough-scaled, flat-headed, variegated with
+dull bands, one of which partially encircled the neck like a collar,--an
+awful wretch to look upon, with murder written all over him in horrid
+hieroglyphics. Mr. Bernard's look was riveted on this creature,--not
+fascinated certainly, for its eyes looked like white beads, being
+clouded by the action of the spirits in which it had been long
+kept,--but fixed by some indefinite sense of the renewal of a previous
+impression;--everybody knows the feeling, with its suggestion of some
+past state of existence. There was a scrap of paper on the jar with
+something written on it. He was reaching up to read it when the Doctor
+touched him lightly.
+
+"Look here, Mr. Langdon!" he said, with a certain vivacity of manner, as
+if wishing to call away his attention,--"this is my armory."
+
+The Doctor threw open the door of a small cabinet, where were disposed
+in artistic patterns various weapons of offence and defence,--for he was
+a virtuoso in his way, and by the side of the implements of the art of
+healing had pleased himself with displaying a collection of those other
+instruments, the use of which renders them necessary.
+
+"See which of these weapons you would like best to carry about you,"
+said the Doctor.
+
+Mr. Bernard laughed, and looked at the Doctor as if he half doubted
+whether he was in earnest.
+
+"This looks dangerous enough," he said,--"for the man that carries it,
+at least."
+
+He took down one of the prohibited Spanish daggers or knives which a
+traveller may occasionally get hold of and smuggle out of the country.
+The blade was broad, trowel-like, but the point drawn out several
+inches, so as to look like a skewer.
+
+"This must be a jealous bull-fighter's weapon," he said, and put it back
+in its place.
+
+Then he took down an ancient-looking broad-bladed dagger, with a complex
+aspect about it, as if it had some kind of mechanism connected with it.
+
+"Take care!" said the Doctor; "there is a trick to that dagger."
+
+He took it and touched a spring. The dagger split suddenly into three
+blades, as when one separates the forefinger and the ring-finger from
+the middle one. The outside blades were sharp on their outer edge. The
+stab was to be made with the dagger shut, then the spring touched and
+the split blades withdrawn.
+
+Mr. Bernard replaced it, saying, that it would have served for side-arm
+to old Suwarrow, who told his men to work their bayonets back and
+forward when they pinned a Turk, but to wriggle them about in the wound
+when they stabbed a Frenchman.
+
+"Here," said the Doctor, "this is the thing you want."
+
+He took down a much more modern and familiar implement,--a small,
+beautifully finished revolver.
+
+"I want you to carry this," he said; "and more than that, I want you to
+practise with it often, as for amusement, but so that it may be seen and
+understood that you are apt to have a pistol about you. Pistol-shooting
+is pleasant sport enough, and there is no reason why you should not
+practise it like other young fellows. And now," the Doctor said, "I have
+one other weapon to give you."
+
+He took a small piece of parchment and shook a white powder into it from
+one of his medicine-jars. The jar was marked with the name of a mineral
+salt, of a nature to have been serviceable in case of sudden illness in
+the time of the Borgias. The Doctor folded the parchment carefully and
+marked the Latin name of the powder upon it.
+
+"Here," he said, handing it to Mr. Bernard,--"you see what it is, and
+you know what service it can render. Keep these two protectors about
+your person day and night; they will not harm you, and you may want one
+or the other or both before you think of it."
+
+Mr. Bernard thought it was very odd, and not very old-gentleman like,
+to be fitting him out for treason, stratagem, and spoils, in this way.
+There was no harm, however, in carrying a doctor's powder in his pocket,
+or in amusing himself with shooting at a mark, as he had often done
+before. If the old gentleman had these fancies, it was as well to humor
+him. So he thanked old Doctor Kittredge, and shook his hand warmly as he
+left him.
+
+"The fellow's hand did not tremble, nor his color change," the Doctor
+said, as he watched him walking away. "He is one of the right sort."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+EPISTOLARY.
+
+
+_Mr. Langdon to the Professor._
+
+MY DEAR PROFESSOR,--
+
+You were kind enough to promise me that you would assist me in any
+professional or scientific investigations in which I might become
+engaged. I have of late become deeply interested in a class of subjects
+which present peculiar difficulty, and I must exercise the privilege of
+questioning you on some points upon which I desire information I cannot
+otherwise obtain. I would not trouble you, if I could find any person or
+books competent to enlighten me on some of these singular matters which
+have so excited me. The leading doctor here is a shrewd, sensible man,
+but not versed in the curiosities of medical literature.
+
+I proceed, with your leave, to ask a considerable number of
+questions,--hoping to get answers to some of them, at least.
+
+Is there any evidence that human beings can be infected or wrought
+upon by poisons, or otherwise, so that they shall manifest any of
+the peculiarities belonging to beings of a lower nature? Can such
+peculiarities be transmitted by inheritance? Is there anything to
+countenance the stories, long and widely current, about the "evil eye"?
+or is it a mere fancy that such a power belongs to any human being? Have
+you any personal experience as to the power of fascination said to be
+exercised by certain animals? What can you make of those circumstantial
+statements we have seen in the papers of children forming mysterious
+friendships with ophidians of different species, sharing their food with
+them, and seeming to be under some subtile influence exercised by those
+creatures? Have you read, critically, Coleridge's poem of "Christabel,"
+and Keats's "Lamia"? If so, can you understand them, or find any
+physiological foundation for the story of either?
+
+There is another set of questions of a different nature I should like to
+ask, but it is hardly fair to put so many on a single sheet. There
+is one, however, you must answer. Do you think there may be
+predispositions, inherited or ingrafted, but at any rate constitutional,
+which shall take out certain apparently voluntary determinations
+from the control of the will, and leave them as free from moral
+responsibility as the instincts of the lower animals? Do you not think
+there may be a _crime_ which is not a _sin_?
+
+Pardon me, my dear Sir, for troubling you with such a list of notes of
+interrogation. There are some _very strange_ things going on here in
+this place, country-town as it is. Country-life is apt to be dull; but
+when it once gets going, it beats the city hollow, because it gives its
+whole mind to what it is about. These rural sinners make terrible work
+with the middle of the Decalogue, when they get started. However, I hope
+I shall live through my year's school-keeping without catastrophes,
+though there are queer doings about me which puzzle me and might scare
+some people. If anything _should_ happen, you will be one of the first
+to hear of it, no doubt. But I trust not to help out the editors of the
+"Rockland Weekly Universe" with an obituary of the late lamented, who
+signed himself in life
+
+Your friend and pupil,
+
+BERNARD C. LANGDON.
+
+
+_The Professor to Mr. Langdon._
+
+MY DEAR MR. LANGDON,--
+
+I do not wonder that you find no answer from your country friends to the
+curious questions you put. They belong to that middle region between
+science and poetry which sensible men, as they are called, are very shy
+of meddling with. Some people think that truth and gold are always to be
+washed for; but the wiser sort are of opinion, that, unless there are so
+many grains to the peck of sand or nonsense respectively, it does not
+pay to wash for either, as long as one can find anything else to do. I
+don't doubt there is some truth in the phenomena of animal magnetism,
+for instance; but when you ask me to cradle for it, I tell you that
+the hysteric girls cheat so, and the professionals are such a set of
+pickpockets, that I can do something better than hunt for the grains of
+truth among their tricks and lies. Do you remember what I used to say in
+my lectures?--or were you asleep just then, or cutting your initials on
+the rail? (You see I can ask questions, my young friend.) _Leverage_ is
+everything,--was what I used to say;--don't begin to pry till you have
+got the long arm on your side.
+
+To please you, and satisfy your doubts as far as possible, I have looked
+into the old books,--into Schenckius and Turner and Kenelm Digby and the
+rest, where I have found plenty of curious stories which you must take
+for what they are worth.
+
+Your first question I can answer in the affirmative upon pretty good
+authority. Mizaldus tells, in his "Memorabilia," the well-known story
+of the girl fed on poisons, who was sent by the king of the Indies
+to Alexander the Great. "When Aristotle saw her eyes _sparkling and
+snapping like those of serpents_, he said, 'Look out for yourself,
+Alexander! this is a dangerous companion for you!'"--and sure enough,
+the young lady proved to be a very unsafe person to her friends.
+Cardanus gets a story from Avicenna, of a certain man bit by a serpent,
+who recovered of his bite, the snake dying therefrom. This man
+afterwards had a daughter whom no venomous serpent could harm, though
+_she had a fatal power over them_.
+
+I suppose you may remember the statements of old authors about
+_lycanthropy_, the disease in which men took on the nature and aspect of
+wolves. Aëtius and Paulus, both men of authority, describe it. Altomaris
+gives a horrid case; and Fincelius mentions one occurring as late as
+1541, the subject of which was captured, still _insisting that he was a
+wolf_, only that the hair of his hide was turned in! _Versipelles_, it
+may be remembered, was the Latin name for these "were-wolves."
+
+As for the cases where rabid persons have barked and bit like dogs,
+there are plenty of such on record.
+
+More singular, or at least more rare, is the account given by Andreas
+Baccius, of a man who was struck in the hand by a cock, with his beak,
+and who died on the third day thereafter, looking for all the world
+_like a fighting-cock_, to the great horror of the spectators.
+
+As to impressions transmitted _at a very early period of existence_,
+every one knows the story of King James's fear of a naked sword and the
+way it is accounted for. Sir Kenelm Digby says,--"I remember when he
+dubbed me Knight, in the ceremony of putting the point of a naked sword
+upon my shoulder, he could not endure to look upon it, but turned his
+face another way, insomuch, that, in lieu of touching my shoulder, he
+had almost thrust the point into my eyes, had not the Duke of Buckingham
+guided his hand aright." It is he, too, who tells the story of the
+_mulberry mark_ upon the neck of a certain lady of high condition, which
+"every year, in mulberry season, did swell, grow big, and itch." And
+Gaffarel mentions the case of a girl born with the figure of a _fish_ on
+one of her limbs, of which the wonder was, that, when the girl did eat
+fish, this mark put her to sensible pain. But there is no end to cases
+of this kind, and I could give some of recent date, if necessary,
+lending a certain plausibility at least to the doctrine of transmitted
+impressions.
+
+I never saw a distinct case of _evil eye_, though I have seen eyes so
+bad that they might produce strange effects on very sensitive natures.
+But the belief in it under various names, fascination, _jettatura_,
+etc., is so permanent and universal, from Egypt to Italy, and from the
+days of Solomon to those of Ferdinand of Naples, that there must be some
+_peculiarity_, to say the least, on which the opinion is based. There is
+very strong evidence that some such power is exercised by certain of the
+lower animals. Thus, it is stated on good authority that "almost every
+animal becomes panic-struck at the sight of the _rattlesnake_, and seems
+at once deprived of the power of motion, or the exercise of its usual
+instinct of self-preservation." Other serpents seem to share this power
+of fascination, as the _Cobra_ and the _Bucephalus Capensis_. Some think
+that it is nothing but fright; others attribute it to the
+
+ "strange powers that lie
+ Within the magic circle of the eye,"--
+
+as Churchill said, speaking of Garrick.
+
+You ask me about those mysterious and frightful intimacies between
+children and serpents of which so many instances have been recorded. I
+am sure I cannot tell what to make of them. I have seen several such
+accounts in recent papers, but here is one published in the seventeenth
+century which is as striking as any of the more modern ones:--
+
+"Mr. _Herbert Jones_ of _Monmouth_, when he was a little Boy, was used
+to eat his Milk in a Garden in the Morning, and was no sooner there, but
+a large Snake always came, and eat out of the Dish with him, and did so
+for a considerable time, till one Morning, he striking the Snake on the
+Head, it hissed at him. Upon which he told his Mother that the Baby (for
+so he call'd it) cry'd _Hiss_ at him. His Mother had it kill'd, which
+occasioned him a great _Fit of Sickness_, and 'twas thought would have
+dy'd, but did recover."
+
+There was likewise one "_William Writtle_, condemned at _Maidston
+Assizes_ for a double murder, told a Minister that was with him after he
+was condemned, that his mother told him, that when he was a Child, there
+crept always to him a Snake, wherever she laid him. Sometimes she would
+convey him up Stairs, and leave him never so little, she should be sure
+to find a Snake in the Cradle with him, but never perceived it did him
+any harm."
+
+One of the most striking alleged facts connected with the mysterious
+relation existing between the serpent and the human species is the
+influence which the poison of the _Crotalus_, taken internally, seemed
+to produce over the _moral faculties_, in the experiments instituted by
+Dr. Hering at Surinam. There is something frightful in the disposition
+of certain ophidians, as the whip-snake, which darts at the eyes of
+cattle without any apparent provocation or other motive. It is natural
+enough that the evil principle should have been represented in the form
+of a serpent, but it is strange to think of introducing it into a human
+being like cow-pox by vaccination.
+
+You know all about the _Psylli_, or ancient serpent-tamers, I suppose.
+Savary gives an account of the modern serpent-tamers in his "Letters on
+Egypt." These modern jugglers are in the habit of making the venomous
+_Naja_ counterfeit death, lying out straight and stiff, _changing it
+into a rod_, as the ancient magicians did with their serpents, (probably
+the same animal,) in the time of Moses.
+
+I am afraid I cannot throw much light on "Christabel" or "Lamia" by any
+criticism I can offer. Geraldine, in the former, seems to be simply
+a malignant witch-woman, with the _evil eye_, but with no absolute
+ophidian relationship. Lamia is a serpent transformed by magic into
+a woman. The idea of both is mythological, and not in any sense
+physiological. Some women unquestionably suggest the image of serpents;
+men rarely or never. I have been struck, like many others, with the
+ophidian head and eye of the famous Rachel.
+
+Your question about inherited predispositions, as limiting the sphere of
+the will, and, consequently, of moral accountability, opens a very wide
+range of speculation. I can give you only a brief abstract of my own
+opinions on this delicate and difficult subject. Crime and sin, being
+the _preserves_ of two great organized interests, have been guarded
+against all reforming poachers with as great jealousy as the Royal
+Forests. It is so easy to hang a troublesome fellow! It is so much
+simpler to consign a soul to perdition, or gay masses, for money, to
+save it, than to take the blame on ourselves for letting it grow up in
+neglect and run to ruin for want of humanizing influences! They hung
+poor, crazy Bellingham for shooting Mr. Perceval. The ordinary of
+Newgate preached to women who were to swing at Tyburn for a petty theft
+as if they were worse than other people,--just as though he would not
+have been a pickpocket or shoplifter, himself, if he had been born in
+a den of thieves and bred up to steal or starve! The English law never
+began to get hold of the idea that a crime was not necessarily a sin,
+till Hadfield, who thought he was the Saviour of mankind, was tried for
+shooting at George the Third;--lucky for him that he did not hit his
+Majesty!
+
+It is very singular that we recognize all the bodily defects that unfit
+a man for military service, and all the intellectual ones that limit his
+range of thought, but always talk at him as if all his moral powers were
+perfect I suppose we must punish evil-doers as we extirpate vermin; but
+I don't know that we have any more right to judge them than we have to
+judge rats and mice, which are just as good as cats and weasels, though
+we think it necessary to treat them as criminals.
+
+The limitations of human responsibility have never been properly
+studied, unless it be by the phrenologists. You know from my lectures
+that I consider phrenology, as taught, a pseudo-science, and not a
+branch of positive knowledge; but, for all that, we owe it an immense
+debt. It has melted the world's conscience in its crucible and cast it
+in a new mould, with features less like those of Moloch and more like
+those of humanity. If it has failed to demonstrate its system of special
+correspondences, it has proved that there are fixed relations between
+organization and mind and character. It has brought out that great
+doctrine of moral insanity, which has done more to make men charitable
+and soften legal and theological barbarism than any one doctrine that I
+can think of since the message of peace and good-will to men.
+
+Automatic action in the moral world; the _reflex movement_ which _seems_
+to be self-determination, and has been hanged and howled at as such
+(metaphorically) for nobody knows how many centuries: until somebody
+shall study this as Marshall Hall has studied reflex nervous action in
+the bodily system, I would not give much for men's judgments of each
+other's characters. Shut up the robber and the defaulter, we must. But
+what if your oldest boy had been stolen from his cradle and bred in a
+North-Street cellar? What if you are drinking a little too much wine and
+smoking a little too much tobacco, and your son takes after you, and so
+your poor grandson's brain being a little injured in physical texture,
+he loses the fine moral sense on which you pride yourself, and doesn't
+see the difference between signing another man's name to a draft and his
+own?
+
+I suppose the study of automatic action in the moral world (you see what
+I mean through the apparent contradiction of terms) may be a dangerous
+one in the view of many people. It is liable to abuse, no doubt.
+People are always glad to get hold of anything which limits their
+responsibility. But remember that our moral estimates come down to us
+from ancestors who hanged children for stealing forty shillings' worth,
+and sent their souls to perdition for the sin of being born,--who
+punished the unfortunate families of suicides, and in their eagerness
+for justice executed one innocent person every three years, on the
+average, as Sir James Mackintosh tells us.
+
+I do not know in what shape the practical question may present itself to
+you; but I will tell you my rule in life, and I think you will find it
+a good one. _Treat bad men exactly as if they were insane_. They are
+_in-sane_, out of health, morally. Reason, which is food to sound minds,
+is not tolerated, still less assimilated, unless administered with the
+greatest caution; perhaps, not at all. Avoid collision with them, as far
+as you honorably can; keep your temper, if you can,--for one angry man
+is as good as another; restrain them from injury, promptly, completely,
+and with the least possible injury, just as in the case of maniacs,--and
+when you have got rid of them, or got them tied hand and foot so that
+they can do no mischief, sit down and contemplate them charitably,
+remembering that nine-tenths of their perversity comes from outside
+influences, drunken ancestors, abuse in childhood, bad company, from
+which you have happily been preserved, and for some of which you, as a
+member of society, may be fractionally responsible. I think also that
+there are _special influences_ which _work in the blood like ferments_,
+and I have a suspicion that some of those curious old stories I cited
+may have more recent parallels. Have you ever met with any cases which
+admitted of a solution like that which I have mentioned?
+
+Yours very truly,
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_Bernard Langdon to Philip Staples._
+
+MY DEAR PHILIP,--
+
+I have been for some months established in this place, turning the
+main crank of the machinery for the manufactory of accomplishments
+superintended by, or rather worked to the profit of, a certain Mr. Silas
+Peckham. He is a poor wretch, with a little thin fishy blood in his
+body, lean and flat, long-armed and large-handed, thick-jointed
+and thin-muscled,--you know those unwholesome, weak-eyed, half-fed
+creatures, that look not fit to be round among live folks, and yet not
+quite dead enough to bury. If you ever hear of my being in court to
+answer to a charge of assault and battery, you may guess that I have
+been giving him a thrashing to settle off old scores; for he is a
+tyrant, and has come pretty near killing his principal lady-assistant
+with overworking her and keeping her out of all decent privileges.
+
+Helen Darley is this lady's name,--twenty-two or -three years old,
+I should think,--a very sweet, pale woman,--daughter of the usual
+country-clergyman,--thrown on her own resources from an early age, and
+the rest: a common story, but an uncommon person,--very. All conscience
+and sensibility, I should say,--a cruel worker,--no kind of regard for
+herself,--seems as fragile and supple as a young willow-shoot, but try
+her and you find she has the spring in her of a steel crossbow. I am
+glad I happened to come to this place, if it were only for her sake. I
+have saved that girl's life; I am as sure of it as if I had pulled her
+out of the fire or water.
+
+Of course I'm in love with her, you say,--we always love those whom
+we have benefited: "saved her life,--her love was the reward of his
+devotion," etc., etc., as in a regular set novel. In love, Philip? Well,
+about that,--I love Helen Darley--very much: there is hardly anybody I
+love so well. What a noble creature she is! One of those that just go
+right on, do their own work and everybody else's, killing themselves
+inch by inch without ever thinking about it,--singing and dancing
+at their toil when they begin, worn and saddened after a while, but
+pressing steadily on, tottering by-and-by, and catching at the rail by
+the wayside to help them lift one foot before the other, and at last
+falling, face down, arms stretched forward----
+
+Philip, my boy, do you know I am the sort of man that locks his door
+sometimes and cries his heart out of his eyes,--that can sob like a
+woman and not be ashamed of it? I come of fighting-blood on my mother's
+side, you know; I think I could be savage on occasion. But I am
+tender,--more and more tender as I come into my fulness of manhood. I
+don't like to strike a man, (laugh, if you like,--I know I hit hard
+when I do strike,)--but what I can't stand is the sight of these poor,
+patient, toiling women, that never find out in this life how good they
+are, and never know what it is to be told they are angels while they
+still wear the pleasing incumbrances of humanity. I don't know what to
+make of these cases. To think that a woman is never to be a woman again,
+whatever she may come to as an unsexed angel,--and that she should die
+unloved! Why does not somebody come and carry off this noble woman,
+waiting here all ready to make a man happy? Philip, do you know the
+pathos there is in the eyes of unsought women, oppressed with the burden
+of an inner life unshared? I can see into them now as I could not in
+those earlier days. I sometimes think their pupils dilate on purpose to
+let my consciousness glide through them; indeed, I dread them, I come so
+close to the nerve of the soul itself in these momentary intimacies. You
+used to tell me I was a Turk,--that my heart was full of pigeon-holes,
+with accommodations inside for a whole flock of doves. I don't know but
+I am still as Youngish as ever in my ways,--Brigham-Youngish, I mean;
+at any rate, I always want to give a little love to all the poor things
+that cannot have a whole man to themselves. If they would only be
+contented with a little!
+
+Here now are two girls in this school where I am teaching. One of them,
+Rosa M., is not more than sixteen years old, I think they say; but
+Nature has forced her into a tropical luxuriance of beauty, as if it
+were July with her, instead of May. I suppose it is all natural enough
+that this girl should like a young man's attention, even if he were a
+grave schoolmaster; but the eloquence of this young thing's look
+is unmistakable,--and yet she does not know the language it is
+talking,--they none of them do; and there is where a good many poor
+creatures of our good-for-nothing sex are mistaken. There is no danger
+of my being rash, but I think this girl will cost somebody his life yet.
+She is one of those women men make a quarrel about and fight to the
+death for,--the old feral instinct, you know.
+
+Pray, don't think I am lost in conceit, but there is another girl here
+that I begin to think looks with a certain kindness on me. Her name is
+Elsie V., and she is the only daughter and heiress of an old family in
+this place. She is a portentous and mysterious creature. If I should
+tell you all I know and half of what I fancy about her, you would
+tell me to get my life insured at once. Yet she is the most painfully
+interesting being,--so handsome! so lonely!--for she has no friends
+among the girls, and sits apart from them,--with black hair like the
+flow of a mountain-brook after a thaw, with a low-browed, scowling
+beauty of face, and such eyes as were never seen before, I really
+believe, in any human creature.
+
+Philip, I don't know what to say about this Elsie. There is a mystery
+around her I have not fathomed. I have conjectures about her which
+I could not utter to any living soul. I dare not even hint the
+possibilities which have suggested themselves to me. This I will
+say,--that I do take the most intense interest in this young person, an
+interest much more like pity than love in its common sense. If what I
+guess at is true, of all the tragedies of existence I ever knew this is
+the saddest, and yet so full of meaning! Do not ask me any questions,--I
+have said more than I meant to already; but I am involved in strange
+doubts and perplexities,--in dangers too, very possibly,--and it is a
+relief just to speak ever so guardedly of them to an early and faithful
+friend.
+
+Yours ever, BERNARD.
+
+P. S. I remember you had a copy of Fortunius Licetus "De Monstris" among
+your old books. Can't you lend it to me for a while? I am curious, and
+it will amuse me.
+
+
+
+
+ANNO DOMINI, 1860.
+
+
+ My youth is past!--this morn I stand,
+ With manhood's signet of command,
+ Firm-planted on life's middle-land!
+
+ Behind, the scene recedes afar,
+ Where cloudy mists and vapors mar
+ The lustre of my morning-star.
+
+ I mark the courses of my days,
+ Inwound through many a doubtful maze,--
+ To marvel at those devious ways!
+
+ They lead through hills and levels lone,
+ Green fields, and woodlands overgrown,
+ And where deep waters pulse and moan;--
+
+ By ruined tower, by darksome dell,
+ The home of night-birds fierce and fell,
+ Wherein strange shapes of Horror dwell;--
+
+ Out to the blessed sunshine free,
+ The breezy moors of liberty,
+ And skies outpouring harmony;--
+
+ By palace-wall, by haunted tomb,
+ Through bright and dark, through joy and gloom:
+ My life hath known both blight and bloom.
+
+ And now, as from some mountain-height,
+ Backward I strain my eager sight,
+ Till all the landscape melts in night;--
+
+ Then, whispering to my Heart, "Be bold!"
+ I turn from years whose "tale is told,"
+ To greet the Future's dawn of gold:
+
+ High hopes and nobler labors wait
+ Beyond that Future's opening gate,--
+ Brave deeds which hold the seeds of Fate.
+
+ Thy strength, O Lord, shall fire my blood,
+ Shall nerve my soul, make wise my mood,
+ And win me to the pure and good!
+
+ Or if, O Father, thou shouldst say,
+ "Dark Angel, close his mortal day!"
+ And smite me on my vanward way,--
+
+ Grant that in armor firm and strong,
+ Whilst pealing still Life's battle-song,
+ And struggling, manful, 'gainst the wrong,
+
+ Thy soldier, who would fight to win
+ No crown of dross, no bays of sin,
+ May fall amidst the foremost din
+
+ Of Truth's grand conflict, blest by Thee,--
+ And even though Death should conquer, see
+ How false, how brief his victory!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+DARWIN ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.
+
+[Continued.]
+
+
+"I can entertain no doubt, after the most deliberate study and
+dispassionate judgment of which I am capable, that the view which most
+naturalists entertain, and which I formerly entertained,--namely, that
+each species has been independently created,--is erroneous. I am fully
+convinced that species are not immutable; but that those belonging to
+what are called the same genera are lineal descendants of some other
+and generally extinct species, in the same manner as the acknowledged
+varieties of any one species are the descendants of that species.
+Furthermore, I am convinced that Natural Selection has been the main,
+but not exclusive means of modification."
+
+This is the kernel of the new theory, the Darwinian creed, as recited
+at the close of the introduction to the remarkable book under
+consideration. The questions, "What will he do with it?" and "How far
+will he carry it?" the author answers at the close of the volume: "I
+cannot doubt that the theory of descent with modification embraces all
+the members of the same class." Furthermore, "I believe that all animals
+have descended from at most only four or five progenitors, and plants
+from an equal or lesser number." Seeing that analogy as strongly
+suggests a further step in the same direction, while he protests that
+"analogy may be a deceitful guide," yet he follows its inexorable
+leading to the inference that "probably all the organic beings which
+have ever lived on this earth have descended from some one primordial
+form, into which life was first breathed."[a]
+
+In the first extract we have the thin end of the wedge driven a little
+way; in the last, the wedge is driven home.
+
+We have already (in the preceding number) sketched some of the reasons
+suggestive of such a theory of derivation of species,--reasons which
+give it plausibility, and even no small probability, as applied to our
+actual world and to changes occurring since the latest tertiary period.
+We are well pleased at this moment to find that the conclusions we were
+arriving at in this respect are sustained by the very high authority and
+impartial judgment of Pictet, the Swiss palaeontologist. In his review
+of Darwin's book,[b]--much the fairest and most admirable opposing one
+that has yet appeared,--he freely accepts that _ensemble_ of natural
+operations which Darwin impersonates under the now familiar name of
+Natural Selection, allows that the exposition throughout the first
+chapters seems "_à la fois prudent et fort_" and is disposed to accept
+the whole argument in its foundations, that is, so far as it relates
+to what is now going on, or has taken place in the present geological
+period,--which period he carries back through the diluvial epoch to the
+borders of the tertiary.[c] Pictet accordingly admits that the theory
+will very well account for the origination by divergence of nearly
+related species, whether within the present period or in remoter
+geological times: a very natural view for him to take; since he
+appears to have reached and published, several years ago, the pregnant
+conclusion, that there most probably was some material connection
+between the closely related species of two successive faunas, and that
+the numerous close species, whose limits are so difficult to determine,
+were not all created distinct and independent. But while accepting, or
+ready to accept, the basis of Darwin's theory, and all its legitimate
+direct inferences, he rejects the ultimate conclusions, brings some
+weighty arguments to bear against them, and is evidently convinced that
+he can draw a clear line between the sound inferences, which he favors,
+and the unsound or unwarranted theoretical deductions, which he rejects.
+We hope he can.
+
+[Footnote a: P. 484, Engl. ed. In the new American edition, (_Vide_
+Supplement, pp. 431, 432,) the principal analogies which suggest the
+extreme view are referred to, and the remark is appended,--"But this
+inference is chiefly grounded on analogy, and it is immaterial whether
+or not it be accepted. The case is different with the members of each
+great class, as the Vertebrata or Articulata; for here we have in the
+laws of homology, embryology, etc., some distinct evidence that all have
+descended from a single primordial parent."]
+
+[Footnote b: In _Bibliothèque Universelle de Genève_, Mars, 1860.]
+
+[Footnote c: This we learn from his very interesting article, _De
+la Question de l'Homme Fossile_, in the same (March) number of the
+_Bibliothèque Universelle_.]
+
+This raises the question, Why does Darwin press his theory to these
+extreme conclusions? Why do all hypotheses of derivation converge so
+inevitably to one ultimate point? Having already considered some of the
+reasons which suggest or support the theory at its outset,--which may
+carry it as far as such sound and experienced naturalists as Pictet
+allow that it may be true,--perhaps as far as Darwin himself unfolds
+it in the introductory proposition cited at the beginning of this
+article,--we may now inquire after the motives which impel the theorist
+so much farther. Here proofs, in the proper sense of the word, are not
+to be had. We are beyond the region of demonstration, and have duly
+probabilities to consider. What are these probabilities? What work
+will this hypothesis do to establish a claim to be adopted in its
+completeness? Why should a theory which may plausibly enough account for
+the _diversification_ of the species of each special type or genus,
+be expanded into a general system for the _origination_ or successive
+diversification of all species, and all special types or forms, from
+four or five remote primordial forms, or perhaps from one? We accept the
+theory of gravitation because it explains all the facts we know, and
+bears all the tests that we can put it to. We incline to accept the
+nebular hypothesis, for similar reasons; not because it is proved,--thus
+far it is wholly incapable of proof,--but because it is a natural
+theoretical deduction from accepted physical laws, is thoroughly
+congruous with the facts, and because its assumption serves to connect
+and harmonize these into one probable and consistent whole. Can the
+derivative hypothesis be maintained and carried out into a system on
+similar grounds? If so, however unproved, it would appear to be a
+tenable hypothesis, which is all that its author ought now to claim.
+Such hypotheses as from the conditions of the case can neither be proved
+nor disproved by direct evidence or experiment are to be tested only
+indirectly, and therefore imperfectly, by trying their power to
+harmonize the known facts, and to account for what is otherwise
+unaccountable. So the question comes to this:
+
+What will an hypothesis of the derivation of species explain which the
+opposing view leaves unexplained?
+
+Questions these which ought to be entertained before we take up the
+arguments which have been advanced against this theory. We can only
+glance at some of the considerations which Darwin adduces, or will be
+sure to adduce in the future and fuller exposition which is promised.
+To display them in such wise as to indoctrinate the unscientific reader
+would require a volume. Merely to refer to them in the most general
+terms would suffice for those familiar with scientific matters, but
+would scarcely enlighten those who are not. Wherefore let these trust
+the impartial Pictet, who freely admits, that, "in the absence of
+sufficient direct proofs to justify the possibility of his hypothesis,
+Mr. Darwin relies upon indirect proofs, the bearing of which is real and
+incontestable"; who concedes that "his theory accords very well with the
+great facts of comparative anatomy and zoölogy,--comes in admirably to
+explain unity of composition of organisms, also to explain rudimentary
+and representative organs, and the natural series of genera and
+species,--equally corresponds with many palaeontological data,--agrees
+well with the specific resemblances which exist between two successive
+faunas, with the parallelism which is sometimes observed between the
+series of palaeontological succession and of embryonal development,"
+etc.; and finally, although he does not accept the theory in these
+results, he allows that "it appears to offer the best means of
+explaining the manner in which organized beings were produced in epochs
+anterior to our own."
+
+What more than this could be said for such an hypothesis? Here,
+probably, is its charm, and its strong hold upon the speculative mind.
+Unproven though it be, and cumbered _primâ facie_ with cumulative
+improbabilities as it proceeds, yet it singularly accords with great
+classes of facts otherwise insulated and enigmatic, and explains many
+things which are thus far utterly inexplicable upon any other scientific
+assumption.
+
+We have said (p. 116) that Darwin's hypothesis is the natural complement
+to Lyell's uniformitarian theory in physical geology. It is for the
+organic world what that popular view is for the inorganic; and the
+accepters of the latter stand in a position from which to regard the
+former in the most favorable light. Wherefore the rumor that the
+cautious Lyell himself has adopted the Darwinian hypothesis need not
+surprise us. The two views are made for each other, and, like the two
+counterpart pictures for the stereoscope, when brought together, combine
+into one apparently solid whole.
+
+If we allow, with Pictet, that Darwin's theory will very well serve for
+all that concerns the present epoch of the world's history,--an epoch
+which this renowned palaeontologist regards as including the diluvial or
+quaternary period,--then Darwin's first and foremost need in his onward
+course is a practicable road from this into and through the tertiary
+period, the intervening region between the comparatively near and the
+far remote past. Here Lyell's doctrine paves the way, by showing that in
+the physical geology there is no general or absolute break between the
+two, probably no greater between the latest tertiary and the quaternary
+period than between the latter and the present time. So far, the
+Lyellian view is, we suppose, generally concurred in. Now as to the
+organic world, it is largely admitted that numerous tertiary species
+have continued down into the quaternary, and many of them to the present
+time. A goodly percentage of the earlier and nearly half of the later
+tertiary mollusca, according to Des Hayes, Lyell, and, if we mistake
+not, Bronn, still live. This identification, however, is now questioned
+by a naturalist of the very highest authority. But, in its bearings on
+the new theory, the point here turns not upon absolute identity so
+much as upon close resemblance. For those who, with Agassiz, doubt the
+specific identity in any of these cases, and those who say, with Pictet,
+that "the later tertiary deposits contain in general the _débris_ of
+species _very nearly related_ to those which still exist, belonging to
+the same genera, but specifically different," may also agree with Pictet
+that the nearly related species of successive faunas must or may have
+had "a material connection." Now the only material connection that
+we have an idea of in such a case is a genealogical one. And the
+supposition of a genealogical connection is surely not unnatural in such
+cases,--is demonstrably the natural one as respects all those tertiary
+species which experienced naturalists have pronounced to be identical
+with existing ones, but which others now deem distinct. For to identify
+the two is the same thing as to conclude the one to be the ancestors of
+the other. No doubt there are differences between the tertiary and
+the present individuals, differences equally noted by both classes of
+naturalists, but differently estimated. By the one these are deemed
+quite compatible, by the other incompatible, with community of origin.
+But who can tell us what amount of difference is compatible with
+community of origin? This is the very question at issue, and one to be
+settled by observation alone. Who would have thought that the peach and
+the nectarine came from one stock? But, this being proved, is it now
+very improbable that both were derived from the almond, or from some
+common amygdaline progenitor? Who would have thought that the cabbage,
+cauliflower, broccoli, kale, and kohlrabi are derivatives of one
+species, and rape or colza, turnip, and probably rutabaga, of another
+species? And who that is convinced of this can long undoubtingly hold
+the original distinctness of turnips from cabbages as an article of
+faith? On scientific grounds may not a primordial cabbage or rape be
+assumed as the ancestor of all the cabbage races, on much the same
+ground that we assume a common ancestry for the diversified human races?
+If all our breeds of cattle came from one stock, why not this stock from
+the auroch, which has had all the time between the diluvial and the
+historic periods in which to set off a variation perhaps no greater than
+the difference between some sorts of cattle?
+
+That considerable differences are often discernible between tertiary
+individuals and their supposed descendants of the present day affords
+no argument against Darwin's theory, as has been rashly thought, but is
+decidedly in its favor. If the identification were so perfect that no
+more differences were observable between the tertiary and the recent
+shells than between various individuals of either, then Darwin's
+opponents, who argue the immutability of species from the ibises and
+cats preserved by the ancient Egyptians being just like those of the
+present day, could triumphantly add a few hundred thousand years more to
+the length of the experiment and to the force of their argument. As the
+facts stand, it appears, that, while some tertiary forms are essentially
+undistinguishable from existing ones, others are the same with a
+difference, which is judged not to be specific or aboriginal, and yet
+others show somewhat greater differences, such as are scientifically
+expressed by calling them marked varieties, or else doubtful species;
+while others, differing a little more, are confidently termed distinct,
+but nearly related species. Now is not all this a question of degree,
+of mere gradation of difference? Is it at all likely that these several
+gradations came to be established in two totally different ways,--some
+of them (though naturalists can't agree which) through natural
+variation, or other secondary cause, and some by original creation,
+without secondary cause? We have seen that the judicious Pictet answers
+such questions as Darwin would have him do, in affirming, that, in all
+probability, the nearly related species of two successive faunas were
+materially connected, and that contemporaneous species, similarly
+resembling each other, were not all created so, but have become so. This
+is equivalent to saying that species (using the term as all naturalists
+do and must continue to employ the word) have only a relative, not an
+absolute fixity; that differences fully equivalent to what are held to
+be specific may arise in the course of time, so that one species may at
+length be naturally replaced by another species a good deal like it, or
+may be diversified through variation or otherwise into two, three, or
+more species, or forms as different as species. This concedes all that
+Darwin has a right to ask, all that he can directly infer from evidence.
+We must add that it affords a _locus standi_, more or less tenable, for
+inferring more.
+
+Here another geological consideration comes in to help on this
+inference. The species of the later tertiary period for the most part
+not only resembled those of our days, many of them so closely as to
+suggest an absolute continuity, but, also occupied in general the same
+regions that their relatives occupy now. The same may be said, though
+less specially, of the earlier tertiary and of the later secondary; but
+there is less and less localization of forms as we recede, yet some
+localization even in palæozoic times. While in the secondary period one
+is struck with the similarity of forms and the identity of many of the
+species which flourished apparently at the same time in all or in the
+most widely separated parts of the world, in the tertiary epoch, on the
+contrary, along with the increasing specialization of climates and
+their approximation to the present state, we find abundant evidence
+of increasing localization of orders, genera, and species; and
+this localization strikingly accords with the present geographical
+distribution of the same groups of species. Where the imputed
+forefathers lived, their relatives and supposed descendants now
+flourish. All the actual classes of the animal and vegetable kingdoms
+were represented in the tertiary faunas and floras, and in nearly the
+same proportions and the same diversities as at present. The faunas of
+what is now Europe, Asia, America, and Australia differed from
+each other much as they now differ: in fact,--according to Adolphe
+Brongniart, whose statements we here condense,[a]--the inhabitants of
+these different regions appear for the most part to have acquired,
+before the close of the tertiary period, the characters which
+essentially distinguish their existing faunas. The eastern continent
+had then, as now, its great pachyderms, elephants, rhinoceros, and
+hippopotamus; South America its armadillos, sloths, and ant-eaters;
+Australia a crowd of marsupials; and the very strange birds of New
+Zealand had predecessors of similar strangeness. Everywhere the same
+geographical distribution as now, with a difference in the particular
+area, as respects the northern portion of the continents, answering to a
+warmer climate then than ours, such as allowed species of hippopotamus,
+rhinoceros, and elephant to range even to the regions now inhabited
+by the reindeer and the musk-ox, and with the serious disturbing
+intervention of the glacial period within a comparatively recent time.
+Let it be noted, also, that those tertiary species which have continued
+with little change down to our days are the marine animals of the
+lower grades, especially mollusca. Their low organization, moderate
+sensibility, and the simple conditions of an existence in a medium
+like the ocean, not subject to great variation and incapable of sudden
+change, may well account for their continuance; while, on the other
+hand, the more intense, however gradual, climatic vicissitudes on land,
+which have driven all tropical and sub-tropical forms out of the higher
+latitudes and assigned to them their actual limits, would be almost sure
+to extinguish such huge and unwieldy animals as mastodons, mammoths, and
+the like, whose power of enduring altered circumstances must have been
+small.
+
+[Footnote a: In _Comptes Rendus, Acad. des Sciences_, Févr. 2, 1857.]
+
+This general replacement of the tertiary species of a country by
+others so much like them is a noteworthy fact. The hypothesis of the
+independent creation of all species, irrespective of their antecedents,
+leaves this fact just as mysterious as is creation itself; that of
+derivation undertakes to account for it. Whether it satisfactorily does
+so or not, it must be allowed that the facts well accord with that
+assumption.
+
+The same may be said of another conclusion, namely, that the geological
+succession of animals and plants appears to correspond in a general
+way with their relative standing or rank in a natural system of
+classification. It seems clear, that, though no one of the _grand types_
+of the animal kingdom can be traced back farther than the rest, yet the
+lower _classes_ long preceded the higher; that there has been on the
+whole a steady progression within each class and order; and that the
+highest plants and animals have appeared only in relatively modern
+times. It is only, however, in a broad sense that this generalization
+is now thought to hold good. It encounters many apparent exceptions and
+sundry real ones. So far as the rule holds, all is as it should be upon
+an hypothesis of derivation.
+
+The rule has its exceptions. But, curiously enough, the most striking
+class of exceptions, if such they be, seems to us even more favorable to
+the doctrine of derivation than is the general rule of a pure and simple
+ascending gradation. We refer to what Agassiz calls prophetic and
+synthetic types; for which the former name may suffice, as the
+difference between the two is evanescent.
+
+"It has been noticed," writes our great zoölogist, "that certain types,
+which are frequently prominent among the representatives of past ages,
+combine in their structure peculiarities which at later periods are only
+observed separately in different, distinct types. Sauroid fishes before
+reptiles, Pterodactyles before birds, Ichthyosauri before dolphins, etc.
+There are entire families, of nearly every class of animals, which
+in the state of their perfect development exemplify such prophetic
+relations.... The sauroid fishes of the past geological ages are an
+example of this kind. These fishes, which preceded the appearance of
+reptiles, present a combination of ichthyic and reptilian characters not
+to be found in the true members of this class, which form its bulk at
+present. The Pterodactyles, which preceded the class of birds, and the
+Ichthyosauri, which preceded the Cetaeca, are other examples of such
+prophetic types."[a]
+
+[Footnote a: Agassiz, _Contributions: Essay on Classification_, p.
+117, where, we may be permitted to note, the word "Crustacea" is by a
+typographical error printed in place of _Cetacea_.]
+
+Now these reptile-like fishes, of which gar-pikes are the living
+representatives, though of earlier appearance, are admittedly of higher
+rank than common fishes. They dominated until reptiles appeared, when
+they mostly gave place to--or, as the derivationists will insist, were
+resolved by divergent variation and natural selection into--common
+fishes, destitute of reptilian characters, and saurian reptiles, the
+intermediate grades, which, according to a familiar piscine saying,
+are "neither fish, flesh, nor good red-herring," being eliminated and
+extinguished by natural consequence of the struggle for existence which
+Darwin so aptly portrays. And so, perhaps, of the other prophetic types.
+Here type and antitype correspond. If these are true prophecies, we need
+not wonder that some who read them in Agassiz's book will read their
+fulfilment in Darwin's.
+
+Note also, in tins connection, that, along with a wonderful persistence
+of type, with change of species, genera, orders, etc., from formation to
+formation, no species and no higher group which has once unequivocally
+died out ever afterwards reappears. Why is this, but that the link of
+generation has been sundered? Why, on the hypothesis of independent
+originations, were not failing species re-created, either identically or
+with a difference, in regions eminently adapted to their well-being? To
+take a striking case. That no part of the world now offers more suitable
+conditions for wild horses and cattle than the Pampas and other plains
+of South America is shown by the facility with which they have there run
+wild and enormously multiplied, since introduced from the Old World not
+long ago. There was no wild American stock. Yet in the times of the
+Mastodon and Megatherium, at the dawn of the present period, wild
+horses and cattle--the former certainly very much like the existing
+horse--roamed over those plains in abundance. On the principle of
+original and direct created adaptation of species to climate and other
+conditions, why were these types not reproduced, when, after the colder
+intervening era, those regions became again eminently adapted to such
+animals? Why, but because, by their complete extinction in South
+America, the line of descent was here utterly broken? Upon the ordinary
+hypothesis, there is no scientific explanation possible of this series
+of facts, and of many others like them. Upon the new hypothesis, "the
+succession of the same types of structure within the same areas during
+the later geological periods ceases to be mysterious, and is simply
+explained by inheritance." Their cessation is failure of issue.
+
+Along with these considerations the fact (alluded to on p. 114) should
+be remembered, that, as a general thing, related species of the present
+age are geographically associated. The larger part of the plants, and
+still more of the animals, of each separate country are peculiar to
+it; and, as most species now flourish over the graves of their by-gone
+relatives of former ages, so they now dwell among or accessibly near
+their kindred species.
+
+Here also comes in that general "parallelism between the order of
+succession of animals and plants in geological times, and the gradation
+among their living representatives" from low to highly organized,
+from simple and general to complex and specialized forms; also "the
+parallelism between the order of succession of animals in geological
+times--and the changes their living representatives undergo during their
+embryological growth,"--as if the world were one prolonged gestation.
+Modern science has much insisted on this parallelism, and to a certain
+extent is allowed to have made it out. All these things, which conspire
+to prove that the ancient and the recent forms of life "are somehow
+intimately connected together in one grand system," equally conspire to
+suggest that the connection is one similar or analogous to generation.
+Surely no naturalist can be blamed for entering somewhat confidently
+upon a field of speculative inquiry which here opens so invitingly; nor
+need former premature endeavors and failures utterly dishearten him.
+
+All these things, it may naturally be said, go to explain the order, not
+the mode, of the incoming of species. But they all do tend to bring out
+the generalization expressed by Mr. Wallace in the formula, that "every
+species has come into existence coincident both in time and space with
+preëxisting closely allied species." Not, however, that this is proved
+even of existing species as a matter of general fact. It is obviously
+impossible to _prove_ anything of the kind. But we must concede that the
+known facts strongly suggest such an inference. And since species are
+only congeries of individuals, and every individual came into existence
+in consequence of preëxisting individuals of the same sort, so leading
+up to the individuals with which the species began, and since the only
+material sequence we know of among plants and animals is that from
+parent to progeny, the presumption becomes exceedingly strong that
+the connection of the incoming with the preëxisting species is a
+genealogical one.
+
+Here, however, all depends upon the probability that Mr. Wallace's
+inference is really true. Certainly it is not yet generally accepted;
+but a strong current is setting towards its acceptance.
+
+So long as universal cataclysms were in vogue, and all life upon the
+earth was thought to have been suddenly destroyed and renewed many times
+in succession, such a view could not be thought of. So the equivalent
+view maintained by Agassiz, and formerly, we believe, by D'Orbigny,
+that, irrespectively of general and sudden catastrophes, or any known
+adequate physical cause, there has been a total depopulation at the
+close of each geological period or formation, say forty or fifty times,
+or more, followed by as many independent great acts of creation, at
+which alone have species been originated, and at each of which a
+vegetable and an animal kingdom were produced entire and complete,
+full-fledged, as flourishing, as wide-spread and populous, as varied and
+mutually adapted from the beginning as ever afterwards,--such a view, of
+course, supersedes all material connection between successive species,
+and removes even the association and geographical range of species
+entirely out of the domain of physical causes and of natural science.
+This is the extreme opposite of Wallace's and Darwin's view, and is
+quite as hypothetical. The nearly universal opinion, if we rightly
+gather it, manifestly is, that the replacement of the species of
+successive formations was not complete and simultaneous, but partial
+and successive; and that along the course of each epoch some species
+probably were introduced, and some, doubtless, became extinct. If all
+since the tertiary belongs to our present epoch, this is certainly true
+of it: if to two or more epochs, then the hypothesis of a total change
+is not true of them.
+
+Geology makes huge demands upon time; and we regret to find that it has
+exhausted ours,--that what we meant for the briefest and most general
+sketch of some geological considerations in favor of Darwin's hypothesis
+has so extended as to leave no room for considering "the great facts of
+comparative anatomy and zoölogy" with which Darwin's theory "very well
+accords," nor for indicating how "it admirably serves for explaining the
+unity of composition of all organisms, the existence of representative
+and rudimentary organs, and the natural series which genera and species
+compose." Suffice it to say that these are the real strongholds of the
+new system on its theoretical side; that it goes far towards explaining
+both the physiological and the structural gradations and relations
+between the two kingdoms, and the arrangement of all their forms in
+groups subordinate to groups, all within a few great types; that it
+reads the riddle of abortive organs and of morphological conformity, of
+which no other theory has ever offered a scientific explanation, and
+supplies a ground for harmonizing the two fundamental ideas which
+naturalists and philosophers conceive to have ruled the organic world,
+though they could not reconcile them, namely: Adaptation to Purpose and
+the Conditions of Existence, and Unity of Type. To reconcile these two
+undeniable principles is a capital problem in the philosophy of natural
+history; and the hypothesis which consistently does so thereby secures a
+great advantage.
+
+We all know that the arm and hand of a monkey, the foreleg and foot of
+a dog and of a horse, the wing of a bat, and the fin of a porpoise are
+fundamentally identical; that the long neck of the giraffe has the same
+and no more bones than the short one of the elephant; that the eggs of
+Surinam frogs hatch into tadpoles with as good tails for swimming as any
+of their kindred, although as tadpoles they never enter the water; that
+the Guinea-pig is furnished with incisor teeth which it never uses,
+as it sheds them before birth; that embryos of mammals and birds
+have branchial slits and arteries running in loops, in imitation or
+reminiscence of the arrangement which is permanent in fishes; and that
+thousands of animals and plants have rudimentary organs which, at least
+in numerous cases, are wholly useless to their possessors, etc., etc.
+Upon a derivative theory this morphological conformity is explained by
+community of descent; and it has not been explained in any other way.
+
+Naturalists are constantly speaking of "related species," of
+the "affinity" of a genus or other group, and of "family
+resemblance,"--vaguely conscious that these terms of kinship are
+something more than mere metaphors, but unaware of the grounds of their
+aptness. Mr. Darwin assures them that they have been talking derivative
+doctrine all their lives without knowing it.
+
+If it is difficult and in some cases practically impossible to fix the
+limits of species, it is still more so to fix those of genera; and those
+of tribes and families are still less susceptible of exact natural
+circumscription. Intermediate forms occur, connecting one group with
+another in a manner sadly perplexing to systematists, except to those
+who have ceased to expect absolute limitations in Nature. All this
+blending could hardly fail to suggest a former material connection among
+allied forms, such as that which an hypothesis of derivation demands.
+
+Here it would not be amiss to consider the general principle of
+gradation throughout organic Nature,--a principle which answers in a
+general way to the law of continuity in the inorganic world, or
+rather is so analogous to it that both may fairly be expressed by
+the Leibnitzian axiom, _Natura non agit saltatim_. As an axiom or
+philosophical principle, used to test modal laws or hypotheses, this in
+strictness belongs only to physics. In the investigation of Nature at
+large, at least in the organic world, nobody would undertake to apply
+this principle as a test of the validity of any theory or supposed law.
+But naturalists of enlarged views will not fail to infer the principle
+from the phenomena they investigate,--to perceive that the rule holds,
+under due qualifications and altered forms, throughout the realm of
+Nature; although we do not suppose that Nature in the organic world
+makes no distinct steps, but only short and serial steps,--not
+infinitely fine gradations, but no long leaps, or few of them.
+
+To glance at a few illustrations out of many that present themselves. It
+would be thought that the distinction between the two organic kingdoms
+was broad and absolute. Plants and animals belong to two very different
+categories, fulfil opposite offices, and, as to the mass of them, are
+so unlike that the difficulty of the ordinary observer would be to find
+points of comparison. Without entering into details, which would fill an
+article, we may safely say that the difficulty with the naturalist is
+all the other way,--that all these broad differences vanish one by one
+as we approach the lower confines of the two kingdoms, and that no
+_absolute_ distinction whatever is now known between them. It is quite
+possible that the same organism may be both vegetable and animal, or may
+be first the one and then the other. If some organisms may be said to be
+at first vegetables and then animals, others, like the spores and other
+reproductive bodies of many of the lower Algae, may equally claim to
+have first a characteristically animal, and then an unequivocally
+vegetable existence. Nor is the gradation purely restricted to these
+simple organisms. It appears in general functions, as in that of
+reproduction, which is reducible to the same formula in both kingdoms,
+while it exhibits close approximations in the lower forms; also in a
+common or similar ground of sensibility in the lowest forms of both,
+a common faculty of effecting movements tending to a determinate end,
+traces of which pervade the vegetable kingdom,--while on the other hand,
+this indefinable principle, this vegetable _animula vagula, blandula_,
+graduates into the higher sensitiveness of the lower class of animals.
+Nor need we hesitate to recognize the fine gradations from simple
+sensitiveness and volition to the higher instinctive and other psychical
+manifestations of the higher brute animals. The gradation is undoubted,
+however we may explain it. Again, propagation is of one mode in the
+higher animals, of two in all plants; but vegetative propagation, by
+budding or offshoots, extends through the lower grades of animals. In
+both kingdoms there may be separation of the offshoots, or indifference
+in this respect, or continued and organic union with the parent stock;
+and this either with essential independence of the offshoots, or with
+a subordination of these to a common whole, or finally with such
+subordination and amalgamation, along with specialization of function,
+that the same parts, which in other cases can be regarded only as
+progeny, in these become only members of an individual.
+
+This leads to the question of individuality, a subject quite too large
+and too recondite for present discussion. The conclusion of the whole
+matter, however, is, that individuality--that very ground of _being_ as
+distinguished from _thing_--is not attained in Nature at one leap. If
+anywhere truly exemplified in plants, it is only in the lowest and
+simplest, where the being is a structural unit, a single cell,
+memberless and organless, though organic,--the same thing as those cells
+of which all the more complex plants are built up, and with which every
+plant and (structurally) every animal began its development. In the
+ascending gradation of the vegetable kingdom individuality is, so to
+say, striven after, but never attained; in the lower animals it is
+striven after with greater, though incomplete success; it is realized
+only in animals of so high a rank that vegetative multiplication or
+offshoots are out of the question, where all parts are strictly
+members and nothing else, and all subordinated to a common nervous
+centre,--fully realized, perhaps, only in a conscious person.
+
+So, also, the broad distinction between reproduction by seeds or ova and
+propagation by buds, though perfect in some of the lowest forms of life,
+becomes evanescent in others; and even the most absolute law we know in
+the physiology of genuine reproduction, that of sexual co-operation,
+has its exceptions in both kingdoms in parthenogenesis, to which in the
+vegetable kingdom a most curious series of gradations leads. In plants,
+likewise, a long and most finely graduated series of transitions leads
+from bisexual to unisexual blossoms; and so in various other respects.
+Everywhere we may perceive that Nature secures her ends, and makes her
+distinctions on the whole manifest and real, but everywhere without
+abrupt breaks. We need not wonder, therefore, that gradations between
+species and varieties should occur; the more so, since genera, tribes,
+and other groups into which the naturalist collocates species are
+far from being always absolutely limited in Nature, though they are
+necessarily represented to be so in systems. From the necessity of the
+case, the classifications of the naturalist abruptly define where Nature
+more or less blends. Our systems are nothing, if not definite. They
+are intended to express differences, and perhaps some of the coarser
+gradations. But this evinces, not their perfection, but their
+imperfection. Even the best of them are to the system of Nature what
+consecutive patches of the seven colors are to the rainbow.
+
+Now the principle of gradation throughout organic Nature may, of
+course, be interpreted upon other assumptions than those of Darwin's
+hypothesis,--certainly upon quite other than those of materialistic
+philosophy, with which we ourselves have no sympathy. Still we conceive
+it not only possible, but probable, that this gradation, as it has its
+natural ground, may yet have its scientific explanation. In any case,
+there is no need to deny that the general facts correspond well with an
+hypothesis like Darwin's, which is built upon fine gradations.
+
+We have contemplated quite long enough the general presumptions in
+favor of an hypothesis of the derivation of species. We cannot forget,
+however, while for the moment we overlook, the formidable difficulties
+which all hypotheses of this class have to encounter, and the serious
+implications which they seem to involve. We feel, moreover, that
+Darwin's particular hypothesis is exposed to some special objections. It
+requires no small strength of nerve steadily to conceive not only of
+the variation, but of the formation of the organs of an animal through
+cumulative variation and natural selection. Think of such an organ as
+the eye, that most perfect of optical instruments, as so produced in the
+lower animals and perfected in the higher! A friend of ours, who accepts
+the new doctrine, confesses that for a long while a cold chill came over
+him whenever he thought of the eye. He has at length got over that stage
+of the complaint, and is now in the fever of belief, perchance to be
+succeeded by the sweating stage, during which sundry peccant humors may
+be eliminated from the system.
+
+For ourselves, we dread the chill, and have some misgiving about the
+consequences of the reaction. We find ourselves in the "singular
+position" acknowledged by Pictet,--that is, confronted with a theory
+which, although it can really explain much, seems inadequate to the
+heavy task it so boldly assumes, but which, nevertheless, appears better
+fitted than any other that has been broached to explain, if it be
+possible to explain, somewhat of the manner in which organized beings
+may have arisen and succeeded each other. In this dilemma we might take
+advantage of Mr. Darwin's candid admission, that he by no means expects
+to convince old and experienced people, whose minds are stocked with a
+multitude of facts all viewed during a long course of years from the old
+point of view. This is nearly our case. So, owning no call to a larger
+faith than is expected of us, but not prepared to pronounce the whole
+hypothesis untenable, under such construction as we should put upon it,
+we naturally sought to attain a settled conviction through a perusal
+of several proffered refutations of the theory. At least, this course
+seemed to offer the readiest way of bringing to a head the various
+objections to which the theory is exposed. On several accounts some
+of these opposed reviews specially invite examination. We propose,
+accordingly, to conclude our task with an article upon "Darwin and his
+Reviewers."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+_Modern Painters_. By J. RUSKIN. Vol. V. Smith, Elder, & Co. London.
+
+The completion of a work of the importance of the "Modern Painters,"
+which has occupied in its production the thought and a large portion of
+the labor of fourteen years, is an event of more interest than it often
+falls to the lot of a book to excite; but when, as in this case, the
+result shows the development of an individual taste and critical ability
+entirely without peer in the history of art-letters, the value of the
+whole work is immensely enhanced by the time which its publication
+covers.
+
+The first volume of "Modern Painters" was, as everybody will remember,
+one of the sensation-books of the time, and fell upon the public opinion
+of the day like a thunderbolt from the clear sky. Denying, and in many
+instances overthrowing, the received canons of criticism, and defying
+all the accepted authorities in it, the author excited the liveliest
+astonishment and the bitterest hostility of the professional critics in
+general, and at once divided the world of art, so far as his influence
+reached, into two parts: the one embracing most of the reverent and
+conservative minds, and by far the larger; the other, most of the
+enthusiastic, the radical, and earnest; but this, small in numbers
+at first, was increased, and still increases, by the force of those
+qualities of enthusiasm and earnestness, until now, in England, it
+embraces nearly all of the true and living art of our time. But that
+volume, professedly treating art with reference to its superficial
+attributes and for a special purpose, the redemption of a great and
+revered artist from unjust disparagement and undeserved neglect,
+touched in scarcely the least degree the vital questions of taste or
+art-production. It had no considerations of sentiment or discussion of
+principles to offer: it dealt with facts, and touched the simple truths
+of Nature with an enthusiastic fire and lucidness which were proof
+positive of the knowledge and feeling of the author; and the public,
+either conversant with those facts or capable of being satisfied of
+them without much thought, abandoned itself to the fascination of his
+eloquence and acquiesced in his teachings, or arrayed itself in utter
+hostility to him and his new ideas.
+
+The second volume was more abstruse and deeper in feeling, and
+comparatively few of Mr. Ruskin's followers through the first cared
+to get entangled in the metaphysical mazes of the second, and it is
+generally neglected, although containing some of the deepest and most
+satisfactory studies on the fundamental principles of art and taste
+which have ever been printed.
+
+The third and fourth volumes, coming up again nearer the surface, made
+an application of the principles investigated to the material for art
+which Nature furnishes; and here again the author found in part his
+audience diminished among those who had at first been carried away by
+his enthusiasm or silenced and convinced by his unhesitating dogmatism.
+A partial reaction took place, owing not only to the change in the tone
+of the "Modern Painters," but to the springing up of a new school of
+painting, the consequence, mainly and legitimately, of the teachings of
+the work,--the pre-Raphaelite,--which, at once attacked virulently and
+immeasurably by the old school of critics, and defended as earnestly by
+Mr. Ruskin, became the subject of the war which was still waged between
+him and them. Turner in the meanwhile had passed away and was admitted
+to apotheosis, the malignant critics of yesterday becoming the ignorant
+adulators of to-day: _his_ position was conceded, but the hostility to
+Ruskin was sustained with unabated bitterness on the new field. He
+was demolished anew, and proved, many useless times over and over, an
+ignorant pretender; the public in the meanwhile, even his opponents,
+taking up in turn his _protégés_, as he pointed them out to their
+notice. The effect of his criticisms in enhancing the value of the works
+they approved would be incredible, if one did not know how glad an
+English public is to be led. As a single instance,--a drawing which was
+sold from one of the water-color exhibitions at fifty guineas, sold
+again, after Ruskin's notice, at two hundred and fifty; and in the lists
+of pictures sold or to be sold at auction, one sees constantly, "Noticed
+by Mr. Ruskin," "Approved by Mr. Ruskin," appended to the title.
+
+The third volume, being devoted to the correction of the ideas of Style
+and the Ideal, to Finish, and a review of the Past Landscape-Painting,
+recurs to Turner in its closing chapter, "On his Teachers"; the fourth
+was given to Mountain _Beauty_, following the parallel of the first,
+which treated of the _Truth_ of Mountains, and bearing as its burden of
+moral the expression of that Ideal by Turner; and the fifth now comes to
+conclude the investigations on the Ideal by chapters: first, on "Leaf
+Beauty," an exceedingly interesting investigation of the development
+of the forms of trees and plants as concerned with the laws of beauty;
+second, "Cloud Beauty"; and then of the "Ideas of Relation," in which
+the author comes finally to the demonstration of the right of Turner to
+his position amongst the thinking and poetic painters.
+
+From the first division, "Leaf Beauty," we must make one extract.
+The author has been speaking of the, influence of the Pine on Swiss
+character.
+
+"But the point which I desire the reader to note is, that the character
+of the scene which, if any, appears to have been impressive to the
+inhabitant is not that which we ourselves feel when we enter the
+district. It was not from their lakes, nor their cliffs, nor their
+glaciers, though these were all peculiarly their possession, that the
+three venerable cantons or states received their name. They were not
+called the States of the Rock, nor the States of the Lake, but the
+States of the _Forest_. And the one of the three which contains the most
+touching record of the spiritual power of Swiss religion, in the name of
+the convent of the 'Hill of Angels,' has for its own none but the sweet,
+childish name of 'Under the Woods.'
+
+"And, indeed, you may pass under them, if, leaving the most sacred spot
+in Swiss history, the Meadow of the Three Fountains, you bid the boatman
+row southward a little way by the Bay of Uri. Steepest there, on its
+western side, the walls of its rocks ascend to heaven. Far in the blue
+of evening, like a great cathedral-pavement, lies the lake in its
+darkness; and you may hear the whisper of innumerable falling waters
+return from the hollows of the cliff like the voices of a multitude
+praying under their breath. From time to time, the beat of a wave, slow
+lifted, where the rocks lean over the black depth, dies heavily as the
+last note of a requiem. Opposite, green with steep grass and set with
+châlet villages, the Tron Alp rises in one solemn glow of pastoral light
+and peace; and above, against the clouds of twilight, ghostly on the
+gray precipice, stand, myriad by myriad, the shadowy armies of the
+Unterwalden pine.
+
+"I have seen that it is possible for the stranger to pass through this
+great chapel, with its font of waters, and mountain pillars, and vaults
+of cloud, without being touched by one noble thought or stirred by any
+sacred passion; but for those who received from its waves the baptism
+of their youth, and learned beneath its rocks the fidelity of their
+manhood, and watched amidst its clouds the likeness of the dream of
+life, with the eyes of age,--for these I will not believe that the
+mountain-shrine was built or the calm of its forest-shadows guarded by
+their God in vain."
+
+But perhaps that conclusion of Ruskin's, in the new volume, which will
+most interest his earnest readers, is that the Venetian school is _the
+only religious school that has ever existed_. So much has Ruskin's
+development seemed to contradict itself, that one is scarcely surprised
+at one conclusion being apparently opposed to the former one; but a
+change so great as this, from Giotto, Perugino, and Cima, to Tintoret,
+Titian, and Veronese, as the religious ideals, will, indeed, amaze all
+who read it. Yet this is but the logical consequence of his progression
+hitherto. If he commenced with a belief that asceticism was religion, he
+would recognize Perugino and Giotto as the true religious artists; but
+if, as seems to be the case, he has learned at last that religion is a
+thing of daily life, mingling in all that we do, caring for body as well
+as soul, sense as well as spirit, and that a complete man must be a
+man who _lives_ in every sense of the word, then the Venetians, as the
+painters of the truth of life in _all_ its joy and sorrow, are the true
+painters, and the only ones whose art was inhabited by a religion worth
+following.
+
+It is interesting to follow what are called Ruskin's contradictions and
+see how perfectly they represent the whole system of artistic truth, as
+seen from the different points of a young artist's or student's growth
+up to mature and ripened judgment; so that there is no stage of artistic
+development which has not some form of truth particularly adapted to it,
+in the "Modern Painters." If it be urged that the book should have been
+written only from the point of final development, it can only be said
+that no true book will ever he so written, for no man can ever be
+certain of his having attained final truth. "Modern Painters" has
+value in this very showing of the critical development, which to an
+intelligent student is greater than that a complete and infallible guide
+could have.
+
+The chapter on Invention is full of the most delightful artistic truth,
+and shows completely, by copious illustrations, how well Turner deserved
+the rank Ruskin gives him amongst great composers. The analyses of the
+compositions of Turner are most curious and interesting, but, of course,
+depend on the accompanying plates. Some most valuable mental philosophy
+bearing on the production of art-works concludes Part VIII., which
+is devoted to "Invention Formal," of which we quote the concluding
+paragraphs:--
+
+"Until the feelings can give strength enough to the will to enable it
+to conquer them, they are not strong enough. If you cannot leave your
+picture at any moment, cannot turn from it and go on with another while
+the color is drying, cannot work at any part of it you choose with equal
+contentment, you have not firm enough grasp of it.
+
+"It follows, also, that no vain or selfish person can possibly paint,
+in the noble sense of the word. Vanity and selfishness are troublous,
+eager, anxious, petulant: painting can only be done in calm of mind.
+Resolution is not enough to secure this; it must be secured by
+disposition as well. You may resolve to think of your picture only; but,
+if you have been fretted before beginning, no manly or clear grasp of
+it will be possible for you. No forced calm is calm enough: only honest
+calm, natural calm. You might as well try by external pressure to smooth
+a lake till it could reflect the sky, as by violence of effort to secure
+the peace through which only you can reach imagination. That peace must
+come in its own time, as the waters settle themselves into clearness as
+well as quietness: you can no more filter your mind into purity than you
+can compress it into calmness; you must keep it pure, if you would have
+it pure; and throw no stones into it, if you would have it quiet. Great
+courage and self-command may to a certain extent give power of painting
+without the true calmness underneath, but never of doing first-rate
+work. There is sufficient evidence of this in even what we know of great
+men, though of the greatest we nearly always know the least (and that
+necessarily; they being very silent, and not much given to setting
+themselves forth to questioners,--apt to be contemptuously reserved no
+less than unselfishly). But in such writings and sayings as we possess
+of theirs we may trace a quite curious gentleness and serene courtesy.
+Rubens's letters are almost ludicrous in their unhurried politeness.
+Reynolds, swiftest of painters, was gentlest of companions; so also
+Velasquez, Titian, and Veronese.
+
+"It is gratuitous to add that no shallow or petty person can paint. Mere
+cleverness or special gift never made an artist. It is only perfectness
+of mind, unity, depth, decision, the highest qualities, in fine, of the
+intellect, which will form the imagination.
+
+"And, lastly, no false person can paint. A person false at heart may,
+when it suits his purposes, seize a stray truth here or there; but the
+relations of truth, its perfectness, that which makes it wholesome
+truth, he can never perceive. As wholeness and wholesomeness go
+together, so also sight with sincerity; it is only the constant desire
+of and submissiveness to truth, which can measure its strange angles
+and mark its infinite aspects, and fit them and knit them into sacred
+invention.
+
+"Sacred I call it deliberately; for it is thus in the most accurate
+senses, humble as well as helpful,--meek in its receiving as magnificent
+in its disposing; the name it bears being rightly given even to
+invention formal, not because it forms, but because it finds. For you
+cannot find a lie; you must make it for yourself. False things may be
+imagined, and false things composed; but only truth can be invented."
+
+One of those cardinal doctrines by which we may learn the bearings of a
+writer's system of truth is that of Ruskin's of the intimate connection
+between landscape art and humanity.
+
+"Fragrant tissue of flowers, golden circlet of clouds, are only fair
+when they meet the fondness of human thoughts and glorify human visions
+of heaven.
+
+"It is the leaning on this truth which more than any other has been the
+distinctive character of all my own past work. And in closing a series
+of art-studies, prolonged during so many years, it may be perhaps
+permitted me to point out this specialty,--the rather that it has been,
+of all their characters, the one most denied. I constantly see that the
+same thing takes place in the estimation formed by the modern public of
+the work of almost any true person, living or dead. It is not needful
+to state here the causes of such error; but the fact is indeed so, that
+precisely the distinctive root and leading force of any true man's work
+and way are the things denied him.
+
+"And in these books of mine, their distinctive character, as essays on
+art, is their bringing everything to a root in human passion or human
+hope. Arising first not in any desire to explain the principles of art,
+but in the endeavor to defend an individual painter from injustice, they
+have been colored throughout, nay, continually altered in shape, and
+even warped and broken, by digressions respecting social questions,
+which had for me an interest tenfold greater than the work I had been
+forced into undertaking. Every principle of painting which I have
+stated is traced to some vital or spiritual fact; and in my works on
+architecture the preference accorded finally to one school over another
+is founded on a comparison of their influences on the life of the
+workman,--a question by all other writers on the subject of architecture
+wholly forgotten or despised.
+
+"The essential connection of the power of landscape with human emotion
+is not less certain because in many impressive pictures the link is
+slight or local. That the connection should exist at a single point is
+all that we need.... That difference, and more, exists between the power
+of Nature through which humanity is seen, and her power in the desert.
+Desert,--whether of leaf or sand,--true desertness, is not in the want
+of leaves, but of life. Where humanity is not and was not, the best
+natural beauty is more than vain. It is even terrible; not as the
+dress cast aside from the body, but as an embroidered shroud hiding a
+skeleton."
+
+The volume, as a whole, will be found less dogmatic, calmer, more
+convincing, and more directly applicable to artistic judgment, than any
+of the others. There is the same love of mysticism and undermeanings,
+but freighted with deeper and more central truths: a charming conclusion
+to a fourteen-years' diary of such study of Art and Nature, so severe,
+so unremitting, as never critic gave before.
+
+
+_Syntax of the Moods and Tenses of the Greek Verb._ By W.W. GOODWIN,
+Ph.D. Cambridge: Sever and Francis.
+
+Grammarians had once a simple way of disposing of the subject on which
+Professor Goodwin has given us this elaborate treatise of three hundred
+pages.
+
+In the Greek Grammar of the Messieurs de Port Royal, which Gibbon
+praises so highly in his charming autobiography, and which has passed
+through several editions in England within the present century, we
+are taught, that, "though the moods [in Greek] are not to be rejected
+entirely, yet their signification is sometimes so very arbitrary, that
+they are put for one another through all tenses." Lancelot himself
+seems to have had a glimmering of the essential incredibility of this
+statement; for, though he attempts to substantiate it by citing from
+Greek authors a number of passages in which the Greek idiom happens to
+differ from the Latin,--passages, however, which Mr. Goodwin would have
+been glad to use, had they fallen in his way, to illustrate the regular
+constructions of the language,--he feels it necessary to appeal to
+the authority of the learned Budæus, the greatest of the early Greek
+scholars. Strange as it seems that really accomplished Greek scholars
+should have charged Plato and Demosthenes, speaking the most perfect of
+tongues, with arbitrary interchanges of moods and tenses, yet the same
+views continued to be presented in grammatical works down to the close
+of the last century. The transition to the new school of grammarians was
+made in 1792, by the publication of a Greek Grammar by Philip Buttmann,
+which, in the greatly improved form which it afterwards received from
+his hands, is familiar to all Greek scholars. In our frequent boasts of
+the great strides that knowledge has taken in the present century, we
+commonly have in mind the physical sciences; but we doubt whether in any
+department of physical science the manuals in use seventy-five years
+ago are so utterly inferior to those of the present day as are, for
+instance, the remarks of Viger, and his commentators before Hermann, on
+the syntax of the Greek verb, to the philosophical treatment of the same
+points by Professor Goodwin.
+
+This work is entitled, we think, to rank with the best grammars of the
+Greek language that have appeared in German or English, in all the
+points that constitute grammatical excellence; while its monographic
+character justified and required an exhaustive treatment of its
+particular topic, not to be found even in the huge grammars of Matthiæ
+and Kühner. Indeed, not the least of its merits is this, that, in
+addition to the excellent matter which is original with Professor
+Goodwin, it furnishes to the student, American or English,--for we hope
+to see its merits recognized on the other side of the Atlantic,--a
+digest, as it were, of all that is most valuable on the subject of the
+syntax of the Greek verb in the best German grammars, from Buttmann
+to Madvig, enhanced, too, in value by being recast and worked into a
+homogeneous system by an acute scholar and experienced teacher. One
+excellence of the book we would by no means pass over, an excellence
+which we are sure will be particularly appreciated by all who have used
+translations of German grammars,--the precision both of thought and
+expression by which it is characterized, which releases the student from
+the labor of constructing the meaning of a rule from the data of the
+appended examples. Not that Mr. Goodwin is chary of examples; on the
+contrary, one of the most attractive and not least profitable features
+of the book is the copiousness and freshness of the illustrative
+quotations from Greek authors. These are as welcome as the brightness of
+newly minted coin to the eye which, in consulting grammar after grammar,
+has been condemned to meet under corresponding rules always the same
+examples, till they begin to produce that effect upon the nerves which
+all have experienced at the mention of the deadly upas-tree, or the
+imminence of the dissolution of the Union.
+
+We must not omit to speak of the typographical merit of the work,--and
+especially of what constitutes the first and the last merit of books of
+this class, the excellent table of contents, and the indexes, Greek and
+English, which leave nothing to be desired in the way of facility of
+reference, except, perhaps, an index to the quotations.
+
+
+_The Law of the Territories_. Philadelphia: C. Sherman & Son.
+
+The author of the two able essays contained in this volume will be
+remembered by many of our readers under his assumed name of "Cecil."
+The second, as he himself tells us, on "Popular Sovereignty in the
+Territories," was published, as one of a series of essays on Southern
+politics, in the Philadelphia _North American and United States
+Gazette_. The first, we believe, has never been published before.
+
+Our author, whom we may designate, without violating any confidence, as
+Mr. George Sidney Fisher, devotes an elaborate preface, which is itself
+a third essay, to discussing the invasion of Virginia by John Brown and
+the Southern threats of secession, drawing from the foray of Harper's
+Ferry a conclusion very different from that of the disunionists. In his
+own words,--
+
+ "Disunion is a word of fear. Is it not
+ strange that it should have been as yet pronounced
+ only by the South? The danger of
+ insurrection and servile war belongs to the
+ nature of slavery. It is, perhaps, not too much
+ to assert that the safety and tranquillity of
+ Southern society depend on the fact that the
+ Northern people are close at hand to aid in
+ case of need,--that the power of the General
+ Government is ever ready for the same purpose.
+ Four millions of barbarians, growing
+ with tropical vigor, and soon to be eight millions,
+ with tropical passions boiling in their
+ blood, endowed with native courage, with
+ sinews strong by toil, and stimulated by the
+ hope of liberty and unbounded license, are
+ not to be trifled with. Take away from them
+ the idea of an irresistible power in the North,
+ ready at any moment to be invoked by their
+ masters, or let them expect in the North, not
+ enemies, but friends and supporters, which
+ even now they are told every day by these
+ masters they may expect,--and how soon
+ might a flame be lighted which no power in
+ the South could extinguish!"
+
+Mr. Fisher treats of the "Law of the Territories" in two essays,--the
+first considering more particularly "The Territories and the
+Constitution," the second, "Popular Sovereignty in the Territories." The
+first commences with a quotation so happy that it has all the effect of
+original wit:--
+
+ "The wily and witty Talleyrand was once
+ asked the meaning of the word 'non-intervention,'
+ so often used in European diplomacy.
+ 'It is a word,' he replied, 'metaphysical and
+ political, not accurately defined, but which
+ means--much the same thing as intervention!'
+ The same word has been frequently
+ employed, of late years, in our politics, with
+ the same difference between its professed
+ and its practical signification. It was introduced
+ for the first time in reference to the
+ government of the Territories, when it became
+ an object for the South to gain Kansas as a
+ Slave State. Two obstacles were to be overcome.
+ One was the Missouri Compromise,
+ which was a solemn compact between North
+ and South to settle a disturbing and dangerous
+ question; the other was a possible majority
+ in Congress, that, it was feared, might prohibit
+ slavery in the new Territory. Southern
+ politicians had at the time control of the government;
+ and they got rid of both difficulties
+ by repealing the Missouri Compromise in the
+ Kansas and Nebraska Bill. By necessary implication,
+ arising from the relation of the Territories
+ to the rest of the nation, by the language
+ of the Constitution, and by the uniform
+ construction of it and practice under it from
+ the earliest period of our history, the Territories
+ had been subjected to the absolute control
+ of the General Government. By the Kansas
+ and Nebraska Bill they were withdrawn
+ from that control. The principle of Popular
+ Sovereignty, it was said, applied to them as
+ well as to the States; and this bill declared
+ that the people of the Territories should be
+ perfectly free to choose their own domestic
+ institutions and regulate their own affairs in
+ their own way."
+
+The means employed to carry out this plan and the ultimate failure of
+the plan itself are sketched with a boldness and vigor that our limits,
+much to our regret, forbid our reproducing. Mr. Fisher, however, fails
+to notice the wretched plea put forth by the Democratic managers,
+in favor of the recognition by Congress of the Lecompton
+Constitution,--that it had been officially authenticated. All might be
+wrong, but the official record pronounced it right; and behind that
+record Congress had no authority to go. And this plea was advanced in
+the face of overwhelming evidence tending to show that the officials,
+for whose record so inviolable a sanctity was claimed, were appointed
+for the express purpose of falsifying that record! If confirmation be
+wanted, we need go no farther than the fate of Robert J. Walker, who was
+eager to make Kansas a Slave State, but was so false to every principle
+of Democratic integrity as to confine himself to legitimate means to
+bring about that result,--a remissness for which he was promptly removed
+by President Buchanan! Mr. Fisher pertinently says,--
+
+"Two great facts were plainly visible through the flimsy web of attorney
+logic and quibbling technicality, not very ingeniously woven to conceal
+them. One of these facts was, that the people of Kansas were heartily
+and almost unanimously averse to slavery; the other was, that the
+Government was trying by every means in its power to impose slavery upon
+them."
+
+After describing the contemptuous rejection by the people of Kansas of
+the pro-slavery constitution, Mr. Fisher proceeds with an analysis of
+the Kansas-Nebraska fraud, so clear and so masterly that we must again
+quote his own language, with an occasional condensation or omission.
+
+"It was clear, therefore, that the principle of Popular Sovereignty,
+introduced by the Kansas and Nebraska Bill, a principle before unknown
+to the law and practice of our government, would not suit the South.
+It appeared too probable that not only the people to inhabit all the
+territory north of 36° 30', but also much territory south of it, would,
+like the people of Kansas, reject slavery, if left to regulate their
+domestic institutions in their own way. What, then, were Southern
+politicians to do? Invoke the ancient and long exercised, but now denied
+and derided power of Congress over the Territories? This might prove a
+dangerous weapon in the hands of possible future Northern majorities. It
+was obviously necessary to withdraw slavery alike from the control of
+Congress and of the people of a Territory. Some ingenuity was required
+for this. The doctrine that the Constitution extends to the Territories
+(a doctrine broached before by Mr. Calhoun, but always defeated on the
+ground that the Constitution, by its language and the practice under it,
+was made for States only, and that the Territories were subject to the
+supreme control of Congress,--a control frequently exercised, not only
+independently of the Constitution, but in a manner incompatible with it)
+was introduced, with other innovations, into the Kansas and Nebraska
+Bill. The Dred Scott decision of the Supreme Court followed, by which
+the Constitution recognizes slavery as a national institution. It
+recognizes slaves as mere property, differing in no respect from other
+merchandise. The Territories belong to the nation. Every citizen has
+equal rights to them and in them. Why, therefore, may not a Southern
+man, as well as a Northern man, go into them with his _property_? What
+right has Congress to place the South under an ignominious bar of
+restriction? The Constitution declares that slaves are property; that
+all the States and the people have equal rights. The Territories belong
+to all. Therefore, under the Constitution, they should be enjoyed by
+all.
+
+"By this ingenious logic the Kansas and Nebraska Bill is made to
+contradict itself. It first declares that the Constitution extends to
+the Territories; in other words, slavery exists there by force of the
+Constitution, without reference to the will of the people. It then says
+that the people of the Territories shall be 'perfectly free to form and
+regulate their domestic institutions in their own way.'
+
+"The contradictions, duplicity, and absurdity of the law are obvious at
+once. The first sentence announces a change in the settled principles
+and policy of the Government; else why declare that the Constitution
+'_shall_' extend to Nebraska, if it already extended there? Then comes
+the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The reason given for this is,
+that it is inconsistent with the non-intervention by Congress with
+slavery, recognized in the Compromise of 1850. But that law declares
+positively that Congress does not intervene, _because it is
+'inexpedient'_ to do so; and gives the reason why it is inexpedient. The
+_power_ of Congress _was asserted_ by Mr. Clay, who made the law, and
+the terms of it were chosen for the very purpose of preventing any
+inference being drawn from it against that power.
+
+"It is remarkable, too, that the Bill, whilst declaring the _perfect_
+freedom of the Territories, should still have left them subject to the
+power of the President, who, as before, is permitted to appoint their
+Governor, Judges, and Marshals, officers who are his agents, and without
+whose sanction the acts of the Territorial Legislature can neither
+become laws, nor be construed and applied, nor executed. So that the
+will of the people may be defeated, should it happen to be opposed to
+the will of the President: as was seen in the case of Kansas.
+
+"Why," Mr. Fisher asks, "is the anomalous monster of Popular Sovereignty
+to be introduced with reference to slavery? Is it because slaves are
+'mere property'? Why, then, not subject all property, land included, to
+popular control? Is it because the subject of slavery is an exciting
+topic, a theme for dangerous agitation, to be checked only by placing
+the subject beyond the power of Congress? The answer is, that Congress
+cannot abdicate its power on the ground of expediency. If it may give up
+one power, it may give up all. Nor can Congress delegate its power for
+the same reason. Trust power, from its very nature, cannot be delegated.
+To break down great principles, to set aside ancient usage, to abandon
+legal authority, in order to appease the contests of parties, is too
+great a sacrifice. No true peace can come of it; only suppressed and
+adjourned war."
+
+The natural inference from the extracts we have given would be that Mr.
+Fisher was a member of the Republican party. But such is not the fact:
+Mr. Fisher rests his hope upon a party "yet to be organized." "The
+extreme Northern, or Free-soil, or Abolition party is only less guilty
+than the extreme Southern and Democratic party." Which? Does Mr. Fisher
+mean that "Northern," "Free-soil," and "Abolition" are synonymous terms?
+And does any or do all of them mean the Republican party? Or, finally,
+does Mr. Fisher shrink from the conclusions presented by his logic, and
+is his vaguely convenient linking together of different words intended
+to leave his position gracefully doubtful? And in that case, do the
+Baltimore nominations, with their innocent unconsciousness, supply his
+political needs? It is not easy to answer these questions. We begin now
+upon the views of a Pennsylvania Oppositionist; and quicksilver defied
+not more utterly the skill of Raymond Lullius than the doctrines of the
+Philadelphia school perplex the inquiries of sharply defined New England
+minds. The rudimentary state of Republican principles may nowhere else
+be so clearly seen as in Pennsylvania. Four years of the Democratic
+administration of her "favorite son" have done much to make her less
+favored sons into good Republicans; but the State needs another
+Democratic President. Mr. Fisher appears to much more advantage in
+pulling down than in building up. We have hitherto seen only the keen,
+fearless dissector of fraud and hypocrisy; we are now to contemplate a
+circumspect alarmist, who dreads to call things by their right names
+for fear of unpleasant consequences. He is such a master of English,
+so judicious in the use of middle terms,--so shrewd a fencer
+altogether,--that even his timidity cannot make him other than a
+formidable opponent.
+
+Mr. Fisher, believing that slavery receives ample protection from a fair
+interpretation of the Constitution, holds that
+
+"Congress has plenary power over the Territories, often exercised on
+this subject of slavery. It may be said that Congress has on various
+occasions prohibited slavery in the Territories. True; but with the
+consent and coöperation of the Southern States. The people of all the
+States have equal right in the Territories. To exclude the people of the
+Slave States, therefore, _without their consent_, would be unequal and
+opposed to the spirit of the Constitution."
+
+Certainly it would. Who proposes to do it? No living man, woman, or
+child. It is worth noticing, by the way, that the Republican party is
+not committed to the doctrine of carrying out the principle of the
+Wilmot Proviso. But supposing it were, Mr. Fisher's argument has
+no force or direction, unless he can establish his suppressed
+premise,--that the exclusion of slavery from the Territories is the
+exclusion of "the people of the Slave States" from the Territories.
+And to make that good, all Mr. Fisher's skill and ingenuity will
+be required. Why so many Northern politicians should have weakly
+surrendered this point is a mystery. Because the slaveholders (who are
+not, Mr. Fisher, "the people of the Slave States," by any means, but a
+small portion of them) are at home a privileged aristocracy, have they
+any claim to the same position abroad? If so, on what does it rest? The
+laws of the Southern States? They are now beyond their jurisdiction. The
+common law? To that wise and beneficent law slavery is a thing unknown.
+The Constitution? It is silent. There is no exclusion of the Southerners
+even proposed. Let them come: but when they claim to carry with them
+the right to hold a certain class of men as property because they
+are recognized as property by certain local regulations elsewhere
+prevailing, they must not complain, if such a claim be disallowed. The
+Southerner's complaint, that he is accustomed to the institution of
+slavery, is fairly met by the Northerner's retort, that he is accustomed
+to the institution of freedom.
+
+Now, which voice shall prevail? Neither party has any more right than
+the other; and neither party has any right at all. The Territories are
+in a state of wardship; and Congress is to decide as it thinks best for
+their welfare, present and future; and if Congress thinks that a nation
+prospers with free institutions and droops under slavery, then let
+Congress admit the Territory as a Free State. True, there is some
+inconvenience to the slave-holder; but from so abnormal a relation as
+slavery some inconvenience must result. When admitted to be a necessary
+evil, it is barely tolerable; when boastingly proclaimed to be a
+sovereign good, it is fairly intolerable. And it is both criminal and
+foolish to try to make good all the evils inseparable from slavery by
+systematic injustice to other interests.
+
+ "Slavery has changed. When Southern
+ men consented to its prohibition, they hoped
+ and believed that the time would come when
+ it could be abolished altogether. They have
+ as much right to these as to their former opinions,
+ and to have them represented in the
+ Government."
+
+Here Mr. Fisher hints at, rather than fully states, the grand retort of
+the Southerners,--"Our fathers, you say, were opposed to slavery: very
+good; but we are not: why should we be bound by their opinions?" A mere
+misapprehension of the force of the argument. The Southerner of 1860 is
+_not_ bound by the opinions of Madison and Jefferson; but the North
+may fairly adduce the opinions of those men, who were framers of the
+Constitution, not as binding upon their descendants, but as serving to
+explain the meaning of disputed provisions in that Constitution. The
+Constitution binds us all, North and South: then recurs the question,
+What is the meaning of its provisions? and _then_ the contemporaneous
+opinions of its framers come legitimately into play as an argument.
+
+Of the Missouri Compromise Mr. Fisher says,--
+
+ "It may be said that this law was a violation
+ of the equal rights of the Southern people,
+ by excluding them from a large portion
+ of the national domain. The answer is, not
+ merely that this was done with their consent,
+ their representatives having approved the law,
+ but that the law did recognize their rights,
+ by dividing between them and the Northern
+ people all the territory then possessed by the
+ Government."
+
+We are surprised that upon his own presentation of the case this simple
+question does not occur to Mr. Fisher: Supposing the South and the North
+to have had equal and conflicting rights in the national domain, and
+supposing that there was need of some arbiter, and remembering that
+Congress undertook the duties of arbiter and decided that the
+division under the Missouri Compromise gave each section its rightful
+share,--then, with what propriety can the South, after occupying its own
+share, call for a portion in the share allotted to the North?
+
+The second essay, on "Popular Sovereignty in the Territories," presents
+comparatively few salient points. A very spirited and just history of
+the working of the Administration schemes in Kansas, a restating of
+some of the arguments against the Kansas-Nebraska Act set forth in the
+preceding essay, and a remonstrance against the headstrong course of
+Southern politicians are its most noticeable features.
+
+ "The Union, the Constitution, and the
+ friendship of the North: these are the pillars
+ on which rest the peace, the safety, the
+ independence of the South. The extraordinary
+ thing is, that for some years past the South
+ has been, and now is, sedulously employed in
+ undermining this triple foundation of its power
+ and safety. Its extravagant pretensions,
+ its excesses, its crimes, are rapidly cooling
+ the friendship of the North,--converting it,
+ indeed, into positive enmity. Its leading politicians
+ are ever plotting and threatening disunion.
+ disunion will he proffered to them from the North, not
+ as a vague and passionate threat, but as a positive
+ and well-considered plan, backed by a
+ force of public opinion which nothing can resist.
+ Ere long, the South is likely to be left
+ with no other defence than the Union it has
+ weakened and the Constitution it has mutilated
+ and defaced.
+
+ "The makers of the Kansas and Nebraska
+ law were clumsy workmen. They forgot to
+ provide for the case of an anti-slavery President.
+ They will, perhaps, learn wisdom by
+ experience.
+
+ "'To wilful men
+ The injuries that they themselves procure
+ Must be their schoolmasters.'
+
+ "Those who framed the Constitution and laid
+ the foundation of this Union understood their
+ business better. That Constitution was intended
+ to protect the South, and has protected
+ it. Southern politicians cannot improve
+ it. For their own sakes they had better
+ let it alone."
+
+We have given enough to show that in discussing Mr. Fisher we are
+dealing with two different men. The field is now clear for the great
+political contest of 1860. Mr. Fisher may have allied himself before
+this with the Republicans, or may look to have his anticipations
+fulfilled by that third party who are as unconscious of wrong as
+powerless to rectify it, "the world-forgetting, by the world forgot." We
+wish him well through his troubles.
+
+
+_A Dictionary of English Etymology._ By HENSLEIGH WEDGWOOD, M. A. Late
+Fellow of Chr. Coll. Cam. Vol. I. (A-D.) London: Trübner and Co., 60
+Paternoster Row. 1859. pp. xxiv., 507.
+
+There is nothing more dangerously fascinating than etymologies. To the
+uninitiated the victim seems to have eaten of "insane _roots_ that take
+the reason prisoner"; while the illuminate too often looks upon the
+stems and flowers of language, the highest achievements of thought and
+poesy, as mere handles by which to pull up the grimy tubers that lie at
+the base of articulate expression, shapeless knobs of speech, sacred to
+him as the potato to the Irishman.
+
+The sarcasms of Swift were not without justification; for crazier
+analogies than that between Andromache and Andrew Mackay have been
+gravely insisted on by persons who, like the author of "Amilec,"
+believed that the true secret of philosophizing _est celui de rêver
+heureusement_. It is only within a few years that etymological
+investigations have been limited by anything; like scientific precision,
+or that profound study, patient thought, and severity of method
+have asserted in this, as in other departments of knowledge, their
+superiority to point-blank guessing and the bewitching generalization
+conjured out of a couple or so of assumed facts, which, even if they
+turn out to be singly true, are no more nearly related than Hecate and
+green cheese.
+
+We do not object to that milder form of philology of which the works
+of Dean Trench offer the readiest and most pleasing example, and which
+confines itself to the mere study of words, to the changes of form and
+meaning they have undergone and the forgotten moral that lurks in them.
+But the interest of Dr. Trench and others like him sticks fast in words,
+it is almost wholly an aesthetic interest, and does not pretend to
+concern itself with the deeper problems of language, its origin, its
+comparative anatomy, its bearing upon the prehistoric condition of
+mankind and the relations of races, and its claim to a place among the
+natural sciences as an essential element in any attempt to reconstruct
+the broken and scattered annals of our planet. It would not be just to
+find fault with Dr. Trench's books for lacking a scientific treatment
+to which they make no pretension, but they may fairly be charged with
+smelling a little too much of the shop. There is a faint odor of the
+sermon-case about every page, and we learn to dread, sometimes to skip,
+the inevitable homily, as we do the moral at the end of an Æsopic fable.
+We enter our protest, not against Dr. Trench in particular, for his
+books have other and higher claims to our regard, but because we find
+that his example is catching, the more so as verbal morality is much
+cheaper than linguistic science. If there be anything which the study of
+words should teach, it is their value.
+
+There are two theories as to the origin of language, which, for
+shortness, may be defined as the poetic and the matter-of-fact. The
+former (of which M. Ernest Renan is one of the most eloquent advocates)
+supposes a primitive race or races endowed with faculties of cognition
+and expression so perfect and so intimately responsive one to the
+other, that the name of a thing came into being coincidently with the
+perception of it. Verbal inflections and other grammatical forms came
+into use gradually to meet the necessities of social commerce between
+man and man, and were at some later epoch reduced to logical system by
+constructive minds. If we understand him rightly, while not excluding
+the influence of _onomatopeia_, (or physical imitation,) he would attach
+a far greater importance to metaphysical causes. He says admirably
+well, "La liaison du sens et du mot n'est jamais _nécessaire_, jamais
+_arbitraire_; toujours elle est _motivée_." His theory amounts to this:
+that the fresh perfection of the senses and the mental faculties made
+the primitive man a poet.
+
+The other theory seeks the origin of language in certain imitative
+radicals out of which it has analogically and metaphorically developed
+itself. This system has at least the merits of clearness and simplicity,
+and of being to a certain extent capable of demonstration. Its
+limitation in this last respect will depend upon that mental
+constitution which divides men naturally into Platonists and
+Aristotelians. It has never before received so thorough an exposition
+or been tested by so wide a range of application as in Mr. Wedgwood's
+volume, nor could it well be more fortunate in its advocate. Mr.
+Wedgwood is thorough, scrupulous, and fair-minded.
+
+It will be observed that neither theory brings any aid to the attempt
+of Professor Max Müller and others to demonstrate etymologically the
+original unity of the human race. Mr. Wedgwood leaves this question
+aside, as irrelevant to his purpose. M. Renan combats it at considerable
+length. The logical consequence of admitting either theory would be that
+the problem was simply indemonstrable.
+
+At first sight, so imaginative a scheme as that of M. Renan is
+singularly alluring; for, even when qualified by the sentence we have
+quoted, we may attach such a meaning to the word _motivée_ as to find in
+words the natural bodies of which the Platonic ideas are the soul and
+spirit. We find in it a correlative illustration of that notion not
+uncommon among primitive poets, and revived by the Cabalists, that
+whoever knew the Word of a thing was master of the thing itself, and an
+easy way of accounting for the innate fitness and necessity, the fore
+ordination, which stamps the phrases of real poets. If, on the other
+hand, we accept Mr. Wedgwood's system, we must consider speech, as
+the theologians of the Middle Ages assumed of matter, to be only
+_potentiated_ with life and soul, and shall find the phenomenon of
+poetry as wonderful, if less mysterious, when we regard the fineness of
+organization requisite to a perception of the remote analogies of sense
+and thought, and the power, as of Solomon's seal, which can compel the
+unwilling genius back into the leaden void which language becomes when
+used as most men use it.
+
+There is a large class of words which every body admits to be imitative
+of sounds,--such, for example, as _bang, splash, crack_,--and Mr.
+Wedgwood undertakes to show that their number and that of their
+derivative applications is much larger than is ordinarily supposed. He
+confines himself almost wholly to European languages, but not always to
+the particular class of etymologies which it is his main object to trace
+out. Some of his explanations of words, not based upon any real or
+assumed radical, but showing their gradual passage toward their present
+forms and meanings, are among the most valuable parts of the book.
+As striking proofs of this, we refer our readers to Mr. Wedgwood's
+treatment of the words _abide, abie, allow, danger, and denizen_. When
+he differs from other authorities, it is never inconsiderately or
+without examination. Now and then we think his derivations are
+far-fetched, when simpler ones were lying near his hand. He makes the
+Italian _balcone_ come from the Persian _båia khaneh_, an upper chamber.
+An upper chamber over a gate in the Persian caravanserais is still
+called by that name, according to Rich. (p. 97.) Yet under the
+word _balk_ we find, "A hayloft is provincially termed the _balks_,
+(Halliwell,) because situated among the rafters. Hence also, probably,
+the Ital. _balco_, or _pulcoy_ a scaffold; a loftlike erection supported
+upon beams." As a _balcone_ is not an upper chamber, nor a chamber over
+a gate, but is precisely "a loftlike erection supported upon beams," it
+seems more reasonable to suppose it an augmentative formed in the usual
+way from _balco_. Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of barbican from _bala
+khaneh_ seems to us more happy. (Ducange refers the word to an Eastern
+source.) He would also derive the Fr. _ébaucher_ from _balk_, though we
+have a correlative form, _sbozzare_, in Italian, (old Sp. _esbozar_,
+Port, _esboyar_, Diez,) with precisely the same meaning, and from a
+root _bozzo_, which is related to a very different class of words from
+_balk_. So bewitched is Mr. Wedgwood with this word _balk_, that he
+prefers to derive the Ital. _valicam, varcare_, from it rather than from
+the Latin _varicare_. We should think a deduction from the latter to the
+English _walk_ altogether as probable. Mr. Wedgwood also inclines to
+seek the origin of _acquaint_ in the Germ, _kund_, though we have all
+the intermediate steps between it and the Mid. Lat. _adcognitare_.
+Again, under _daunt_ he says, "Probably not directly from Lat. _domare_,
+but from the Teutonic form _damp_, which is essentially the same word."
+It may be plain that the Fr. _dompter_ (whence _daunt_) is not directly
+from _domare_, but not so plain, as it seems to us, that it is not
+directly from the frequentative form domitare.--"_Decoy_. Properly
+_duck-coy_, as pronounced by those who are familiar with the thing
+itself. '_Decoys_, vulgarly _duck-coys_.'--Sketch of the Fens, in
+Gardener's Chron. 1849. Du. _koye_, cavea, septum, locus in quo
+greges stabulantur.--Kil. _Kooi, konw, kevi_, a cage; _vogel-kooi_, a
+bird-cage, decoy, apparatus for entrapping waterfowl. Prov. E. _Coy_,
+a decoy for ducks, a coop for lobsters.--Forby. The name was probably
+imported with the thing itself from Holland to the fens." (p. 447.)
+_Duck-coy_, we cannot help thinking, is an instance of a corruption like
+_bag o' nails_ from _bacchanals_, for the sake of giving meaning to a
+word not understood. Decoys were and are used for other birds as well as
+ducks, and _vogel-kooi_ in Dutch applies to all birds, (answering to our
+trap-cage,) the special apparatus for ducks being an _eende-kooi_. The
+French _coi_ adverbialized by the prefix _de_, and meaning quietly,
+slyly, as a hunter who uses decoys must demean himself, would seem
+a more likely original.--_Andiron_ Mr. Wedgwood derives from Flem.
+_wend-ijser_, turn-irons, because the spit rested upon them. But the
+original meaning seems to have no reference to the spit. The French
+_landier_ is plainly a corruption of the Mid. Lat. _anderia_, by the
+absorption of the article (_l'andier_). This gives us an earlier form
+_andier_, and the augmentative _andieron_ would be our word.--_Baggage_.
+We cannot think Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of this word from _bague_ an
+improvement on that of Ducange from _baga_, area.--_Coarse_ Mr. Wedgwood
+considers identical with _course_,--that is, of course, ordinary. He
+finds a confirmation of this in the old spelling. Old spelling is seldom
+a safe guide, though we wonder that the archaic form _boorly_ did not
+seem to him a sufficient authority for the common derivation of _burly_.
+If _coarse_ be not another form of _gross_, (Fr. _gros_, _grosse_,)
+then there is no connection between _corn_ and _granum_, or _horse_ and
+_ross_.--"_Cullion_. It. _Coglione_, a cullion, a fool, a scoundrel,
+properly a dupe. See Cully. It. _cogionare_, to deceive, to make a dupe
+of.... In the Venet. _coglionare_ becomes _cogionare_, as _vogia_ for
+_voglia_.... Hence E. to _cozen_, as It. _fregio_, frieze; _cugino_,
+cousin; _prigione_, prison." (p. 387.) Under _cully_, to which Mr.
+Wedgwood refers, he gives another etymology of _coglione_, and, we
+think, a wrong one. _Coglionare_ is itself a derivative form from
+_coglione_, and the radical meaning is to be sought in _cogliere_, to
+gather, to take in, to pluck. Hence a _coglione_ is a sharper, one who
+takes in, plucks. _Cully_ and _gull_ (one who is taken in) must be
+referred to the same source. Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of _cozen_ is
+ingenious, and perhaps accounts for the doubtful Germ, _kosen_, unless
+that word itself be the original.--"_To chaff_, in vulgar language to
+rally one, to chatter or talk lightly. From a representation of the
+inarticulate sounds made by different kinds of animals uttering rapidly
+repeated cries. Du. _keffen_, to yap, to bark, also to prattle, chatter,
+tattle. Halma," etc. We think it demonstrable that _chaff_ is only a
+variety of _chafe_, from Fr. _écauffer_, retaining the broader sound of
+the _a_ from the older form _chaufe_. So _gaby_, which Mr. Wedgwood (p.
+84) would connect with _gäwisch_, (Fr. _gauche_,) is derived immediately
+from O. Fr. _gabé_, (a laughing-stock, a butt,) the participial form of
+_gaber_, to make fun of, which would lead us to a very different root.
+(See the _Fabliaux, passim_.)--_Cress_. "Perhaps," says Mr. Wedgwood,
+(p. 398,) "from the crunching sound of eating the crisp, green herb."
+This is one of the instances in which he is lured from the plain path by
+the Nixy _Onomatopoeia_. The analogy between _cress_ and _grass_ flies
+in one's eyes; and, perhaps, the more probable derivation of the latter
+is from the root meaning to grow, rather than from that meaning to eat,
+unless, indeed, the two be originally identical. The A. S. forms
+_coers_ and _goers_ are almost identical. The Fr. _cresson_, from It.
+_crescione_, which Mr. Wedgwood cites, points in the direction of
+_crescere_; and the O. Fr. _cressonage_, implying a verb _cressoner_,
+means the right of _grazing_.--Under _dock_ Mr. Wedgwood would seem
+(he does not make himself quite clear) to refer It. _doccia_ to a root
+analogous with _dyke_ and _ditch_. He cites Prov. _doga_, which he
+translates by _bank_. Raynouard has only "_dogua_, douve, creux,
+cavité," and refers to It. _doga_. The primary meaning seems rather
+the hollow than the bank, though this would matter little, as the same
+transference of meaning may have taken place as in _dyke_ and _ditch_,
+But when Mr. Wedgwood gives mill-_dam_ as the first meaning of the word
+_doccia_, his wish seems to have stood godfather. Diez establishes the
+derivation of _doccia_ from _ductus_; and certainly the sense of
+a channel to lead (_ducere_) water in any desired direction is
+satisfactory. The derivative signification of _doccia_ (a gouge, a tool
+to make channels with) coincides. Moreover, we have the masculine form
+_doccio_, answering exactly to the Sp. _ducho_ in _aguaducho_, the _o_
+for _u_, as in _doge_ for _duce_, from the same root _ducere_. Another
+instance of Mr. Wedgwood's preferring the bird in the bush is to be
+found in his refusing to consider _dout_, to extinguish, (_do out_,) as
+analogous to _don, _doff_, and _dup_. He would rather connect it with
+_tödten, tuer_. He cites as allied words Bohemian _dusyti_, to choke, to
+extinguish; Polish _dusic_, to choke, stifle, quell; and so arrives at
+the English slang phrase, "_dowse_ the glim." As we find several other
+German words in thieves' English, we have little doubt that _dowse_ is
+nothing more than _thu' aus_, do (thou) out, which would bring us back
+to our starting-point.
+
+We have picked out a few instances in which we think Mr. Wedgwood
+demonstrably mistaken, because they show the temptation which is ever
+lying in wait to lead the theoretical etymologist astray. Mr. Wedgwood
+sometimes seems to reverse the natural order of things, and to reason
+backward from the simple to the more complex. He does not always respect
+the boundaries of legitimate deduction. On the other hand, his case
+becomes very strong where he finds relations of thought as well as of
+sound between whole classes of words in different languages. But it is
+very difficult to say how long ago instinctive imitation ceased and
+other elements are to be admitted as operative. We see words continually
+coming into vogue whose apparent etymologies, if all historical data of
+their origin were lost, would inevitably mislead. If we did not know,
+for example, the occasion which added the word _chouse_ to the English
+language, we have little doubt that the twofold analogy of form and
+meaning would have led etymologists to the German _kosen_, (with the
+very common softening of the _k_ to _ch_,) and that the derivation would
+have been perfectly satisfactory to most minds.--_Tantrums_ would look
+like a word of popular coinage, and yet we find a respectable Old High
+German verb _tantarôn_, delirare, (Graff, V. 437,) which may perhaps
+help us to make out the etymology of _dander_, in our vulgar expression
+of "getting one's dander up," which is equivalent to flying into a
+passion.--_Jog_, in the sense of _going_, (to _jog_ along,) has a vulgar
+look. Richardson derives it from the same root with the other _jog_,
+which means to shake, ("A. S. _sceac-an_, to _shake_, or _shock_, or
+_shog_.") _Shog_ has nothing whatever to do with shaking, unless when
+Nym says to Pistol, "Will you _shog_ off?" he may be said to have shaken
+him off. When the Tinker in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Coxcomb" says,
+"Come, prithee, let's _shog_ off," what possible allusion to shaking is
+there, except, perhaps, to "shaking stumps"? The first _jog_ and _shog_
+are identical in meaning and derivation, and may be traced, by whosoever
+chooses, to the Gothic _tiuhan_, (Germ, _ziehen_,) and are therefore
+near of kin to our _tug_. _Togs_ and _toggery_ belong here also. (The
+connecting link may be seen in the preterite form _zog_.) The other
+_jog_ probably comes to us immediately from the French _choquer_; and
+its frequentative _joggle_ answers to the German _schutkeln_, It.
+_cioccolare_. Whether they are all remotely from the same radical is
+another question. We only cited it as a monosyllabic word, having
+the air of being formed by the imitative process, while its original
+_tiuhan_ makes quite another impression.--Had the word _ramose_ been a
+word of English slang-origin, (and it might easily have been imported,
+like so many more foreign phrases, by sailors,) we have as little doubt
+that a derivation of it from the Spanish _vamos_ would have failed to
+convince the majority of etymologists. This word is a good example of
+the way in which the people (and it is always the people, never the
+scholars, who succeed in adding to the spoken language) proceed in
+naturalizing a foreign term. The accent has gone over to the last
+syllable, in accordance with English usage in verbs of two syllables;
+and though the sharp sound of the _s_ has been thus far retained, it is
+doubtful how long it will maintain itself against a fancied analogy
+with the grave sound of the same letter in such words as _inclose_ and
+_suppose_.--We should incline to think the slang verb _to mosey_ a mere
+variety of form, and that its derivation from a certain absconding
+Mr. Moses (who broke the law of his great namesake through a blind
+admiration of his example in spoiling the Egyptians) was only a new
+instance of that tendency to mythologize which is as strong as ever
+among the uneducated. _Post, ergo propter_, is good people's-logic; and
+if an antecedent be wanting, it will not be long before one is invented.
+
+If we once admit the principle of _onomatopoeia_, the difficulty remains
+of drawing the line which shall define the territory within which those
+capable of judging would limit its operation. Its boundary would be
+a movable one, like that of our own Confederacy. Some students, from
+natural fineness of ear, would be quicker to recognize resemblances of
+sound; others would trace family likeness in spite of every disguise;
+others, whose exquisiteness of perception was mental, would find the
+scent in faint analogies of meaning, where the ordinary brain would be
+wholly at fault. In the original genesis of language, also, we should
+infer the influence of the same idiosyncrasies. We were struck with this
+the other day in a story we heard of a little boy, who, during a violent
+thunder-storm, asked his father what that was out there,--all the while
+winking rapidly to explain his meaning. Had his vocabulary been more
+complete, he would have asked what that _winking_ out there was. The
+impression made upon him by the lightning was not the ordinary one of
+brightness, (as in _blitz_, (?) _éclair_, _fulmen_, _flash_,) but of
+the rapid alternations of light and dark. Had he been obliged to make
+a language for himself, like the two unfortunate children on whom King
+Psarnmetichus made his linguistic experiment, he would have christened
+the phenomenon accordingly.
+
+Mr. Wedgwood has by no means carried out his theory fully even in
+reference to the words contained in his first volume, nor does the
+volume itself nearly exhaust the vocabulary of the letters it includes
+(A to D). Sometimes, where we should have expected him to apply his
+system, he refrains, whether from caution or oversight it is not easy
+to discover. The word _cow_, which is commonly referred to an imitative
+radical, he is provokingly reserved about; and under _chew_ he hints
+at no relation between the name of the action and that of the capital
+ruminant animal.[a] Even where he has derived a word from an imitative
+radical, he sometimes fails to carry the process on to some other where
+it would seem equally applicable, sometimes pushes it too far. For
+instance, "_Crag_. 1. The neck, the throat.--Jam. Du. _kraeghe_, the
+throat; Pol. _kark_, the nape, crag, neck; Bohem. _krk_, the neck; Icel.
+_krage_, Dan. _krave_, the collar of a coat. The origin is an imitation
+of the noise made by clearing the throat. Bohem. _krkati_, to belch,
+_krcati_, to vomit; Pol. _krzakaé_, to hem, to hawk. The same root gives
+rise to the Fr. _cracher_, to spit, and It. _recere_, to vomit; E.
+_reach_, to strain in vomiting; Icel. _hraki_, spittle; A. S. _hrara_,
+cough, phlegm, the throat, jaws; G. _rachen_, the jaws." (As _crag_
+is not an English word, all this should have come under the head of
+_craw_.) "_Crag_. 2. A rock. Gael. _creag_, a rock; W. _careg_, a stone;
+_caregos_, pebbles." We do not see why the rattling sound of stones
+should not give them a claim to the same pedigree,--the name being
+afterwards transferred to the larger mass, the reverse of which we see
+in the popular _rock_ for _stone_. Nay, as Mr. Wedgwood (_sub voce
+draff_, p. 482) assumes _rac_ (more properly _rk_) as the root, it would
+answer equally well for _rock_ also. Indeed, as the chief occupation
+of crags, and their only amusement, in mountainous regions, is to pelt
+unwary passengers and hunters of scenery with their _débris_, we might
+have _creag, quasi caregos faciens sive dejiciens, sicut rupes a
+rumpere_. Indeed, there is an analogous Sanscrit root, meaning _break,
+crack_. But though Mr. Wedgwood lets off this coughing, hawking,
+spitting, and otherwise unpleasant old patriarch _Rac_ so easily in
+the case of the foundling _Crag_, he has by no means done with him.
+Stretched on the unfilial instrument of torture that bears his name, he
+is made to confess the paternity of _draff_, and _dregs_, and _dross_,
+and so many other uncleanly brats, that we feel as if he ought to be
+nailed by the ear to the other side of the same post on which Mr.
+Carlyle has pilloried August _der starke_ forever. But we honestly
+believe the old fellow to be belied, and that he is as guiltless of them
+as of that weak-witted Hebrew _Raca_ who looks so much like him in the
+face.
+
+[Footnote a: An etymology of this kind would have been particularly
+interesting in the hands of so learned and acute a man as Mr. Wedgwood.
+It would have afforded him a capital example of the fact that
+considerable differences in the form and sound of words meaning the same
+thing prove nothing against the onomatopoeic theory, but merely that the
+same sound represents a different thing to different ears. L. _Boare,
+mugire_, E. _moo_; F. _beugler_, E. _bellow_; G. _leuen_, L. _lugere_,
+E. _low_, are all attempts at the same sound, or, which would not affect
+the question, variations of an original radical _gô_ or _gu_. For a
+full discussion of the matter, admirable for its thorough learning, see
+Pictet, _Les Origines Indo-Européennes_, Vol. I. Section 86.]
+
+In the case of _crag_, Mr. Wedgwood argues from a sound whose frequency
+and marked character (and colds must have been frequent when the
+fig-tree was the only draper) gave a name to the organ producing it.
+We can easily imagine it. One of these early pagans comes home of an
+evening, heated from the chase, and squats himself on the damp clay
+floor of a country-seat imperfectly guarded against draughts. The next
+morning he says to his helpmeet, "Mrs. Barbar, I have a dreadful cold
+in my--_hrac_! _hrac_!" Here he is interrupted by a violent fit of
+coughing, and resorts to semeiology by pointing to his throat. Similar
+incidents carrying apprehension (as Lord Macaulay would say) to the
+breezy interiors of a thousand shanties on the same fatal morning, the
+domestic circle would know no name so expressive as _hrac_ for that
+fatal tube through which man, ingenious in illegitimate perversion,
+daily compels the innocent breath to discharge a plumbeous hail of
+rhetoric.
+
+But seriously, we think Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of _crag_ (or rather,
+that which he adopts, for it has had other advocates) a very probable
+one, at least for more northern tribes. There is no reason why men
+should have escaped the same law of nomenclature which gave names to the
+_cuckoo_ and the _pavo_.[a] But when he approaches _draff_, he gets upon
+thinner ice. Where a metaphorical appropriateness is plainly wanting to
+one etymology and another as plainly supplies it, other considerations
+being equal, probability may fairly turn the scale in favor of the
+latter. Mr. Wedgwood is here dealing with a sound translated to another
+meaning by an intellectual process of analogy; and no one knows better
+than he--for his book shows everywhere the fair-mindedness of a thorough
+scholar--the extreme difficulty of convincing other minds in such
+matters. He seems to have been unconsciously influenced in this case by
+a desire to give more support to a very ingenious etymology of the word
+_dream_. His process of reasoning may be briefly stated thus: _draff_
+and _dregs_ are refuse, they are things thrown away, sometimes (as in
+German _dreck_, sordes) they are even disgustful; and as there is no
+expression of contempt and disgust so strong as spitting, the sound
+_rac_ transferred itself by a natural association of ideas from the act
+to the object of it. He cites Du. _drabbe_, Dan. _drav_, Ger. _träbern_,
+Icel. _dregg_, Prov. _draco_, Ger., Du. _dreck_, O. F. _drache,
+drêche_, (and he might have added E. _trash_,) E. _dross_, all with
+nearly the same meaning. We have selected such as would show the
+different forms of the word. To the same radical Mr. Wedgwood refers G.
+_trüjen_, _betrügen_, and this would carry with it our English _trick_
+(Prov. _tric_, in Diez, Fr. _triche_). In our opinion he is wrong,
+doubly wrong, inasmuch as we think he has confounded two widely
+different roots. He has taken his O. Fr. forms from Roquefort (Gloss.
+Rom. I. 411,) but has omitted one of his definitions, _coque qui
+enveloope le grain_, that is, the husk, or hull. Mr. Wedgwood might
+perhaps found an argument on this in support of our old friend _Rac_ and
+his relation to huskiness; but it seems to us one of those trifles, the
+turned leaf, or broken twig, that put one on the right trail. We
+accept Mr. Wedgwood's derivative signification of _refuse, worthless,
+contemptible_, and ask if all these terms do not apply equally well to
+the chaff of the threshing-floor? It is more satisfactory to us, then,
+to attribute a part of the words given above to the Gothic _dragan_,
+(L. _trahere_, G. _tragen_,) to drag, to draw, and a part to Goth.
+_thriskan_, to thresh. The conjecture of Diez, (cited by Diefenbach,)
+that the Italian _trescare_ (to stamp with the feet, to dance) should
+be referred to the same root, is confirmed by the ancient practice of
+threshing grain by treading it out with cattle. We might, indeed, refer
+all to one root, by deriving _dross_ (a provincial form of which is
+_drass_) through the O. Fr. _drache_, (as in O. Fr. _treche_, Fr.
+_tresse_, E. _tress_,) but we have A. S. _dresten_, which is better
+accounted for by _therscan_. The other forms, such as _drabbe_, _dregg_,
+and _dragan_, the _b_ and _v_ being analogous to E. _draggle, drabble,
+draught, draft_, all equally from _dragan_. We have a suspicion that
+_dragon_ is to be referred to the same root. Mr. Wedgwood follows
+Richardson, who follows Vossius in a fanciful etymology from the Greek
+[Greek: derkomai = blepein] to see. Sharpness of sight, it is true, was
+attributed to the mythologized reptile, but the primitive _draco_ was
+nothing but a large serpent, supposed to be the boa. This sense must
+accordingly be comparatively modern. The eagle is the universal type of
+keenness of vision. The reptile's way of moving himself without legs is
+his most striking peculiarity; and if we derive _dragon_ from the root
+meaning to drag, to draw, (because he draws himself along,) we find it
+analogous to _serpent_, _reptile_, _snake_.[b] The relation between
+[Greek: trechein] and _dragan_ may be seen in G. _ziehen_, meaning both
+to draw and to go. Mr. Wedgwood says that he finds it hard to conceive
+any relation between the notion of _treachery_, _betrayal_, (_trügen_,
+_betrügen_,) and that of drawing. It would seem that to _draw_ into
+an ambush, the _drawing_ of a fowler's net, and the more sublimated
+_drawing_ a man on to his destruction, supplied analogies enough. The
+contempt we feel for treachery (for it is only in this metaphysical way
+that Mr. Wedgwood can connect the word with his radical _rac_[c]) is a
+purely subsidiary, derivative, and comparatively modern notion. Many,
+perhaps most, kinds of treachery were looked upon as praiseworthy in
+early times, and are still so regarded among savages. Does Mr. Wedgwood
+believe that Romulus lost caste by the way in which he made so many
+respectable Sabines fathers-in-law against their will, or that the wise
+Odysseus was a perfectly admirable gentleman in our sense of the word?
+Even in the sixteenth century, in the then most civilized country of the
+world, the grave irony with which Macchiavelli commends the frightful
+treacheries of Cæsar Borgia would have had no point, if he had not taken
+it for granted that almost all who read his treatise would suppose him
+to be in earnest. In the same way _dregs_ is explained simply as the
+sediment left after _drawing off_ liquids. _Dredge_ also is certainly,
+in one of its meanings, a derivative of _dragan_; so, too, _trick_ in
+whist, and perhaps _trudge_. Indeed, all the words above-cited are more
+like each other than Fr. _toit_ and E. _deck_, both from one root, or
+the Neapol. _sciù_ and the Lat. _flos_, from which it is corrupted.
+
+[Footnote a: The German _pfau_ retains the imitative sound which the
+English _pea_-cock has lost, and of which our system of pronunciation
+robs the Latin.]
+
+[Footnote b: And to _worm_, (another word for _dragon_,) if, as has been
+conjectured, there be any radical affinity between that and _schwärmen_,
+whose primitive sense of crawl or creep is seen in the _swarming_ of
+bees, and _swarming_ up a tree.]
+
+[Footnote c: That is, unless he takes the _rag_ in _dragan_ to be the
+same thing, which he might support with several plausible analogies,
+such as E. _rake_, It. _recare_, etc.]
+
+But the same subtilty of mind, which sometimes seduces Mr. Wedgwood into
+making distinctions without a difference and preferring an impalpable
+relation of idea to a plain derivative affinity, is of great advantage
+to him when the problem is to construct an etymology by following the
+gossamer clews that lead from sensual images to the metaphorical and
+tropical adaptations of them to the demands of fancy and thought. The
+nice optics that see what is not to be seen have passed into a sarcastic
+proverb; yet those are precisely the eyes that are in the heads and
+brains of all who accomplish much, whether in science, poetry, or
+philosophy. With the kind of etymologies we are speaking of, it is
+practically useful to have the German gift of summoning a thing up from
+the depths of one's inward consciousness. It is when Mr. Wedgwood would
+reverse the order of Nature, and proceed from the tropical to the direct
+and simple, that we are at issue with him. For it is not philosophers
+who make language, though they often unmake it.
+
+Mr. Wedgwood's most successful application of his system may be found,
+as we think, under the words, _dim_, _dumb_, _deaf_, and _death_. He
+might have confirmed the relation between dumbness and darkness from the
+acutest metaphysician among poets, in Dante's _ove il sol tace_. We have
+not left ourselves room enough to illustrate Mr. Wedgwood's handling of
+these etymologies by extracts; we must refer our readers to the book
+itself. Apart from its value as suggesting thought, or quickening our
+perception of shades of meaning, and so freshening our feeling of the
+intimate harmony of sense and spirit in language, and of the thousand
+ways in which the soul assumes the material world into her own heaven
+and transfigures it there, the volume will be found practically the most
+thorough contribution yet made to English etymology. We are glad to hear
+that we are to have an American edition of it under the able supervision
+of Mr. Marsh. Etymology becomes of practical importance, when, as the
+newspapers inform us, two members of a New York club have been fighting
+a duel because one of them doubted whether Garry Baldy were of Irish
+descent. Any student of language could have told them that Garibaldi is
+only the plural form (common in Italian family names) of Garibaldo, the
+Teutonic Heribald, whose meaning, appropriate enough in this case, would
+be nearly equivalent to Bold Leader.
+
+
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+Travels, Researches, and Missionary Labors, during an Eighteen Years'
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+Mombaz to Cape Delgado. By the Rev. Dr. J. Lewis Krapf, Secretary of the
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+Livingstone, in September last. By E.J. Ravenstein, F.R.G.S. Boston.
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+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11061 ***
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #11061 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11061)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Atlantic Monthly Volume 6, No. 34, August,
+1860, 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 Volume 6, No. 34, August, 1860
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 12, 2004 [eBook #11061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY VOLUME 6, NO. 34,
+AUGUST, 1860***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen, and Project Gutenberg
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
+
+A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
+
+VOL. VI.--AUGUST, 1860.--NO. XXXIV.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CARNIVAL OF THE ROMANTIC.
+
+
+Whither went the nine old Muses, daughters of Jupiter and the Goddess
+of Memory, after their seats on Helicon, Parnassus, and Olympus were
+barbarized? Not far away. They hovered like witches around the seething
+caldron of early Christian Europe, in which, "with bubble, bubble, toil
+and trouble," a new civilization was forming, mindful of the brilliant
+lineage of their worshippers, from Homer to Boethius, looking upon the
+vexed and beclouded Nature, and expecting the time when Humanity should
+gird itself anew with the beauty of ideas and institutions. They were
+sorrowful, but not in despair; for they knew that the children of men
+were strong with recuperative power.
+
+The ear of Fancy, not long since, heard the hoofs of winged Pegasus
+striking the clouds. The long-idle Muses, it seemed, had become again
+interested in human efforts, and were paying a flying visit to the
+haunts of modern genius from the Hellespont to the Mississippi.
+They lingered in sunny Provence, and in the dark forest-land of the
+Minnesingers. In the great capitals, as Rome, Berlin, Paris, London,--in
+smaller capitals, as Florence, Weimar, and Boston,--in many a village
+which had a charm for them, as Stratford-on-Avon, Ferney, and Concord
+in Massachusetts,--in the homes of wonderful suffering, as Ferrara and
+Haworth.--on many enchanted waters, as the Guadalquivir, the Rhine,
+the Tweed, the Hudson, Windermere, and Leman,--in many a monastic nook
+whence had issued a chronicle or history, in many a wild birthplace of a
+poem or romance, around many an old castle and stately ruin, in many a
+decayed seat of revelry and joyous repartee,--through the long list
+of the nurseries of genius and the laboratories of art, they wandered
+pensive and strangely affected. At length they rested from their journey
+to hold a council on modern literature. The long results of Christian
+time were unrolled before them as in a chart. They beheld the dawn of a
+new historic day, marked by songs of fantastic tenderness, and unwieldy,
+long, and jointless romances and poems, like the monsters which played
+in the unfinished universe before the creation of man. The Muses smiled
+with a look more of complaisance than approval, as they reviewed the
+army of Troubadours and Minnesingers and the crowd of romancers who
+followed in their train. They decided that the joyous array of early
+mediæval literature was full of promise, though something of its tone
+and temper was past the comprehension of pagan goddesses. The legends of
+saints and pictures of martyrdoms were especially mysterious to them,
+and they regarded them raptly, not smilingly, and bowed their heads.
+Anon their eyes rested on an Italian city, where uprose, as if in
+interstellar space, an erect figure, with a piercing eye, pleasant as
+Plato's voice. His countenance was fixed upon the empyrean, and a more
+than Minerva-like form hovered above him, interpreting the Christian
+universe; and as he wrote what she dictated, the verses of his poem were
+musical even to the Muses. Dante, Beatrice, and the "Divine Comedy,"
+with a Gothic church as a make-weight, were balanced in Muses' minds in
+comparison with the "Iliad" and the age of Pericles; and again they put
+on the rapt look of mystery, but a smile also, and their admiration
+and applause were more and more. To England they soon turned, and
+contemplated the round, many-colored globe of Shakspeare's works. As
+playful swallows sometimes dart round and round a lithe and wondering
+wingless animal, so they, admiringly and timidly, attracted, yet
+hesitating, delighting in his alertness, but not quite understanding it,
+flitted like a troubled and beautiful flock around the great magician of
+modern civilization. Their glance became lighter and less intent, as if
+they were nearer to knowledge, the pain of perplexity disappeared like a
+shadow from their countenances, their plaudits were more unreserved, and
+it seemed likely that the high desert of Shakspeare would win for our
+new literature a favorable recognition from the aristocratic goddesses
+of antiquity. Knowing that Jove had made perfection unattainable by
+mortals, they yet found in the chart before them epics, dramas, lyrics,
+histories, and philosophies that were no unworthy companions to the
+creations of classical genius, and they were jubilant in the triumphs
+of a period in which they had been rather ignorantly and ironically
+worshipped. Their sitting was long, and their review thorough, yet they
+found but one department of modern literature which was regarded with a
+distrust that grew to an aversion. The romances, the tales, the stories,
+the novels were contemned more and more, from the first of them to the
+last. Nothing like them had been known among the glories of Hellenic
+literary art, and no Muse now stood forth to be their defender and
+patron. Calliope declared that they were not epical, Euterpe and Erato
+that they were not lyrical, Melpomene and Thalia that they were neither
+tragical nor comical, Clio that they were not historical, Urania that
+they were not sublime in conception, Polymnia that they had no stately
+or simple charm in execution, and Terpsichore, who had joined with
+Melpomene in admiring the opera, found nothing in the novel which she
+could own and bless. Fleeting passages, remote and slight fragments,
+were pleasing to them all, like the oases of a Sahara, or the sites of
+high civilization on the earth; but the whole world of novels seemed to
+them a chaos undisciplined by art and unformed to beauty. The gates of
+the halls where the classics live in immortal youth were beginning to
+close against the voluminous prose romances that have sprung from modern
+thought, when the deliberations of the Muses were suddenly interrupted.
+They had disturbed the divine elements of modern society. Forth from all
+the recesses of the air came troops of Gothic elves, trolls, fairies,
+sprites, and all the other romantic beings which had inspired the modern
+mind to novel-writing,--marching or gambolling, pride in their port,
+defiance in their eye, mischief in their purpose,--and began so vigorous
+an attack upon their classic visitors and critics, that the latter were
+glad to betake themselves to the mighty-winged Pegasus, who rapidly bore
+them in retreat to the present home of the _Dii Majores_, that point of
+the empyrean directly above Olympus.
+
+And well, indeed, might the Muses wonder at the rise of the novel and
+its vast developments, for the classic literature presents no similar
+works. One of Plato's dialogues or Aesop's fables is as near an approach
+to a prose romance as antiquity in its golden eras can offer. The few
+productions of the kind which appeared during the decline of literature
+in the early Christian centuries, as the "Golden Ass" of Apuleius and
+the "Æthiopica" of Heliodorus, were freaks of Nature, an odd growth
+rather than a distinct species, and are also to be contrasted rather
+than compared with the later novel. Such as they are, moreover, they
+were produced under Christian as much as classic influences. The
+æsthetic Hellenes admitted into their literature nothing so composite,
+so likely to be crude, as the romance. Their styles of art were all
+pure, their taste delighted in simplicity and unity, and they strictly
+forbade a medley, alike in architecture, sculpture, and letters. The
+history of their development opens with an epic yet unsurpassed, and
+their literary creations have been adopted to be the humanities of
+Christian universities. A writer has recently proposed to account for
+their success in the arts from the circumstance that the features of
+Nature around them were small,--that their hornet-shaped peninsula was
+cut by mountains and inlets of the sea into minute portions, which the
+mind could easily compass, the foot measure, and the hand improve,--that
+therefore every hillock and fountain, every forest and by-way was
+peopled with mythological characters and made significant with
+traditions, and the cities were adorned with architectural and
+sculptured masterpieces. Greece thus, like England in our own time,
+presented the character of a highly wrought piece of ground,--England
+being the more completely developed for material uses, and Greece being
+the more heavily freighted with legends of ideal meaning. Small-featured
+and large-minded Greece is thus set in contrast with Asia, where the
+mind and body were equally palsied in the effort to overcome immense
+plains and interminable mountain-chains. But whatever the reason,
+whether geographical or ethnological, it is certain that the people of
+Greece were endowed with a transcendent genius for art, which embraced
+all departments of life as by an instinct. Every divinity was made a
+plain figure to the mind, every mystery was symbolized in some positive
+beautiful myth, and every conception of whatever object became
+statuesque and clear. This artistic character was possible to them from
+the comparatively limited range of pagan imagination; their thought
+rarely dwelt in those regions where reason loves to ask the aid
+of mysticism, and all remote ideas, like all remote nations, were
+indiscriminately regarded by them as barbarous. But guarded by the
+bounds of their civilization, as by the circumfluent ocean-stream of
+their olden tradition, they were prompted in all their movements by the
+spirit of beauty, and philosophers have accounted them the very people
+whose ideas were adequately and harmoniously represented in sensible
+forms,--unlike the nations of the Orient, where mind is overawed by
+preponderating matter, and unlike the nations of Christendom, where the
+current spiritual meanings reach far into the shadowy realm of mystery
+and transcend the power of material expression.
+
+Thus art was the main category of the Greeks, the absolute form which
+embraced all their finite forms. It moulded their literature, as it did
+their sculpture, architecture, and the action of their gymnasts and
+orators. They therefore delighted only in the highest orders and purest
+specimens of literature, refused to retain in remembrance any of the
+unsuccessful attempts at poetry which may be supposed to have preceded
+Homer, and gave their homage only to masterpieces in the dignified
+styles of the epic, the drama, the lyric, the history, or the
+philosophical discussion. Equal to the highest creations, they refused
+to tolerate anything lower; and they knew not the novel, because their
+poetical notions were never left in a nebulous, prosaic state, but were
+always developed into poetry.
+
+Another reason, doubtless, was the wonderful activity of the Greek mind,
+finding its amusement and relaxation in the forum, theatre, gymnasium,
+or even the barber's shop, in constant mutual contact, in learning
+wisdom and news by word of mouth. The long stories which they may
+have told to each other, as an outlet for their natural vitality, as
+extemporaneous exercises of curiosity and wit and fancy, did not creep
+into their literature, which included only more mature and elaborate
+attempts.
+
+The modern novel was born of Christianity and feudalism. It is the child
+of contemplation,--of that sort of luxurious intellectual mood which has
+always distinguished the Oriental character, and was first Europeanized
+in the twilight of the mediæval period. The fallen Roman Empire was
+broken into countless fragments, which became feudal baronies. The heads
+of the newly organized society were lordly occupants of castles, who in
+time of peace had little to do. They were isolated from their neighbors
+by acres, forests, and a stately etiquette, if not actual hostility.
+There was no open-air theatre in the vicinity, no forum alive with
+gossip and harangues, no public games, not even a loquacious barber's
+shop. During the intervals between public or private wars,--when the
+Turks were unmolested, the crescent and the dragon left in harmless
+composure, and no Christians were in mortal turmoil with each other,--it
+is little wonder that restless knights went forth from their loneliness
+errant in quest of adventures. What was there to occupy life in those
+barricaded stone-towers?
+
+It was then that the domestic passion, love, rose into dignity. Homage
+to woman assumed the potency of an idea, chivalry arose, and its truth,
+honor, and obeisance were the first social responses from mankind to
+Christianity. The castle was the emblem and central figure of the time:
+it was the seat of power, the arena of manners, the nursery of love, and
+the goal of gallantry; and around it hovered the shadows of religion,
+loyalty, heroism. Domestic events, the private castellar life, were thus
+exalted; but they could hardly suffice to engross and satisfy the spirit
+of a warrior and crusader. A new diversion and excitement were demanded,
+and soon, in response to the call, minstrels began to roam from castle
+to castle, from court to court, telling long stories of heroism and
+singing light songs of love. A spark from the Saracenic schools and
+poets of Spain may have flitted into Provence to kindle the elements
+of modern literature into its first development, the songs of the
+Troubadours. Almost contemporary were the lays of the Minnesingers in
+Germany and the romances of the Trouvères in Northern France. Beneath
+the brooding spirit of a new civilization signs of life had at length
+appeared, and Europe became vocal in every part with fantastic poems,
+lyrical in the South, epical in the North. They were wildly exuberant
+products, because severe art was unknown, but simple, _naïve_, and gay,
+and suited to the taste of a time when the classics were regarded as
+superstitiously as the heavens. Love and heroism, which somehow are the
+leading themes of literature in all ages, now assumed the chivalric type
+in the light hands of the earliest modern poets.
+
+Yet these songs and metrical romances were most inadequate
+representatives of the undeveloped principles which lay at the root of
+Christian civilization. Even Hellenic genius might here have been at
+fault, for it was a far harder task to give harmonious and complete
+expression to the tendencies of a new religion and the germs of new
+systems, than to frame into beauty the pagan clear-cut conceptions. The
+Christian mind awoke under a fascination, and, for a time, could
+only ejaculate its meanings in fragments, or hint them in vast
+disproportions, could only sing snatches of new tunes. Its first signs
+were gasps, rather than clear-toned notes, after the long perturbations
+and preparations of history. The North and the South, the East and the
+West had been mingled together; the heated and heaving mass had been
+tempered by the leaven of Christianity:--and had all this been done
+only to produce an octo-syllabic metre in praise of fantastic and semi-
+barbaric sentiments and exploits? Had there been such commotions of the
+universe only for a song? Surely these first creations of art, these
+first attempts at literature, these first carvings of a rude spiritual
+intensity, were only such as the Greeks may have forgotten any quantity
+of before Homer came, their first glory and their oldest reminiscence.
+
+One reason, perhaps, why mediæval literature assumed so light and
+unartistic a form was, that by necessity it could not be full-orbed.
+Religion could not enter into it as a plastic element, but was fixed, a
+veiled, external figure, radiating indeed color and fragrance, but
+not making one of the struggling, independent vitals of the heart.
+Literature could play about this figure, but could not grasp it, and
+take it in among the materials to be fashioned. The Church, through
+its clergy, held jealous command of divine knowledge, beneath divine
+guidance, and left no developments of it possible to the lay mind, which
+culminated in minstrels and romancers. The Greeks, on the contrary,
+whose religion was an apotheosis of the earth, framed upwards and only
+by fiction of fancy handed downwards, derived all their theology from
+the poets. Prophecy and taste were combined in Homer,--Isaiah and the
+king's jester in Pindar. The care of the highest, not less than the
+lowest departments of thought, fell upon the creative author, and
+a happy suggestion became a new article in the Hellenic creed. His
+composition thus bore the burden and was hallowed by the sanctity
+of piety, the key to every human perfect thing. But the Provençal
+celebrators of love and chivalry had no such dignity in their task. The
+solemnities of thought and life were cared for and hedged about by the
+Church as its own peculiar treasure, and to them there remained only the
+lighter office of amusing. The age was eminently religious, but the poet
+could not aid in erecting and adorning its temples. Every fair work of
+art must have a central idea; but the proper principle of unity for
+all grand artistic efforts not being within the reach of authors, it
+followed that their productions were not symmetrical, did not have an
+even outline nor cosmical meaning, did not consist of balanced parts,
+were poorly framed and articulated, and were charming only by their
+flavor, and not by their form. The cultured intellect will not seriously
+work short of a final principle; and if a materialized religion, an
+ecclesiastical structure, be firmly planted on the earth by the same
+hand that established the universe and tapestried it with morning and
+evening, and if its gates and archways, its altar, columns, and courts
+be given in trust to chosen stewards as a divine priesthood, then the
+highest problem of being is not a human problem, and the mind of the
+laity has nothing more important to do than to play with the flowers of
+gallant love and heroism. Such was the feeling, perhaps the unconscious
+reasoning, of the founders of modern literature, as they began their
+labors in the alcoves of that church architecture which covered
+Christendom, embracing and symbolically expressing all its ideas
+and institutes. Therefore some vice of imperfection, a character of
+frivolity, or an artificially serious treatment of lightsome subjects
+marked all the literature of the time, which resembled that grotesque
+and unaccountable mathematical figure that has its centre outside of
+itself.
+
+Modern literature thus had its origin in romantic metrical pieces,
+which, in the next stage, were transformed into prose novels. Two
+circumstances contributed to this change,--a change which could not have
+been anticipated; for the Trouvère _fabliaux_ and _romans_ promised only
+epics, and the Troubadour _chansons_ and _tensons_ promised only lyrics
+and dramas. But the mind was now obliged to traverse the unbeaten paths
+of the Christian universe; it was overwhelmed by the extent of its
+range, the richness and delicacy of its materials; it could with
+difficulty poise itself amid the indefinite heights and depths which
+encompassed it, and with greater difficulty could wield the magician's
+rod which should sway the driving elements into artistic reconstruction.
+This mental inadequacy alone would not have created the novel, but would
+only have made lyrics and epics rare, the works of superior minds. The
+second and cooperating circumstance was the prevalence of the Christian
+and feudal habit of contemplation, which made constant literature a
+necessity. Nothing less than eternal new romances could save the lords,
+the ladies, and the dependents from _ennui_. But to supply these in a
+style of proper and antique dignity was beyond the power of the poets.
+In the wild forests of the mind they could rarely capture a mature idea,
+and they were as yet unpractised artists. Yet contemplative leisure
+called eagerly for constant titbits of romance to tickle the palate and
+furnish a diversion, while the genius of Christian poetry was yet in
+infantile weakness. The dilemma lasted but a moment, and was solved by
+an heroic effort of the poets to do, not what they would, but what they
+could. Yielding to practical necessities, they renounced the traditions
+of the classical past, which now seemed to belong to another hemisphere,
+abandoned the attempt to realize pure forms, postponed high art; melody
+gave way to prose, the romance degenerated into the novel, and prose
+fiction, which erst had flitted only between the tongue and ear,
+entered, a straggling and reeling constellation, into the firmament of
+literature. Hence the novel is the child of human impotency and despair.
+The race thereby, with merriment and jubilee, confessed its inability
+to fulfil at once its Christian destiny as completely as the Greeks
+had fulfilled their pagan possibilities. Purity of art was left to
+the future, to Providence, or to great geniuses, but the novel became
+popular.
+
+Thus the modern novel had its genesis not merely in a contemplative
+mood, but in contemplation which was forced by the impetuous temper of
+the times to fail of ever reaching the dignity of thoughtfulness. It
+was the immature product of an immature mental state; and richly as
+sometimes it was endowed by every human faculty, by imagination, wit,
+taste, or even profound thought, it yet never reached the goal of
+thought, never solved a problem, and, in its highest examples, professed
+only to reveal, but not to guide, the reigning manners and customs.
+Rarely did its materials pass through the fiery furnace whence art
+issues; it was a work of unfaithful intellect, prompted by ideas which
+never culminated and were never realized; and it did not rise much above
+the "stuffs" of life, as distinguished from the organic creations of the
+mind. A many-limbed and shambling creature, which was not made a
+spirit by the power of an idea, it fluttered amid all the culture of a
+people,--amid the ideas and modes of the state, the church, the family,
+the world of society,--like a bungler among paint-pots; but the paints
+still remained paints on the canvas, instead of being blended and
+transfigured into a thing of beauty. It was the organ of society, but
+not of the essential truths which vitalize society, and its incidents
+did not rise much above the significance of accidents.
+
+What the novel was in knightly days, that it has continued to be. There
+is a mysterious practical potency in precedent. All ideas and institutes
+seem to grow in the direction of their first steps, as if from germs.
+Thus, the doctrines of the Church fathers are still peculiarly
+authoritative in theology, and the immemorial traditions of the common
+law are still binding in civil life. Man seems to be an experimental
+far more than a freely rational animal; for a fact in the past exerts
+a greater influence in determining future action than any new idea. A
+revolution must strike deep to eradicate the presumption in favor of
+ages. Learned men are now trying to read the hieroglyphics of the East,
+the records of an unknown history. Perhaps the result of their labors
+will temper the next period in the course of the world more than all our
+thinkers. Destiny seems to travel in the harness of precedents.
+
+Thus, in obedience to the law of precedent, the mild gambols, the
+_naïve_ superficiality, the child-like irresponsibility for thinking,
+which were the characteristics of the first European novels, have
+generally distinguished the unnumbered and unclassified broods of them
+which have abounded in subsequent literature. Designed chiefly to amuse,
+to divert for a moment rather than to present an admirable work of art,
+to interest rather than to instruct and elevate, the modern romance has
+in general excused itself from thorough elaboration. Instead of being
+a chastened and symmetrical product of the whole organic mind, it has
+mainly been inspired by the imagination, which has been called the fool
+in the family of the faculties, and wrought out by the assistance of
+memory, which mechanically links the mad suggestions of its partner
+with temporal events. It is in literature something like what a feast
+presided over by the king's jester and steward would have been in
+mediaeval social life. Let any novel be finished, let all the resources
+of the mind be conscientiously expended on it, let it become a thorough
+intellectual creation, and, instead of remaining a novel, it would
+assume the dignity of an epic, lyric, drama, philosophy, or history. Its
+nebulae would be resolved into stars.
+
+Has, then, the mild and favorite blossom, the _fabula romanensis_, which
+was so abundant in the Middle Ages, which has grown so luxuriantly
+and given so general delight in modern times,--has it no place in
+the natural history of literature? Shall it be mentioned only as an
+uncompleted something else,--as an abortive effort of thought,--as
+a crude _mélange_ of elements that have not been purified and fused
+together in the focus of the mind? And were the Muses right in refusing
+to admit it into their sacred realm of art?
+
+An affirmative answer can hardly be true; for an absurdity appears in
+the reduction that it would cause in the quantity of our veritable
+literature, and in the condemnation that it would pass on the tastes of
+many most intelligent writers and readers. Yet a comparison of the novel
+with the classical and pure forms of literature will show its unlikeness
+to them in design, dignity, and essential quality.
+
+It was a favorite thesis of Fielding, often repeated by his successors,
+that the novel is a sort of comic epopee. Yet the romantic and the epic
+styles have nothing in common, except that both are narrative. The epic,
+the rare and lofty cypress of literature, is the story of a nation and a
+civilization; the novel, of a neighborhood and a generation. A thousand
+years culminate in the former; it sums up the burden and purpose of
+a long historical period; and its characters are prominent types in
+universal history and in highest thought. But the novel is the child
+of a day; it is the organ of manners and phases, not of principles and
+passions; it does not see the phenomena of earth in heavenly or logical
+relations, does not transform life into art, and is a panorama, but not
+a picture. So long as man and heroism and strife endure, shall Achilles,
+Godfrey, Satan, and Mephistopheles be types; for they are artistic
+expressions of essential and historical realities. But though the beck
+of curiosity lead us through the labyrinthine plot of a novel, long as
+Gibbon's way through the Dark Ages, yet, when we have finished it, the
+bubble collapses, the little heavens which had been framed about us roll
+away, and most rarely does a character remain poetically significant in
+the mind.
+
+A contrast of any page of an epic with one of a romance will show
+their essential unlikeness. Note, for instance, the beginning of the
+"Gerusalemme Liberata." The first stanza presents "the illustrious
+captain who warred for Heaven and saved the sepulchre of Christ,--the
+many deeds which he wrought by arms and by wisdom,--his great toil, and
+his glorious achievement. Hell opposed him, the mingled populations
+of Asia and Africa leagued against him,--but all in vain, for Heaven
+smiled, and guided the wandering bands beneath his sacred ensigns." Such
+are the splendid elements of the poem, outlining in a stanza the finest
+type, objects, and scenery of mediaeval heroism. The second stanza
+invokes the Muse,--"Not thou whose brow was wreathed with the unenduring
+bays of Helicon, but thou who in angelic choirs hast a golden crown set
+with immortal stars,--do thou breathe celestial ardor into the poet's
+heart!" Then follows an allusion to a profound matter of temper and
+experience. He prays that "the Muse will pardon, if sometimes he adorn
+his page with other charms than her own; for thus, perhaps, he may
+win the world to his higher meanings, shrouding severe truths in soft
+verses. As the rim of the bitter cup is sweetened which is extended to
+the sick child, so may he, by beauties not quite Christian, attract
+mankind to read his whole poem to their health." Such is the stately
+soaring of the epical Muse, the Muse of ideal history. Scholars find
+Greece completely prefigured in Homer, and the time may come when Dante
+and Tasso shall be the leading authorities for the history of the Middle
+Ages, and Milton for that of the ages of Protestantism.
+
+In such comparison novels are insignificant and imbecile. Though, like
+"Contarini Fleming," they may begin with a magnificent paragraph, and
+fine passages be scattered through the volumes, they are yet rarely
+stories of ideas as well as persons, rarely succeed in involving events
+of more than temporary interest, and rarely, perhaps, should be called
+great mental products.
+
+Not less strikingly does the difference between the epic and the novel
+appear in their different uses. The one is the inspiration of great
+historical action, the other of listless repose. The statesman, in the
+moment of debate, and in the dignity of conscious power, finds sympathy
+and encouragement in a passage of his favorite epic. Its grand types
+are ever in fellowship with high thoughts. The novel is for the lighter
+moment after the deed is done, when he is no longer brunting Fate, but
+reclining idly, and reflecting humorously or malignly on this life. The
+epic is closely and strongly framed, like the gladiator about to strike
+a blow: the novel is relaxed and at careless ease, like the club-man
+after lighting his pipe. The latter does not bear the burden of severe
+responsibility, but is a thing of holidays and reactions. Still, as of
+old, it answers to the contemplative castellar cry,--"Hail, romancer!
+come and divert me,--make me merry! I wish to be occupied, but not
+employed,--to muse passively, not actively. Therefore, hail! tell me
+a story,--sing me a song! If I were now in the van of an army and
+civilization, higher thoughts would engross me. But I am unstrung, and
+wish to be fanned, not helmeted."
+
+It has sometimes been claimed that the romantic style is essentially
+lyrical. But though the idea from which many novels start was perhaps
+the proper germ for one or more lyrics, it never attains in romance
+a pure and unincumbered development. We may illustrate the different
+intellectual creations founded on a common conception by imagining how
+one of Wordsworth's lyrical fancies might have been developed in three
+volumes of romance instead of three stanzas of poetry.
+
+ "She dwelt among the untrodden ways,
+ Beside the springs of Dove,
+ A maid whom there were none to praise,
+ And very few to love."
+
+The first line, romantically treated, would include description,
+soliloquy, and narrative, to show that in solitude the maiden had
+habits, duties, something to think about and be interested in. The
+accidental approach of some cosmopolitan visitor would give occasion to
+illustrate dramatically the contrast between life in retirement and in
+society. Some novelists also would inflict, either by direct lecture
+or by conversation of the actors, very admirable reflections on the
+comparative advantages of the two conditions. The second line would
+perhaps suggest only geographical lore and descriptions of scenery,
+though historical episodes might be added. The third line would
+involve a minute description of dress, complexion, stature, and wild
+gracefulness. In a psychological investigation it would come out what
+strange and simple notions she entertained of the great world, and what
+charming qualities of unsophisticated character belonged to her as she
+merrily or pensively went through her accustomed tasks. The fourth line,
+in which love is the text, would swell into mammoth proportions. New
+characters would be especially necessary in this culminating part of the
+story; and though they should be "very few," they would long occupy the
+novelist with their diverse excellencies or villanies, their rivalries
+and strategies. It is probable that the complete development of the
+stanza _à la romance_ would give a circumstantial history of the maiden
+from her birth, with glimpses more or less clear of all the remarkable
+people who dwelt near or occasionally visited the springs of Dove. Thus
+the same conception would become a stanza or a volume, according as its
+treatment were lyrical or romantic.
+
+It need hardly be shown that the novel is not a drama, not a history,
+nor fable, nor any sort of philosophical treatise. It may have
+sentences, paragraphs, or perhaps chapters, in every style and of the
+highest excellence, as a shapeless architectural pile may rejoice in
+some exquisite features or ornaments; but combined passages, though they
+were the collected charms of literature, do not make a work of art. The
+styles are mixed,--a certain sign, according to Lessing, of corruption
+of taste. Novels present the anomaly of being fiction, but not
+poetry,--of being fruits of imagination, but of imagination improvising
+its creations from local and temporal things, instead of speaking from
+a sublime stand-point and linking series of facts with processions of
+ideas. Sources of history, guides of philosophical retrospection, they
+may come some time to be; yet one cannot check a feeling of pity for
+the future historian who, in searching the "Pickwick Papers"
+for antiquities, finds himself bothered and confused by all the
+undisciplined witches of Mr. Dickens's imagination.
+
+If the novel be thus excluded from all the classical orders of
+literature, a trembling question is suggested, whether it may not be
+nevertheless a legitimate work of art. Though it be a _mélange_ of
+styles, a story told, in literature what the story-teller is in
+society, yet why should it not have the honor among readers which
+the story-teller in all ages has had among listeners? Though by
+its escutcheon it assume a place among the amusing rather than the
+instructive class of books, why should not its nobility be recognized?
+
+The answer is found in the essential nature of art, in the almost
+eternal distinction between life and thought, between actual and ideal
+realities. Unity amid diversity is the type of intellectual beauty and
+the law of the universe; to comprehend it is the goal of science, and
+to reproduce it in human works is the aim of art. Yet how hard it is to
+find the central and essential idea in a world of apparent accidents and
+delusions! to chase the real and divine thing as it plays among cheats
+and semblances! Hence the difficulty of thorough thought, of faithful
+intellectual performance, of artistic creation. To the thoughtless man
+life is merely the rough and monotonous exterior of the cameo-stone; but
+the artist sees through its strata, discerns its layers of many colors,
+and from its surface to its vital centre works them all together into
+varied beauty. To live is common; but art belongs only to the finest
+minds and the best moments. Life is a burden of present multitudinous
+phenomena; but art has the simple unity of perfect science, and is
+a goal and aspiration. Life comes by birth, art by thought, and the
+travail that produces art is ofttimes the severer. The fashions of life
+are bubbles on the surface, and pass away with the season; but the
+creations of art belong to the depths of the spiritual world, where they
+shine like stars and systems in the physical universe.
+
+Story-telling is the most charming of occupations, and, whatever its
+relation to literary art, it is one of the graces of the art of life.
+Old as the race, it has always been in fashion on the earth, the delight
+of every clime from the Orient to the Occident, and of every age from
+childhood to second childhood. We live in such a concatenation of
+things,--our hopes, fears, loves, hates, struggles, sympathies, defeats,
+and triumphs make such a medley, with a sort of divine fascination about
+it,--that we are always interested to hear how anybody has borne himself
+through whatever varieties of fortune. At the basis of every other
+character which can be assumed by man lie the conceiver and the teller
+of stories; story-telling is the _primá facie_ quality of an intelligent
+and sociable being leading a life full of events in a universe full
+of phenomena. The child believes the wonders of romance by a right
+instinct; narratives of love and peril and achievement come home to the
+spirit of the youth; and the mystical, wonder-expecting eye of childhood
+returns to old age. The humor, wit, piety, and pathos of every age
+abound in the written stories of its people and children.
+
+Yet between the vocal story and the story in literature there is an
+immense difference, like that between talking and writing, between life
+and art. The qualities which in the story-teller make even frivolity
+weighty and dulness significant--the play of the eye, the lips, the
+countenance, the voice, the whole sympathetic expression of the
+person--are wanting to the novel; it has passed from the realm of life
+to that of art; it loses the charm which personal relations give even
+to trifles; it must have the charm which the mind can lend only to its
+cherished offspring.
+
+Considered as a thing of literature, no other sort of book admits of
+such variety of topics, style, and treatment as the novel. As diverse
+in talent and quality as the story-teller himself,--now harlequin, now
+gossip, now threnodist,--with weird ghostliness, moping melancholy,
+uncouth laughter, or gentle serious smile,--now relating the story, with
+childlike interest in it, now with a good heart and now with a bad heart
+ridiculing mankind, now allegorical with rich meanings, now freighting
+the little story-cricket that creeps along from page to page with
+immense loads of science, history, politics, ethics, religion,
+criticism, and prophecy,--always regarded with kindness, always welcomed
+in idleness, always presenting in a simple way some spectacle of
+merriment or grief, as changeful as the seasons or the fashions,--with
+all its odd characteristics, the novel is remarkably popular, and not
+lightly to be esteemed as an element in our social and mental culture.
+
+There is probably no other class of books, with literary pretensions,
+that contain so little thinking, in proportion to their quantity of
+matter, as novels. They can scarcely be called organic productions, for
+they may be written and published in sections, like one of the lowest
+classes of animals, which have no organization, but live equally well in
+parts, and run off in opposite directions when cut in halves. Thoughts
+and books, like living creatures, have their grades, and it is only
+those which stand lowest in respect of intellectuality that admit of
+fractional existence. A finished work of the mind is so delicately
+adjusted and closely related, part to part, that a fracture would be
+fatal. Conceive of Phidias sending off from his studio at Athens his
+statue of Jupiter Olympius in monthly numbers,--despatching now the
+feet, now the legs, now the trunk, in successive pieces, now the
+shoulders, and at last crowning the whole with a head!
+
+The composition of novels must be reckoned, in design at least, one of
+the fine arts, but in fact they belong rather to periodical than to
+immortal literature. They do not submit to severity of treatment, abide
+by no critical laws, but are the gypsies and Bohemians of literature,
+bringing all the savagery of wild genius into the _salons_ of taste.
+Though tolerated, admired, and found to be interesting, they do not
+belong to the system of things, play no substantial part in the serious
+business of life, but, as the world moves on, give place to their
+successors, not having developed any principle, presented any picture,
+or stated any fact, in a way to suggest ideas more than social
+phenomena. They are not permanent, therefore, because finally only
+ideas, and not facts, are generally remembered; the past is known to us
+more, and exclusively as it becomes remote, by the conceptions of poets
+and philosophic historians, the myriads of events which occupied a
+generation being forgotten, and all the pith and meaning of them being
+transmitted in a stanza or a chapter. Poetry never grows old, and
+whatsoever masterpieces of thought always win the admiration of the
+enlightened; but many a novel that has been the lion of a season passes
+at once away, never more to be heard of here. With few exceptions, the
+splendid popularity that greets the best novels fades away in time
+slowly or rapidly. A half-century is a fatal trial for the majority; few
+are revived, and almost none are read, after a century; will anybody
+but the most curious antiquary be interested in them after one or
+two thousand years? Without delaying to give the full rationale of
+exceptions which vex this like every other general remark, it may
+be added briefly that fairy stories are in their nature fantastic
+mythological poems, most proper to the heroic age of childhood, that
+historical romances may be in essence and dignity fantastic histories or
+epics, and that, from whatever point of view, Cervantes remains hardly
+less admirable than Ariosto, or the "Bride of Lammermoor" than the "Lay
+of the Last Minstrel."
+
+In the mental as in the physical world, art, diamonds and gems come by
+long elaboration. A thoughtless man may write perennially, while the
+result of silent meditation and a long tortured soul may be expressed
+in a minute. The work of the former is akin to conversation, one of the
+fugitive pleasures of a day; that of the latter will, perchance, be a
+star in the firmament of the mind. Eugène Sue and Béranger both wished
+to communicate their reflections on society. The former dissipated his
+energies in the _salons_, was wise and amusing over wine, exchanged
+learning and jests, studied the drawing-room as if it were the
+macrocosm, returned to his chamber, put on kid gloves, and from the odds
+and ends of his dishevelled wits wrote at a gallop, without ever looking
+back, his "Mystères de Paris." The latter lived in an attic year after
+year, contemplated with cheerful anxiety the volatile world of France
+and the perplexed life of man, and elaborated word by word, with
+innumerable revisions, his short songs, which are gems of poetry,
+charming at once the ear and the heart. Novels are perhaps too easily
+written to be of lasting value. An unpremeditated word, in which the
+thoughts of years are exploded, may be one of the most admirable of
+intellectual phenomena, but an unpremeditated volume can only be a
+demonstration of human weakness.
+
+The argument thus far has been in favor of the Muses. Hellenic taste and
+the principles of high art ratify the condemnation passed on the novel
+by the aesthetic goddesses. A wider view, however, will annul the
+sentence, giving in its stead a warning and a lesson. If the prose
+romance be not Hellenic, it is nevertheless humane, and has been in
+honor almost universally throughout the Orient and the Occident. Its
+absence from the classical literature was a marvel and exception, a
+phenomenon of the clearest-minded and most active of races, who thought,
+but did not contemplate,--whose ideal world consisted only of simple,
+but stately legends of bright-limbed gods and heroes. A felicitous
+production of high art, also, is among the rarest of exceptions, and
+will be till the Millennium. Myriads of comparative failures follow in
+the suite of a masterpiece. We have, therefore, judged the novel by an
+impracticable standard, by a comparison with the highest aims rather
+than the usual attainments of other branches of literary art. Human
+weakness makes poetry, philosophy, and history imperfect in execution,
+though they aspire to absolute beauty and truth; human weakness
+suggested the novel, which is imperfect in design, written as an
+amusement and relief, in despair of sounding the universe. A novel is in
+its nature and as a matter of necessity an artistic failure; it
+pretends to nothing higher; but under the slack laws which govern its
+composition, multitudes of fine and suggestive characters, incidents,
+and sayings may be smuggled into it, contrary to all the usages and
+rules of civilized literature. Hence the secret of its popularity,
+that it is the organ of average as distinguished from highest thought.
+Science and art are the goals of destiny, but rarely is there a
+thinker or writer who has an eye single to them. It is an heroic,
+self-sacrificing, and small platoon which in every age brunts Fate, and,
+fighting on the shadowy frontier, makes conquests from the realm of
+darkness. Their ideas are passed back from hand to hand, and become
+known in fragments and potent as tendencies among the mass of the race,
+who live in the circle of the attained and travel in the routine of
+ages. The novelist is one of the number who half comprehend them, and
+borrows them from all quarters to introduce into the rich _mélange_ of
+his work. To solve a social problem, to reproduce an historical age or
+character, or to develop the truth and poetry latent in any event, is
+difficult, and not many will either lead or follow a severe attempt;
+but the novelist will merrily chronicle his story and link with it in a
+thousand ways some salient reminiscences of life and thought.
+
+What, then, is the highest excellence that the novel can attain? It is
+the carnival of literary art. It deals sympathetically and humorously,
+not philosophically and strictly, with the panorama and the principles
+of life. A transcript, but not a transfiguration of Nature, it assumes a
+thousand forms, surpassing all other books in the immense latitude left
+to the writer, in the wild variety of things which it may touch, but
+need not grasp. Its elements are the forests, the cities, and the seven
+ages of man,--characters and fortunes how diversified! All species
+of thinkers and actors, of ideas and passions, all the labyrinthine
+complications and scenery of existence, may be illustrated in persons or
+introduced by-the-by; into whatever colors make up the phantasmagoria
+of collective humanity the novelist may dip his brush, in painting
+his moving picture. Yet problems need not be fully appreciated, nor
+characters or actions profoundly understood. It must be an engrossing
+story, but the theme and treatment are as lawless as the conversation of
+an evening party. The mind plays through all the realm of its knowledge
+and experience, and sheds sparks from all the torches of thought, as
+scenes and topics succeed each other. The pure forms of literature may
+be reminiscences present to the imagination, the germs of new truths and
+social arrangements may occupy the reason; but the novelist is neither
+practical, nor philosophical, nor artistic; he is simply in a dream; and
+pictures of the world and fragments of old ideas pass before him, as the
+sacred meanings of religion flitted about the populace in a grotesque
+mediæval festival of the Church. Conceive the stars dropped from their
+place in the apparent heavens, and playing at shuttlecock with each
+other and with boys, and having a heyday of careless joyousness here
+below, instead of remaining in sublime dignity to guide and inspire men
+who look up to them by night! Even such are the epic, the lyric, the
+drama, the history, and the philosophy, as collected together in the
+revelries of the novel. To state the degree of excellence possible to
+a style as perverse as it is entertaining, to measure the wisdom of
+essential folly, is difficult; and yet it may be said that the strength
+of the novel is in its lawlessness, which leaves the author of genius
+free to introduce his creations just as they occur to him, and the
+author of talent free to range through all books and all time and
+reproduce brilliant sayings and odd characters,--which, with no other
+connecting thread than a story, freaks like a spirit through every
+shade of feeling and region of thought, from the domestic hearth to the
+ultimate bounds of speculative inquiry,--and which, by its daring
+and careless combinations of incongruous elements, exhibits a free
+embodiment in prose of the peculiar genius of the romantic.
+
+And some philosophers have styled romance the special glory of
+Christianity. It is certainly the characteristic of critical as
+distinguished from organic periods,--of the mind acting mystically in
+a savage and unknown universe, rather than of the mind that has reduced
+the heavens and earth to its arts and sciences. The novel, therefore,
+as the wildest organ of romance, is most appropriate to a time of great
+intellectual agitation, when intellectual men are but half-conscious of
+the tendencies that are setting about them, and consequently cease to
+propose to themselves final goals, do not attempt scrupulous art, but
+play jubilantly with current facts. Hence, perhaps, its popularity since
+the first conflicts of the Protestant Reformation, and especially since
+the great French Revolution, when amid new inventions and new ideas
+mankind has contemplatively looked for the coming events, the new
+historical eras, which were casting their shadows before.
+
+When, some time, Christian art shall become classical, and Christian
+ideas be developed by superior men as fairly as the Hellenic conceptions
+were, the novel may either assume to itself some peculiar excellency, or
+may cease to hold the comparative rank in literature which it enjoys at
+present. Then the numberless prose romances which occupy the present
+generation of readers will, perhaps, be collected in some immense
+_corpus_, like the Byzantine historians, will be reckoned among the
+curiosities of literature, and will at least have the merit of making
+the study of antiquities easy and interesting. There is an old
+couplet,--
+
+ Of all those arts in which the wise excel,
+ Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.
+
+At a time when extemporaneous composition and thoughtless reading are
+much in fashion, it will not be amiss to invoke profounder studies, and
+slower, but more useful and permanent results. Let it be remembered that
+even the Divine Mind first called into being the chaos of creation, and
+then in seven days reviewed and elaborated it into a beautiful order.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+A LEGEND OF MARYLAND.
+
+"AN OWRE TRUE TALE."
+
+[Concluded.]
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE OLD CITY.
+
+
+Let me now once more shift the scene. In the summer of 1684, the
+peaceful little port of St. Mary's was visited by a phenomenon of rare
+occurrence in those days. A ship of war of the smaller class, with the
+Cross of St. George sparkling on her broad flag, came gliding to an
+anchorage abreast the town. The fort of St. Inigoes gave the customary
+salute, which I have reason to believe was not returned. Not long after
+this, a bluff, swaggering, vulgar captain came on shore. He made no
+visit of respect or business to any member of the Council. He gave no
+report of his character or the purpose of his visit, but strolled to the
+tavern,--I suppose to that kept by Mr. Cordea, who, in addition to his
+calling of keeper of the ordinary, was the most approved shoemaker of
+the city,--and here regaled himself with a potation of strong waters.
+It is likely that he then repaired to Mr. Blakiston's, the King's
+Collector,--a bitter and relentless enemy of the Lord Proprietary,--and
+there may have met Kenelm Chiseldine, John Coode, Colonel Jowles, and
+others noted for their hatred of the Calvert family, and in such company
+as this indulged himself in deriding Lord Baltimore and his government,
+During his stay in the port, his men came on shore, and, imitating their
+captain's unamiable temper, roamed in squads about the town and its
+neighborhood, conducting themselves in a noisy, hectoring manner towards
+the inhabitants, disturbing the repose of the quiet burghers, and
+shocking their ears with ribald abuse of the authorities. These
+roystering sailors--I mention it as a point of historical interest--had
+even the audacity to break into Alderman Garret Van Swearingen's garden,
+and to pluck up and carry away his cabbages and other vegetables,
+and--according to the testimony of Mr. Cordea, whose indignation was the
+more intense from his veneration for the Alderman, and from the fact
+that he made his Worship's shoes--they would have killed one of his
+Worship's sheep, if his (Cordea's) man had not prevented them; and
+after this, as if on purpose more keenly to lacerate his feelings, they
+brought these cabbages to Cordea's house, and there boiled them before
+his eyes,--he being sick and not able to drive them away.
+
+After a few days spent in this manner, the swaggering captain--whose
+name, it was soon bruited about, was Thomas Allen, of his Majesty's
+Navy--went on board of his ketch,--or brig, as we should call it,--the
+Quaker, weighed anchor, and set sail towards the Potomac, and thence
+stood down the Bay upon the coast of Virginia. Every now and then, after
+his departure, there came reports to the Council of insults offered by
+Captain Allen to the skippers of sundry Bay craft and other peaceful
+traders on the Chesapeake; these insults consisting generally in
+wantonly compelling them to heave to and submit to his search, in
+vexatiously detaining them, overhauling their papers, and offending
+them with coarse vituperation of themselves, as well as of the Lord
+Proprietary and his Council.
+
+About a month later the Quaker was observed to enter the Patuxent River,
+and cast anchor just inside of the entrance, near the Calvert County
+shore, and opposite Christopher Rousby's house at Drum Point. This
+was--says my chronicle--on Thursday, the 30th of October, in this year
+1684. As yet Captain Allen had not condescended to make any report of
+his arrival in the Province to any officer of the Proprietary.
+
+On Sunday morning, the 2d of November, the city was thrown into a
+state of violent ebullition--like a little red-hot tea-kettle--by the
+circulation of a rumor that got wind about the hour the burghers were
+preparing to go to church. It was brought from Patuxent late in the
+previous night, and was now whispered from one neighbor to another, and
+soon came to boil with an extraordinary volume of steam. Stripping it
+of the exaggeration natural to such an excitement, the rumor was
+substantially this: That Colonel Talbot, hearing of the arrival of
+Captain Allen in the Patuxent on Thursday, and getting no message or
+report from him, set off on Friday morning, in an angry state of mind,
+and rode over to Patuxent, determined to give the unmannerly captain a
+lesson upon his duty. That as soon as he reached Mattapony House,
+he took his boat and went on board the ketch. That there he found
+Christopher Rousby, the King's Collector, cronying with Captain Allen,
+and upholding him in his disrespect to the government. That Colonel
+Talbot was very sharp upon Rousby, not liking him for old grudges, and
+more moved against him now; and that he spoke his mind both to Captain
+Allen and Christopher Rousby, and so got into a high quarrel with them.
+That when he had said all he desired to say to them, he made a move to
+leave the ketch in his boat, intending to return to Mattapony House; but
+they who were in the cabin prevented him, and would not let him go. That
+thereupon the quarrel broke out afresh, and became more bitter; and it
+being now in the night, and all in a great heat of passion, the parties
+having already come from words to blows, Talbot drew his skean, or
+dagger, and stabbed Rousby to the heart. That nothing was known on
+shore of the affray till Saturday evening, when the body was brought to
+Rousby's house; after which it became known to the neighborhood; and one
+of the men of Major Sewall's plantation, which adjoined Rousby's, having
+thus heard of it, set out and rode that night over to St. Mary's with
+the news, which he gave to the Major before midnight. It was added, that
+Colonel Talbot was now detained on board of the ketch, as a prisoner, by
+Captain Allen.
+
+This was the amount of the dreadful story over which the gossips of St.
+Mary's were shaking their wise heads and discoursing on "crowner's quest
+law" that Sunday morning.
+
+As soon as Major Sewall received these unhappy midnight tidings, he went
+instantly to his colleague, Colonel Darnall, and communicated them to
+him; and they, being warm friends of Talbot's, were very anxious to get
+him out of the custody of this Captain Allen. They therefore, on Sunday
+morning, issued a writ directed to Roger Brooke, the sheriff of Calvert
+County, commanding him to arrest the prisoner and bring him before
+the Council. Their next move was to ride over--the same morning--to
+Patuxent, taking with them Mr. Robert Carvil, and John Llewellin, their
+secretary. Upon reaching the river, all four went on board the ketch
+to learn the particulars of the quarrel. These particulars are not
+preserved in the record; and we have nothing better than our conjectures
+as to what they disclosed. We know nothing specific of the cause or
+character of the quarrel. The visitors found Talbot loaded with irons,
+and Captain Allen in a brutal state of exasperation, swearing that he
+would not surrender his prisoner to the authorities of the Province, but
+would carry him to Virginia and deliver him to the government there, to
+be dealt with as Lord Effingham should direct. He was grossly insulting
+to the two members of the Council who had come on this inquiry; and
+after they had left his vessel, in the pinnace, to return to the shore,
+he affected to believe that they had some concealed force lying in wait
+to seize the pinnace and its crew, and so ordered them back on board,
+but after a short detention thought better of it, and suffered them
+again to depart.
+
+The contumacy of the captain, and the declaration of his purpose to
+carry away Talbot out of the jurisdiction of the Province within which
+the crime was committed, and to deliver him to the Governor of Virginia,
+was a grave assault upon the dignity of the government and a gross
+contempt of the public authorities, which required the notice of the
+Council. A meeting of this body was therefore held on the Patuxent,
+at Rich Neck, on the morning of the 4th of November. I find that five
+members were present on that occasion. Besides Colonel Darnall and Major
+Sewall, there were Counsellor Tailler and Colonels Digges and Burgess.
+Here the matter was debated and ended in a feeble resolve,--that, if
+this Captain Allen should persist in his contumacy and take Talbot to
+Virginia, the Council should immediately demand of Lord Effingham
+his redelivery into this Province. Alas, they could only scold! This
+resolution was all they could oppose to the bullying captain and the
+guns of the troublesome little Quaker.
+
+Allen, after hectoring awhile in this fashion, and raising the wrath of
+the Colonels of the Council until they were red in the cheeks, defiantly
+took his departure, carrying with him his prisoner, in spite of the
+vehement indignation of the liegemen of the Province.
+
+We may imagine the valorous anger of our little metropolis at this
+act or crime of lese-majesty. I can see the group of angry burghers,
+collected on the porch of Cordea's tavern, in a fume as they listen to
+Master John Llewellin's account of what had taken place,--Llewellin
+himself as peppery as his namesake when he made Ancient Pistol eat
+his leek; and I fancy I can hear Alderman Van Swearingen's choleric
+explosion against Lord Effingham, supposing his Lordship should presume
+to slight the order of the Council in respect to Talbot's return.
+
+But these fervors were too violent to last. Christopher Rousby was duly
+deposited under the greensward upon the margin of Harper's Creek, where
+I found him safe, if not sound, more than a hundred and fifty years
+afterwards. The metropolis gradually ceased to boil, and slowly fell
+to its usual temperature of repose, and no more disturbed itself with
+thoughts of the terrible captain. Talbot, upon being transferred to the
+dominion of Virginia, was confined in the jail of Gloucester County, in
+the old town of Gloucester, on the northern bank of York River.
+
+The Council now opened their correspondence with Lord Effingham,
+demanding the surrender of their late colleague. On their part, it was
+marked by a deferential respect, which, it is evident, they did not
+feel, and which seems to denote a timid conviction of the favor of
+Virginia and the disgrace of Maryland in the personal feelings of the
+King. It is manifest they were afraid of giving offence to the lordly
+governor of the neighboring Province. On the part of Lord Effingham, the
+correspondence is cavalier, arrogant, and peremptory.
+
+The Council write deploringly to his Lordship. They "pray"--as they
+phrase it--"in humble, civil, and obliging terms, to have the prisoner
+safely returned to this government." They add,--"Your Excellency's great
+wisdom, prudence, and integrity, as well as neighborly affection and
+kindness for this Province, manifested and expressed, will, we doubt
+not, spare us the labor of straining for arguments to move your
+Excellency's consideration to this our so just and reasonable demand."
+Poor Colonel Darnall, Poor Colonel Digges, and the rest of you Colonels
+and Majors,--to write such whining hypocrisy as this! George Talbot
+would not have written to Lord Effingham in such phrase, if one of you
+had been unlawfully transported to his prison and Talbot were your
+pleader!
+
+The nobleman to whom this servile language was addressed was a hateful
+despot, who stands marked in the history of Virginia for his oppressive
+administration, his arrogance, and his faithlessness.
+
+To give this beseeching letter more significance and the flattery it
+contained more point, it was committed to the charge of two gentlemen
+who were commissioned to deliver it in person to his Lordship. These
+were Mr. Clement Hill and Mr. Anthony Underwood.
+
+Effingham's answer was cool, short, and admonitory. The essence of it
+is in these words:--"We do not think it warrantable to comply with your
+desires, but shall detain Talbot prisoner until his Majesty's particular
+commands be known therein." A postscript is added of this import:--"I
+recommend to your consideration, that you take care, as far as in you
+lies, that, in the matter of the Customs, his Majesty receive no further
+detriment by this unfortunate accident."
+
+One almost rejoices to read such an answer to the fulsome language which
+drew it out. This correspondence runs through several such epistles. The
+Council complain of the rudeness and coarse behavior of Captain Allen,
+and particularly of his traducing Lord Baltimore's government and
+attempting to excite the people against it. Lord Effingham professes to
+disbelieve such charges against "an officer who has so long served his
+King with fidelity, and who could not but know what was due to his
+superiors."
+
+Occasionally this same faithful officer, Captain Allen himself,
+reappears upon the stage. We catch him at a gentleman's house in
+Virginia, boasting over his cups--for he seems to have paid habitual
+tribute to a bowl of punch--that he will break up the government of
+Maryland, and annex this poor little Province of ours to Virginia: a
+fact worth notice just now, as it makes it clear that annexation is not
+the new idea of the Nineteenth Century, but lived in very muddy brains
+a long time ago. I now quit this correspondence to look after a bit of
+romance in a secret adventure.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+A PLOT.
+
+
+We must return to the Manor of New Connaught upon the Elk River.
+
+There we shall find a sorrowful household. The Lord of the Manor is in
+captivity; his people are dejected with a presentiment that they are to
+see him no more; his wife is lamenting with her children, and counting
+the weary days of his imprisonment.
+
+ "His hounds they all run masterless,
+ His hawks they flee from tree to tree."
+
+Everything in the hospitable woodland home is changed. November,
+December, January had passed by since Talbot was lodged in the
+Gloucester prison, and still no hope dawned upon the afflicted lady. The
+forest around her bowled with the rush of the winter wind, but neither
+the wilderness nor the winter was so desolate as her own heart. The fate
+of her husband was in the hands of his enemies. She trembled at the
+thought of his being forced to a trial for his life in Virginia, where
+he would be deprived of that friendly sympathy so necessary even to the
+vindication of innocence, and where he ran the risk of being condemned
+without defence, upon the testimony of exasperated opponents.
+
+But she was a strong-hearted and resolute woman, and would not despair.
+She had many friends around her,--friends devoted to her husband and
+herself. Amongst these was Phelim Murray, a cornet of cavalry under the
+command of Talbot,--a brave, reckless, true-hearted comrade, who had
+often shared the hospitality, the adventurous service, and the sports of
+his commander.
+
+To Murray I attribute the planning of the enterprise I am now about
+to relate. He had determined to rescue his chief from his prison in
+Virginia. His scheme required the coöperation of Mrs. Talbot and one of
+her youngest children,--the pet boy, perhaps, of the family, some two
+or three years old,--I imagine, the special favorite of the father. The
+adventure was a bold one, involving many hardships and perils. Towards
+the end of January, the lady, accompanied by her boy with his nurse, and
+attended by two Irish men-servants, repaired to St. Mary's, where she
+was doubtless received as a guest in the mansion of the Proprietary, now
+the residence of young Benedict Leonard and those of the family who had
+not accompanied Lord Baltimore to England.
+
+Whilst Mrs. Talbot tarried here, the Cornet was busy in his
+preparations. He had brought the Colonel's shallop from Elk River to the
+Patuxent, and was here concerting a plan to put the little vessel under
+the command of some ostensible owner who might appear in the character
+of its master to any over-curious or inopportune questioner. He had
+found a man exactly to his hand in a certain Roger Skreene, whose name
+might almost be thought to be adopted for the occasion and to express
+the part he had to act. He was what we may call the sloop's husband, but
+was bound to do whatever Murray commanded, to ask no questions, and
+to be profoundly ignorant of the real objects of the expedition.
+This pliant auxiliary had, like many thrifty--or more probably
+thriftless--persons of that time, a double occupation. He was amphibious
+in his habits, and lived equally on land and water. At home he was a
+tailor, and abroad a seaman, frequently plying his craft as a skipper
+on the Bay, and sufficiently known in the latter vocation to render his
+present employment a matter to excite no suspicious remark. It will
+be perceived in the course of his present adventure that he was quite
+innocent of any avowed complicity in the design which he was assisting.
+
+Murray had a stout companion with him, a good friend to Talbot, probably
+one of the familiar frequenters of the Manor House of New Connaught,--a
+bold fellow, with a hand and a heart both ready for any perilous
+service. He may have been a comrade of the Cornet's in his troop. His
+name was Hugh Riley,--a name that has been traditionally connected with
+dare-devil exploits ever since the days of Dermot McMorrogh. There have
+been, I believe, but few hard fights in the world, to which Irishmen
+have had anything to say, without a Hugh Riley somewhere in the thickest
+part of them.
+
+The preparations being now complete, Murray anchored his shallop near a
+convenient landing,--perhaps within the Mattapony Creek.
+
+In the dead of winter, about the 30th of January, 1685, Mrs. Talbot,
+with her servants, her child, and nurse, set forth from the Proprietary
+residence in St. Mary's, to journey over to the Patuxent,--a cold, bleak
+ride of fifteen miles. The party were all on horseback: the young boy,
+perhaps, wrapped in thick coverings, nestling in the arms of one of the
+men: Mrs. Talbot braving the sharp wind in hood and cloak, and warmed
+by her own warm heart, which beat with a courageous pulse against the
+fierce blasts that swept and roared across her path. Such a cavalcade,
+of course, could not depart from St. Mary's without observation at any
+season; but at this time of the year so unusual a sight drew every
+inhabitant to the windows, and set in motion a current of gossip that
+bore away all other topics from every fireside. The gentlemen of the
+Council, too, doubtless had frequent conference with the unhappy wife of
+their colleague, during her sojourn in the Government House, and perhaps
+secretly counselled with her on her adventure. Whatever outward or
+seeming pretext may have been adopted for this movement, we can hardly
+suppose that many friends of the Proprietary were ignorant of its
+object. We have, indeed, evidence that the enemies of the Proprietary
+charged the Council with a direct connivance in the scheme of Talbot's
+escape, and made it a subject of complaint against Lord Baltimore that
+he afterwards approved of it.
+
+Upon her arrival at the Patuxent, Mrs. Talbot went immediately on board
+of the sloop, with her attendants. There she found the friendly cornet
+and his comrade, Hugh Riley, on the alert to distinguish their loyalty
+in her cause. The amphibious Master Skreene was now at the head of a
+picked crew,--the whole party consisting of five stout men, with the
+lady, her child, and nurse. All the men but Skreene were sons of the
+Emerald Isle,--of a race whose historical boast is the faithfulness of
+their devotion to a friend in need and their chivalrous courtesy to
+woman, but still more their generous and gallant championship of woman
+in distress. On this occasion this national sentiment was enhanced when
+it was called into exercise in behalf of the sorrowful lady of the chief
+of their border settlements.
+
+They set sail from the Patuxent on Saturday, the 31st of January. On
+Wednesday, the fifth day afterwards, they landed on the southern bank of
+the Rappahannock, at the house of Mr. Ralph Wormeley, near the mouth of
+the river. This long voyage of five days over so short a distance would
+seem to indicate that they departed from the common track of navigation
+to avoid notice.
+
+The next morning Mr. Wormeley furnished them horses and a servant, and
+Mrs. Talbot, with the nurse and child, under the conduct of Cornet
+Murray, set out for Gloucester,--a distance of some twenty miles. The
+day following,--that is, on Friday,--the servant returned with the
+horses, having left the party behind. Saturday passed and part of
+Sunday, when, in the evening, Mrs. Talbot and the Cornet reappeared at
+Mr. Wormeley's. The child and nurse had been left behind; and this was
+accounted for by Mrs. Talbot's saying she had left the child with his
+father, to remain with him until she should return to Virginia. I infer
+that the child was introduced into this adventure to give some seeming
+to the visit which might lull suspicion and procure easier access to the
+prisoner; and the leaving of him in Gloucester proves that Mrs. Talbot
+had friends, and probably confederates there, to whose care he was
+committed.
+
+As soon as the party had left the shallop, upon their first arrival at
+Mr. Wormeley's, the wily Master Skreene discovered that he had business
+at a landing farther up the river; and thither he straightway took his
+vessel,--Wormeley's being altogether too suspicious a place for him to
+frequent. And now, when Mrs. Talbot had returned to Wormeley's, Roger's
+business above, of course, was finished, and he dropped down again
+opposite the house on Monday evening; and the next morning took the
+Cornet and the lady on board. Having done this, he drew out into the
+river. This brings us to Tuesday, the 10th of February.
+
+As soon as Mrs. Talbot was once more embarked in the shallop, Murray and
+Riley (I give Master Skreene's own account of the facts, as I find it in
+his testimony subsequently taken before the Council) made a pretext to
+go on shore, taking one of the men with them. They were going to look
+for a cousin of this man,--so they told Skreene,--and besides that,
+intended to go to a tavern to buy a bottle of rum: all of which Skreene
+gives the Council to understand he verily believed to be the real object
+of their visit.
+
+The truth was, that, as soon as Murray and Riley and their companion had
+reached the shore, they mounted on horseback and galloped away in the
+direction of Gloucester prison. From the moment they disappeared on this
+gallop until their return, we have no account of what they did. Roger
+Skreene's testimony before the Council is virtuously silent on this
+point.
+
+After this party was gone, Mrs. Talbot herself took command, and, with a
+view to more privacy, ordered Roger to anchor near the opposite shore of
+the river, taking advantage of the concealment afforded by a small inlet
+on the northern side. Skreene says he did this at her request, because
+she expressed a wish to taste some of the oysters from that side of the
+river, which he, with his usual facility, believed to be the only reason
+for getting into this unobserved harbor; and, merely to gratify this
+wish, he did as she desired.
+
+The day went by slowly to the lady on the water. Cold February, a little
+sloop, and the bleak roadstead at the mouth of the Rappahannock brought
+but few comforts to the anxious wife, who sat muffled upon that unstable
+deck, watching the opposite shore, whilst the ceaseless plash of the
+waves breaking upon her ear numbered the minutes that marked the weary
+hours, and the hours that marked the still more weary day. She watched
+for the party who had galloped into the sombre pine-forest that
+sheltered the road leading to Gloucester, and for the arrival of that
+cousin of whom Murray spoke to Master Skreene.
+
+But if the time dragged heavily with her, it flew with the Cornet and
+his companions. We cannot tell when the twenty miles to Gloucester were
+thrown behind them, but we know that the whole forty miles of going and
+coming were accomplished by sunrise the next morning. For the deposition
+tells us that Roger Skreene had become very impatient at the absence of
+his passengers,--at least, so he swears to the Council; and he began to
+think, just after the sun was up, that, as they had not returned, they
+must have got into a revel at the tavern, and forgotten themselves;
+which careless demeanor of theirs made him think of recrossing the river
+and of going ashore to beat them up; when, lo! all of a sudden, he spied
+a boat coming round the point within which he lay. And here arises a
+pleasant little dramatic scene, of some interest to our story.
+
+Mrs. Talbot had been up at the dawn, and watched upon the deck,
+straining her sight, until she could see no more for tears; and at
+length, unable to endure her emotion longer, had withdrawn to the cabin.
+Presently Skreene came hurrying down to tell her that the boat was
+coming,--and, what surprised him, there were _four_ persons in it. "Who
+is this fourth man?" he asked her,--with his habitual simplicity, "and
+how are we to get him back to the shore again?"--a very natural question
+for Roger to ask, after all that had passed in his presence! Mrs. Talbot
+sprang to her feet,--her eyes sparkling, as she exclaimed, with a cheery
+voice, "Oh, his cousin has come!"--and immediately ran upon the deck
+to await the approaching party. There were pleasant smiling faces all
+around, as the four men came over the sloop's side; and although the
+testimony is silent as to the fact, there might have been some little
+kissing on the occasion. The new-comer was in a rough dress, and had the
+exterior of a servant; and our skipper says in his testimony, that "Mrs.
+Talbot spoke to him in the Irish language": very volubly, I have no
+doubt, and that much was said that was never translated. When they
+came to a pause in this conversation, she told Skreene, by way of
+interpretation, "he need not be uneasy about the stranger's going on
+shore, nor delay any longer, as this person had made up his mind to go
+with them to Maryland."
+
+So the boat was made fast, the anchor was weighed, the sails were set,
+and the little sloop bent to the breeze and kissed the wave, as she
+rounded the headland and stood up the Bay, with Colonel George Talbot
+encircling with his arm his faithful wife, and with the gallant Cornet
+Murray sitting at his side.
+
+They had now an additional reason for caution against search. So Murray
+ordered the skipper to shape his course over to the eastern shore, and
+to keep in between the islands and the main. This is a broad circuit
+outside of their course; but Roger is promised a reward by Mrs. Talbot,
+to compensate him for his loss of time; and the skipper is very willing.
+They had fetched a compass, as the Scripture phrase is, to the shore of
+Dorset County, and steered inside of Hooper's Island, into the month of
+Hungary River. Here it was part of the scheme to dismiss the faithful
+Roger from further service. With this view they landed on the island and
+went to Mr. Hooper's house, where they procured a supply of provisions,
+and immediately afterwards reembarked,--having clean forgotten Roger,
+until they were once more under full sail up the Bay, and too far
+advanced to turn back!
+
+The deserted skipper bore his disappointment like a Christian; and being
+asked, on Hungary River, by a friend who met him there, and who gave his
+testimony before the Council, "What brought him there?" he replied, "He
+had been left on the island by Madam Talbot." And to another, "Where
+Madam Talbot was?" he answered, "She had gone up the Bay to her own
+house." Then, to a third question, "How he expected his pay?" he said,
+"He was to have it of Colonel Darnall and Major Sewall; and that Madam
+Talbot had promised him a hogshead of tobacco extra, for putting ashore
+at Hooper's Island." The last question was, "What news of Talbot?" and
+Roger's answer, "He had not been within twenty miles of him; neither did
+he know anything about the Colonel" !! But, on further discourse, he let
+fall, that "he knew the Colonel never would come to a trial,"--"that
+_he_ knew this; but neither man, woman, nor child should know it, but
+those who knew it already."
+
+So Colonel George Talbot is out of the hands of the proud Lord
+Effingham, and up the Bay with his wife and friends; and is buffeting
+the wintry head-winds in a long voyage to the Elk River, which, in due
+time, he reaches in safety.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+TROUBLES IN COUNCIL.
+
+
+Let us now turn back to see what is doing at St. Mary's.
+
+On the 17th of February comes to the Council a letter from Lord
+Effingham. It has the superscription, "These, with the greatest care and
+speed." It is dated on the 11th of February from Poropotanck, an Indian
+point on the York River above Gloucester, and memorable as being in the
+neighborhood of the spot where, some sixty years before these events,
+Pocahontas saved the life of that mirror of chivalry, Captain John
+Smith.
+
+The letter brings information "that last night [the 10th of February]
+Colonel Talbot escaped out of prison,"--a subsequent letter says, "by
+the corruption of his guard,"--and it is full of admonition, which has
+very much the tone of command, urging all strenuous efforts to recapture
+him, and particularly recommending a proclamation of "hue and cry."
+
+And now, for a month, there is a great parade in Maryland of
+proclamation, and hue and cry, and orders to sheriffs and county
+colonels to keep a sharp look-out everywhere for Talbot. But no person
+in the Province seems to be anxious to catch him, except Mr. Nehemiah
+Blakiston, the Collector, and a few others, who seem to have been
+ministering to Lord Effingham's spleen against the Council for not
+capturing him. His Lordship writes several letters of complaint at the
+delay and ill success of this pursuit, and some of them in no measured
+terms of courtesy. "I admire," he says in one of these, "at any slow
+proceedings in service wherein his Majesty is so concerned, and hope you
+will take off all occasions of future trouble, both unto me and you,
+of this nature, by manifesting yourselves zealous for his Majesty's
+service." They answer, that all imaginable care for the apprehending
+of Talbot has been taken by issuing proclamations, etc.,--but all have
+proved ineffectual, because Talbot upon all occasions flies and
+takes refuge "in the remotest parts of the woods and deserts of this
+Province."
+
+At this point we get some traces of Talbot. There is a deposition of
+Robert Kemble of Cecil County, and some other papers, that give us a few
+particulars by which I am enabled to construct my narrative.
+
+Colonel Talbot got to his own house about the middle of
+February,--nearly at the same time at which the news of his escape
+reached St. Mary's. He there lay warily watching the coming hue and cry
+for his apprehension. He collected his friends, armed them, and set them
+at watch and ward, at all his outposts. He had a disguise provided, in
+which he occasionally ventured abroad. Kemble met him, on the 19th of
+February, at George Oldfield's, on Elk River; and although the Colonel
+was disguised in a flaxen wig, and in other ways, Kemble says he knew
+him by hearing him cough in the night, in a room adjoining that in which
+Kemble slept. Whilst this witness was at Oldfield's, "Talbot's shallop,"
+he says, "was busking and turning before Oldfield's landing for several
+hours." The roads leading towards Talbot's house were all guarded by his
+friends, and he had a report made to him of every vessel that arrived in
+the river. By way of more permanent concealment, until the storm should
+blow over, he had made preparations to build himself a cabin, somewhere
+in the woods out of the range of the thoroughfares of the district. When
+driven by a pressing emergency which required more than ordinary care
+to prevent his apprehension, he betook himself to the cave on the
+Susquehanna, where, most probably, with a friend or two,--Cornet Murray
+I hope was one of them,--he lay perdu for a few days at a time, and
+then ventured back to speak a word of comfort and encouragement to the
+faithful wife who kept guard at home.
+
+In this disturbed and anxious alternation of concealment and flight
+Talbot passed the winter, until about the 25th of April, when, probably
+upon advice of friends, he voluntarily surrendered himself to the
+Council at St. Mary's, and was committed for trial in the provincial
+Court. The fact of the surrender was communicated to Lord Effingham by
+the Council, with a request that he would send the witnesses to Maryland
+to appear at his trial. Hereupon arose another correspondence with his
+Lordship, which is worthy of a moment's notice. Lord Effingham has lost
+nothing of his arrogance. He says, on the 12th of May, 1685, "I am so
+far from answering your desires, that I do hereby demand Colonel Talbot
+as my prisoner, in the King of England's name, and that you do forthwith
+convey him into Virginia. And to this my demand I expect your ready
+performance and compliance, upon your allegiance to his Majesty."
+
+I am happy to read the answer to this insolent letter, in which it will
+be seen that the spirit of Maryland was waked up on the occasion to its
+proper voice.--It is necessary to say, by way of explanation to one
+point in this answer, that the Governor of Virginia had received the
+news of the accession and proclamation of James the Second, and had not
+communicated it to the Council in Maryland. The Council give an answer
+at their leisure, having waited till the 1st of June, when they write
+to his Lordship, protesting against Virginia's exercising any
+superintendence over Maryland, and peremptorily refusing to deliver
+Talbot. They tell him "that we are desirous and conclude to await his
+Majesty's resolution, [in regard to the prisoner,] which we question not
+will be agreeable to his Lordship's Charter, and, consequently, contrary
+to your expectations. In the mean time we cannot but resent in some
+measure, for we are willing to let you see that we observe, the small
+notice you seem to take of this Government, (contrary to that amicable
+correspondence so often promised, and expected by us,) in not holding us
+worthy to be advised of his Majesty's being proclaimed, without which,
+certainly, we have not been enabled to do our duty in that particular.
+Such advice would have been gratefully received by your Excellency's
+humble servants." Thanks, Colonels Darnall and Digges and you other
+Colonels and Majors, for this plain outspeaking of the old Maryland
+heart against the arrogance of the "Right Honorable Lord Howard, Baron
+of Effingham, Captain General and Chief Governor of his Majesty's Colony
+of Virginia," as he styles himself! I am glad to see this change of
+tone, since that first letter of obsequious submission.
+
+Perhaps this change of tone may have had some connection with the recent
+change on the throne, in which the accession of a Catholic monarch may
+have given new courage to Maryland, and abated somewhat the confidence
+of Virginia. If so, it was but a transitory hope, born to a sad
+disappointment.
+
+The documents afford but little more information.
+
+Lord Baltimore, being in London, appears to have interceded with the
+King for some favor to Talbot, and writes to the Council on the third
+of July, "that it formerly was and still is the King's pleasure, that
+Talbot shall be brought over, in the Quaker Ketch, to England, to
+receive his trial there; and that, in order thereto, his Majesty had
+sent his commands to the Governor of Virginia to deliver him to
+Captain Allen, commander of said ketch, who is to bring him over." The
+Proprietary therefore directs his Council to send the prisoner to the
+Governor of Virginia, "to the end that his Majesty's pleasure may be
+fulfilled."
+
+This letter was received on the 7th of October, 1685, and Talbot was
+accordingly sent, under the charge of Gilbert Clarke and a proper guard,
+to Lord Effingham, who gives Clarke a regular business receipt, as if
+he had brought him a hogshead of tobacco, and appends to it a short
+apologetic explanation of his previous rudeness, which we may receive as
+another proof of his distrust of the favor of the new monarch. "I had
+not been so urgent," he says, "had I not had advices from England, last
+April, of the measures that were taken there concerning him."
+
+After this my chronicle is silent. We have no further tidings of Talbot.
+The only hint for a conjecture is the marginal note of "The Landholder's
+Assistant," got from Chalmers: "He was, I believe," says the note,
+"tried and convicted, and finally pardoned by James the Second." This is
+probably enough. For I suppose him to have been of the same family with
+that Earl of Tyrconnel equally distinguished for his influence with
+James the Second as for his infamous life and character, who held at
+this period unbounded sway at the English Court. I hope, for the honor
+of our hero, that he preserved no family-likeness to that false-hearted,
+brutal, and violent favorite, who is made immortal in Macaulay's pages
+as Lying Dick Talbot. Through his intercession his kinsman may have been
+pardoned, or even never brought to trial.
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+
+This is the end of my story. But, like all stories, it requires that
+some satisfaction should be given to the reader in regard to the
+dramatic proprieties. We have our several heroes to dispose of. Phelim
+Murray and Hugh Riley, who had both been arrested by the Council to
+satisfy public opinion as to their complicity in the plot for the
+escape, were both honorably discharged,--I suppose being found entirely
+innocent! Roger Skreene swore himself black and blue, as the phrase is,
+that he had not the least suspicion of the business in which he was
+engaged; and so he was acquitted! I am also glad to be able to say that
+our gallant Cornet Murray, in the winding-up of this business, was
+promoted by the Council to a captaincy of cavalry, and put in command of
+Christiana Fort and its neighborhood, to keep that formidable Quaker,
+William Penn, at a respectful distance. It would gratify me still more,
+if I could find warrant to add, that the Cornet enjoyed himself, and
+married the lady of his choice, with whom he has, unknown to us, been
+violently in love during these adventures, and that they lived happily
+together for many years. I hope this was so,--although the chronicle
+does not allow one to affirm it,--it being but a proper conclusion to
+such a romance as I have plucked out of our history.
+
+And so I have traced the tradition of the Cave to the end. What I have
+been able to certify furnishes the means of a shrewd estimate of the
+average amount of truth which popular traditions generally contain.
+There is always a fact at the bottom, lying under a superstructure of
+fiction,--truth enough to make the pursuit worth following. Talbot did
+not live in the Cave, but fled there occasionally for concealment. He
+had no hawks with him, but bred them in his own mews on the Elk River.
+The birds seen in after times were some of this stock, and not the
+solitary pair they were supposed to be. I dare say an expert naturalist
+would find many specimens of the same breed now in that region. But let
+us not be too critical on the tradition, which has led us into a quest
+through which I have been able to supply what I hope will be found to be
+a pleasant insight into that little world of action and passion,--with
+its people, its pursuits, and its gossips,--that, more than one hundred
+and seventy years ago, inhabited the beautiful banks of St. Mary's
+River, and wove the web of our early Maryland history.
+
+
+POSTSCRIPT.
+
+
+I have another link in the chain of Talbot's history, furnished me by a
+friend in Virginia. It comes since I have completed my narrative, and
+very accurately confirms the conjecture of Chalmers, quoted in the note
+of "The Landholder's Assistant." "As for Colonel Talbot, he was conveyed
+for trial to Virginia, from whence he made his escape, and, after being
+retaken, and, _I believe_, tried and convicted, was finally pardoned by
+King James II." This is an extract from the note. It is now ascertained
+that Talbot was not taken to England for trial, as Lord Baltimore, in
+his letter of the 6th of July, 1685, affirmed it was the King's pleasure
+he should be; but that he was tried and convicted in Virginia on the 22d
+of April, 1686, and, on the 26th of the same month, reprieved by order
+of the King; after which we may presume he received a full pardon, and
+perhaps was taken to England in obedience to the royal command, to await
+it there. The conviction and reprieve are recorded in a folio of the
+State Records of Virginia at Richmond, on a mutilated and scarcely
+legible sheet,--a copy of which I present to my reader with all its
+obliterations and broken syllables and sad gashes in the text, for his
+own deciphering. The MS. is in keeping with the whole story, and may be
+looked upon as its appropriate emblem. The story has been brought to
+light by chance, and has been rendered intelligible by close study and
+interpretation of fragmentary and widely separated facts, capable of
+being read only by one conversant with the text of human affairs, and
+who has the patience to grope through the trackless intervals of time,
+and the skill to supply the lost words and syllables of history by
+careful collation with those which are spared. How faithfully this
+accidentally found MS. typifies such a labor, the reader may judge from
+the literal copy of it I now offer to his perusal.
+
+[Transcriber's note: Gaps in the text below are signified with an
+asterisk.]
+
+ By his Excellency
+
+ Whereas his most Sacred Majesty has been Graciously pleased
+ by his Royall Com'ands to Direct and Com'and Me ffrancis
+ Lord Howard of Effingham his Maj'ties Lieut and Gov'r. Gen'll.
+ of Virginia that if George Talbott Esq'r. upon his Tryall should
+ be found Guilty of Killing M'r Christopher Rowsby, that Execution
+ should be suspended untill his Majesties pleasure should
+ be further signified unto Me; And forasmuch as the sd George
+ Talbott was Indicted upon the Statute of Stabbing and hath
+ Received a full and Legall Tryall in open Court on y'e Twentieth
+ and One and Twentieth dayes of this Instant Aprill, before his
+ Majesties Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and found Guilty of y'e
+ aforesaid fact and condemned for the Same, I, therefore, *ffrancis
+ Lord Howard, Baron of *ffingham, his Majesties Lieu't and Gov'r.
+ Gen'll. Of Virginia, by Virtue of *aj'ties Royall Com'ands
+ to Me given there * doe hereby Suspend *tion of the
+ Sentence of death * his Maj'ties Justices
+ * Terminer on the * till his Majesties
+ *erein be * nor any
+ * fail as yo* uttmost
+ * and for y'r soe doing this sh*
+
+ Given under my and * Seale
+
+ the 26th dayof Apri*
+
+ EFFINGHAM
+
+ To his Majesties Justices
+ of Oyer and Terminer.
+
+ Recordatur E Chillon Gen'l Car*
+
+ [Endorsed]
+
+ Talbott's Repreif
+ from L'd Howard
+ 1686 for Killing Ch'r. Rousby
+ Examined Sept. 24th
+ 26th Aprill 1686
+ Sentence of
+ ag'* Col Ta
+ Suspended
+ Aprill 26* 1*86
+
+
+
+
+PRINCE ADEB.
+
+
+ In Sana, oh, in Sana, God, the Lord,
+ Was very kind and merciful to me!
+ Forth from the Desert in my rags I came,
+ Weary and sore of foot. I saw the spires
+ And swelling bubbles of the golden domes
+ Rise through the trees of Sana, and my heart
+ Grew great within me with the strength of God;
+ And I cried out, "Now shall I right myself,--
+ I, Adeb the Despised,--for God is just!"
+ There he who wronged my father dwelt in peace,--
+ My warlike father, who, when gray hairs crept
+ Around his forehead, as on Lebanon
+ The whitening snows of winter, was betrayed
+ To the sly Imam, and his tented wealth
+ Swept from him, 'twixt the roosting of the cock
+ And his first crowing,--in a single night:
+ And I, poor Adeb, sole of all my race,
+ Smeared with my father's and my kinsmen's blood,
+ Fled through the Desert, till one day a tribe
+ Of hungry Bedouins found me in the sand,
+ Half mad with famine, and they took me up,
+ And made a slave of me,--of me, a prince!
+ All was fulfilled at last. I fled from them,
+ In rags and sorrow. Nothing but my heart,
+ Like a strong swimmer, bore me up against
+ The howling sea of my adversity.
+ At length o'er Sana, in the act to swoop,
+ I stood like a young eagle on a crag.
+ The traveller passed me with suspicious fear:
+ I asked for nothing; I was not a thief.
+ The lean dogs snuffed around me: my lank bones,
+ Fed on the berries and the crusted pools,
+ Were a scant morsel. Once, a brown-skinned girl
+ Called me a little from the common path,
+ And gave me figs and barley in a bag.
+ I paid her with a kiss, with nothing more,
+ And she looked glad; for I was beautiful,
+ And virgin as a fountain, and as cold.
+ I stretched her bounty, pecking, like a bird,
+ Her figs and barley, till my strength returned.
+ So when rich Sana lay beneath my eyes,
+ My foot was as the leopard's, and my hand
+ As heavy as the lion's brandished paw;
+ And underneath my burnished skin the veins
+ And stretching muscles played, at every step,
+ In wondrous motion. I was very strong.
+ I looked upon my body, as a bird
+ That bills his feathers ere he takes to flight,--
+ I, watching over Sana. Then I prayed;
+ And on a soft stone, wetted in the brook,
+ Ground my long knife; and then I prayed again.
+ God heard my voice, preparing all for me,
+ As, softly stepping down the hills,
+ I saw the Imam's summer-palace all ablaze
+ In the last flash of sunset. Every fount
+ Was spouting fire, and all the orange-trees
+ Bore blazing coals, and from the marble walls
+ And gilded spires and columns, strangely wrought,
+ Glared the red light, until my eyes were pained
+ With the fierce splendor. Till the night grew thick,
+ I lay within the bushes, next the door,
+ Still as a serpent, as invisible.
+ The guard hung round the portal. Man by man
+ They dropped away, save one lone sentinel,
+ And on his eyes God's finger lightly fell;
+ He slept half standing. Like a summer wind
+ That threads the grove, yet never turns a leaf,
+ I stole from shadow unto shadow forth;
+ Crossed all the marble court-yard, swung the door,
+ Like a soft gust, a little way ajar,--
+ My body's narrow width, no more,--and stood
+ Beneath the cresset in the painted hall.
+ I marvelled at the riches of my foe;
+ I marvelled at God's ways with wicked men.
+ Then I reached forth, and took God's waiting hand:
+ And so He led me over mossy floors,
+ Flowered with the silken summer of Shirar,
+ Straight to the Imam's chamber. At the door
+ Stretched a brawn eunuch, blacker than my eyes:
+ His woolly head lay like the Kaba-stone
+ In Mecca's mosque, as silent and as huge.
+ I stepped across it, with my pointed knife
+ Just missing a full vein along his neck,
+ And, pushing by the curtains, there I was,--
+ I, Adeb the Despised,--upon the spot
+ That, next to heaven, I longed for most of all.
+ I could have shouted for the joy in me.
+ Fierce pangs and flashes of bewildering light
+ Leaped through my brain and danced before my eyes.
+ So loud my heart beat that I feared its sound
+ Would wake the sleeper; and the bubbling blood
+ Choked in my throat, till, weaker than a child,
+ I reeled against a column, and there hung
+ In a blind stupor. Then I prayed again;
+ And, sense by sense, I was made whole once more.
+ I touched myself; I was the same; I knew
+ Myself to be lone Adeb, young and strong,
+ With nothing but a stride of empty air
+ Between me and God's justice. In a sleep,
+ Thick with the fumes of the accursed grape,
+ Sprawled the false Imam. On his shaggy breast,
+ Like a white lily heaving on the tide
+ Of some foul stream, the fairest woman slept
+ These roving eyes have ever looked upon.
+ Almost a child, her bosom barely showed
+ The change beyond her girlhood. All her charms
+ Were budding, but half opened; for I saw
+ Not only beauty wondrous in itself,
+ But possibility of more to be
+ In the full process of her blooming days.
+ I gazed upon her, and my heart grew soft,
+ As a parched pasture with the dew of heaven.
+ While thus I gazed, she smiled, and slowly raised
+ The long curve of her lashes; and we looked
+ Each upon each in wonder, not alarm,--
+ Not eye to eye, but soul to soul, we held
+ Each other for a moment. All her life
+ Seemed centred in the circle of her eyes.
+ She stirred no limb; her long-drawn, equal breath
+ Swelled out and ebbed away beneath her breast,
+ In calm unbroken. Not a sign of fear
+ Touched the faint color on her oval cheek,
+ Or pinched the arches of her tender mouth.
+ She took me for a vision, and she lay
+ With her sleep's smile unaltered, as in doubt
+ Whether real life had stolen into her dreams,
+ Or dreaming stretched into her outer life.
+ I was not graceless to a woman's eyes.
+ The girls of Damar paused to see me pass,
+ I walking in my rags, yet beautiful.
+ One maiden said, "He has a prince's air!"
+ I am a prince; the air was all my own.
+ So thought the lily on the Imam's breast;
+ And lightly as a summer mist, that lifts
+ Before the morning, so she floated up,
+ Without a sound or rustle of a robe,
+ From her coarse pillow, and before me stood
+ With asking eyes. The Imam never moved.
+ A stride and blow were all my need, and they
+ Were wholly in my power. I took her hand,
+ I held a warning finger to my lips,
+ And whispered in her small expectant ear,
+ "Adeb, the son of Akem!" She replied
+ In a low murmur, whose bewildering sound
+ Almost lulled wakeful me to sleep, and sealed
+ The sleeper's lids in tenfold slumber, "Prince,
+ Lord of the Imam's life and of my heart,
+ Take all thou seest,--it is thy right, I know,--
+ But spare the Imam for thy own soul's sake!"
+ Then I arrayed me in a robe of state,
+ Shining with gold and jewels; and I bound
+ In my long turban gems that might have bought
+ The lands 'twixt Babelmandeb and Sahan.
+ I girt about me, with a blazing belt,
+ A scimitar o'er which the sweating smiths
+ In far Damascus hammered for long years,
+ Whose hilt and scabbard shot a trembling light
+ From diamonds and rubies. And she smiled,
+ As piece by piece I put the treasures on,
+ To see me look so fair,--in pride she smiled.
+ I hung long purses at my side. I scooped,
+ From off a table, figs and dates and rice,
+ And bound them to my girdle in a sack.
+ Then over all I flung a snowy cloak,
+ And beckoned to the maiden. So she stole
+ Forth like my shadow, past the sleeping wolf
+ Who wronged my father, o'er the woolly head
+ Of the swart eunuch, down the painted court,
+ And by the sentinel who standing slept.
+ Strongly against the portal, through my rags,--
+ My old, base rags,--and through the maiden's veil,
+ I pressed my knife,--upon the wooden hilt
+ Was "Adeb, son of Akem," carved by me
+ In my long slavehood,--as a passing sign
+ To wait the Imam's waking. Shadows cast
+ From two high-sailing clouds upon the sand
+ Passed not more noiseless than we two, as one,
+ Glided beneath the moonlight, till I smelt
+ The fragrance of the stables. As I slid
+ The wide doors open, with a sudden bound
+ Uprose the startled horses; but they stood
+ Still as the man who in a foreign land
+ Hears his strange language, when my Desert call,
+ As low and plaintive as the nested dove's,
+ Fell on their listening ears. From stall to stall,
+ Feeling the horses with my groping hands,
+ I crept in darkness; and at length I came
+ Upon two sister mares, whose rounded sides,
+ Fine muzzles, and small heads, and pointed ears,
+ And foreheads spreading 'twixt their eyelids wide,
+ Long slender tails, thin manes, and coats of silk,
+ Told me, that, of the hundred steeds there stalled,
+ My hand was on the treasures. O'er and o'er
+ I felt their long joints, and down their legs
+ To the cool hoofs;--no blemish anywhere:
+ These I led forth and saddled. Upon one
+ I set the lily, gathered now for me,--
+ My own, henceforth, forever. So we rode
+ Across the grass, beside the stony path,
+ Until we gained the highway that is lost,
+ Leading from Sana, in the eastern sands:
+ When, with a cry that both the Desert-born
+ Knew without hint from whip or goading spur,
+ We dashed into a gallop. Far behind
+ In sparks and smoke the dusty highway rose;
+ And ever on the maiden's face I saw,
+ When the moon flashed upon it, the strange smile
+ It wore on waking. Once I kissed her mouth,
+ When she grew weary, and her strength returned.
+ All through the night we scoured between the hills:
+ The moon went down behind us, and the stars
+ Dropped after her; but long before I saw
+ A planet blazing straight against our eyes,
+ The road had softened, and the shadowy hills
+ Had flattened out, and I could hear the hiss
+ Of sand spurned backward by the flying mares.--
+ Glory to God! I was at home again!
+ The sun rose on us; far and near I saw
+ The level Desert; sky met sand all round.
+ We paused at midday by a palm-crowned well,
+ And ate and slumbered. Somewhat, too, was said:
+ The words have slipped my memory. That same eve
+ We rode sedately through a Hamoum camp,--
+ I, Adeb, prince amongst them, and my bride.
+ And ever since amongst them I have ridden,
+ A head and shoulders taller than the best;
+ And ever since my days have been of gold,
+ My nights have been of silver.--God is just!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+ELEUSINIA.[a]
+
+[Footnote a: See Number XXIII., September, 1859.]
+
+
+THE SAVIOURS OF GREECE.
+
+Life, in its central idea, is an entire and eternal solitude. Yet each
+individual nature so repeats--and is itself repeated in--every other,
+that there is insured the possibility both of a world-revelation in the
+soul, and of a self-incarnation in the world; so that every man's life,
+like Agrippa's mirror, reflects the universe, and the universe is made
+the embodiment of his life,--is made to beat with a human pulse.
+
+We do all, therefore,--Hindu, Egyptian, Greek, or Saxon,--claim kinship
+both with the earth and the heavens: with the sense of sorrow we kneel
+upon the earth, with the sense of hope we look into the heavens.
+
+The two Presences of the Eleusinia,--the earthly Demeter,[b] the
+embodiment of human sorrow, and the heavenly Dionysus,[c] the
+incarnation of human hope,--these are the two Great Presences of the
+Universe; about whom, as separate centres,--the one of measureless
+wanderings, the other of triumphant rest,--we marshal, both in the
+interpretations of Reason and in the constructions of our Imagination,
+all that is visible or that is invisible,--whatsoever is palpable in
+sense or possible in idea, in the world which is or the world to come.
+Incarnations of the life within us, in its two developments of Sorrow
+and Hope,--they are also the centres through which this life develops
+itself in the world: it is through them that all things have their
+genesis from the human heart, and through them, therefore, that all
+things are unveiled to us.
+
+[Footnote b: Demeter is [Greek Gae-mhaetaer], Mother Earth.]
+
+[Footnote c: The same as Iacchus and the Latin Bacchus.]
+
+But these Two Presences have their highest interest and significance as
+_foci_ of the religious development of the race: and inasmuch as all
+growth is ultimately a religious one, it is in this phase that their
+organic connections with life are widest and most profound. As such they
+appear in the Eleusinia; and in all mythology they furnish the only
+possible key for the interpretation of its mystic symbolism, its
+hieroglyphic records, and its ill-defined traditions.
+
+Accordingly we find that all mythology naturally and inevitably
+flows about these centres into two distinct developments, which are
+indicated,--
+
+1. In Nature; inasmuch as they are first made manifest through symbols
+which point to the two great forces, the _active_ and the _passive_,
+which are concerned in all natural processes (_sol et terra subjacens
+soli_); and,
+
+2. In the primitive belief among all nations, that men are the offspring
+of the earth and the heavens,--and in the worship equally prevalent of
+the sun, the personal Presence of the heavens, as Saviour Lord, and of
+the earth as sorrowing Lady and Mother.
+
+Why the earth, in this primitive symbolism and worship, was represented
+as the Sorrowing One, and the sun as Saviour, is evident at a glance.
+It was the bosom of the earth which was shaken with storm and rent with
+earthquake. She was the Mother, and hers was the travail of all birth;
+in sorrow she forever gathered to herself her Fate-conquered children;
+her sorrowful countenance she veiled in thick mists, and, year after
+year, shrouded herself in wintry desolation: while he was the Eternal
+Father, the Revealer of all things, he drove away the darkness, and in
+his presence the mist became an invisible exhalation; and, as out of
+darkness and death, he called into birth the flowers and the numberless
+forests,--even as he himself was every morning born anew out of
+darkness,--so he called the children of the earth to a glorious rising
+in his light. Everything of the earth was inert, weighing heavily upon
+the sense and the heart, only waiting its transfiguration and exaltation
+through his power, until it should rise into the heavens; which was the
+type of his translation to himself of his grief-oppressed children.
+
+Under these symbols our Lord and Lady have been worshipped by an
+overwhelming majority of the human race. They swayed the ancient world,
+from the Indians by the Ganges, and the Tartar tribes, to the Britons
+and Laplanders of Northwestern Europe,--having their representatives in
+every system of faith,--in the Hindu _Isi and Isana_, the Egyptian _Isis
+and Osiris_, the Assyrian _Venus and Adonis_, the _Demeter and Dionysus_
+of Greece, the Roman _Ceres and Bacchus_, and the _Disa and Frey_ of
+Scandinavia,--in connection with most, if not all, of whom there existed
+festivals corresponding, in respect of their meaning and use, with the
+Grecian Eleusinia.
+
+Moreover, the various divinities of any one mythology--for example, the
+Greek--were at first only representatives of partial attributes or
+incidental functions of these Two Presences. Thus, Jove was the power of
+the heavens, which, of course, centred in the sun; Apollo is admitted
+to have been only another name for the sun; Æsculapius represents his
+healing virtues; Hercules his saving strength; and Prometheus, who gave
+fire to men, as Vulcan, the god of fire, was probably connected with
+Eastern fire-worship, and so in the end with the worship of the sun.
+Some of the goddesses come under the same category,--such as Juno,
+sister and wife of Jove, who shared with him his aerial dynasty; as also
+Diana, who was only the reflection of Apollo,[d] as the moon of the sun,
+carrying his power on into the night, and exercising among women the
+functions which he exercised among men. The representatives of our Lady,
+on the other hand, are such as the ancient Rhea,--Latona, with her dark
+and starry veil,--Tethys, the world-nurse,--and the Artemis of the East,
+or Syrian Mother; to say nothing of Oreads, Dryads, and Nereids, that
+without number peopled the mountains, the forests, and the sea.
+
+[Footnote d: This connection of Diana with Apollo has led some to the
+hasty inference, that the sun and moon--not the sun and earth--were the
+primitive centres of mythological symbolism. But it is plain that the
+sun and moon, as _active _forces referable to a single centre, stood
+over against the earth as _passive._]
+
+The confusion of ancient mythology did not so much regard its subjective
+elements as its external development, and even here is easily accounted
+for by the mingling of tribes and nations, hitherto isolated in their
+growth,--but who, as they came together, in their mutual recognition of
+a common faith under different names and rites, must inevitably have
+introduced disorder into the external symbolism. But even out of this
+confusion we shall find the whole Pantheon organized about two
+central shrines,--those of the _Mater Dolorosa_ and the _Dominus
+Salvator_,--which are represented also in Christendom, though detached
+from natural symbols, in the connection of Christianity with the worship
+of the Virgin.
+
+The Eleusinia, collecting together, as it did, all the prominent
+elements of mythology, furnishes, in its dramatic evolution through
+Demeter and Dionysus, the highest and most complete representation of
+ancient faith in both of its developments. In a former paper, we have
+endeavored to give this drama its deepest interpretation by pointing to
+the human heart as the central source of all its movements. We shall now
+ask our readers to follow us out into these movements themselves,--that,
+as before we saw how the world is centred in each human soul, we may now
+see how each soul develops itself in the world; for thither it is that
+the ever-widening cycles of the Eleusinian epos will inevitably lead us.
+
+And first as an epos of sorrow: though centring in the earthly Demeter,
+yet its movement does not limit itself by the remembrance of _her_ nine
+days' search; but, in the torch-light procession of the fifth night,
+widens indefinitely and mysteriously in the darkness, until it has
+inclosed all hearts within the circuit of its tumultuous flight. Thus,
+by some secret sympathy with her movements, are gathered together
+about the central Achtheia all the _Matres Dolorosoe,_--our Ladies of
+Sorrow;--for, like her, they were all wanderers.
+
+They were so by necessity. All unrest involves loss, and thus leads to
+search. It matters not if the search be unsuccessful; though the gadfly
+sting as sharply the next moment as it did the last, still so must
+continue her wanderings. Therefore that Jew, whose mythic fate it is to
+wait forever upon the earth, the victim of an everlasting sorrow, is
+also an everlasting wanderer. All suffering necessitates movement,--and
+when the suffering is intense, the movement passes over into flight.
+
+Therefore it is that the epos of suffering requires not merely time for
+its accomplishment, but also space. Ulysses, the "much-suffering," is
+also the "much-wandering."
+
+Thus our Lady in the Eleusinian procession of search represents the
+restless search of all her children.
+
+Migrations and colonizations, ancient or modern,--what were they but
+flights from some phase of suffering,--name it as we may,--poverty,
+oppression, or slavery? It was the same suffering Io who brought
+civilization to the banks of the Nile.
+
+Thus, from the very beginnings of history or human tradition, out of
+the severities of Scythian deserts there has been an endless series of
+flights,--nomadic invasions of tribes impelled by no merely barbarian
+impulse, but by some deep sense of suffering, flying from their Northern
+wastes to the happy gardens of the South. In no other way can you
+account for these movements. If you attribute them to ferocity, what
+was it that engendered and nourished _that_? Call them the results of
+a Divine Providence, seeking by a fresher current of life to revive
+systems of civilization which through long ages of luxury have come to
+frailty,--still it was through this severity of discipline alone that
+Providence accomplished its end. Besides, these nomads were fully
+conscious of their bitter lot; and those who fled not in space fled at
+least in their dreams,--waiting for death at last to introduce them to
+inexhaustible hunting-grounds in their happy Elysium.
+
+The very mention of Rome suggests the same continually repeated series
+of antecedent tragedy and consequent wandering,--pointing backward to
+the fabled siege of Troy and the flight of Aeneas,--"_profugus_"
+from Asia to Italy,--and forward to the quick-coming footsteps of the
+Northern _profugi_, who were eager, even this side the grave, to enter
+the Valhalla of their dreams.
+
+It is said that the Phoenician cities sent out colonies from a desire of
+gain, and because they were crowded at home. It is said, too, that,
+in search of gold, thousands upon thousands went to El Dorado, to
+California, and Australia; but who does not know that the greater part
+of these thousands left their homes for reasons which, if fully exposed,
+would reveal a tragedy in view of which gold appears a glittering
+mockery?
+
+The great movement of the race westward is but an extension of this
+epic flight. Thus, the Pilgrim Fathers of New England,--the grandest
+_profugi_ of all time,--or even the bold adventurers of Spain, would
+have been moved only by intense suffering, in some form, to exchange
+their homes for a wilderness.
+
+The world is full of these wanderings, under various pretences of gain,
+adventure, or curiosity, hiding the real impulse of flight. So with the
+strong-flowing current in the streets of a great city; for how else
+shall we interpret this intricate net-work of human feature and
+movement,--this flux of life toward some troubled centre, and then its
+reflux toward some uncertain and undefined circumference?
+
+And as Nature is the mirror of human life, so at the source of those
+vast movements by which she buries in oblivion her own works and the
+works of man there is hidden the type of human suffering, both for the
+race and the individual. And hence it is, that, over against the eternal
+solitude within us, there ever waits without us a second solitude, into
+which, sooner or later, we pass with restless flight,--a solitude
+vast, shadowy, and unfamiliar in its outline, but inevitable in its
+reality,--haunting, bewildering, overshadowing us!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Who is it that shall interpret this intricate evolution of human
+footsteps, in its meaning of sorrow?--who is it that shall give us
+rest?" Such is the half-conscious prayer of all these fugitives,--of
+our Lady and all her children. This it is which gives meaning to the
+torch-light procession on the fifth night of the Festival; but to-morrow
+it shall find an answer in the Saviour Dionysus, who shall change the
+flight of search into the pomp of triumph.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+But let us pause a moment. It is Palm Sunday! We are not, indeed, in
+Syria, the land of palms. Yet, even here,--lost in some far-reaching
+avenue of pines, where one could hardly walk upon a summer Sunday
+without such sense of joy as would move him to tears,--even here all the
+movements of the earth and the heavens hint of most jubilant triumph.
+Thus, the green grass rises above the dead grass at our feet; the
+leaf-buds new-born upon the tree, like lotos-buds springing up from
+Ethiopian marble, give token of resurrection; the trees themselves tower
+heavenward; and in victorious ascension the clouds unite in the vast
+procession, dissolving in exhalation at the "gates of the sun"; while
+from unnumbered choirs arise songs of exultant victory from the hearts
+of men to the throne of God!
+
+But whither, in divine remembrance,--whither is it that upon this Sunday
+of all Sundays the thoughts of Christendom point? Back through eighteen
+hundred years to the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, followed
+by the children crying, "Hosanna in the highest heavens!" Of this it is
+that the processions of Nature, in the resurrections of birth and the
+aërial ascension of clouds,--of this that the upward processions of our
+thoughts are commemorative!
+
+Thus was the sixth day of the Eleusinia,--when the ivy-crowned Dionysus
+was borne in triumph through the mystic entrance of Eleusis, and from
+the Eleusinian plains, as from our choirs to-day, ascended the jubilant
+Hosannas of the countless multitude;--this was the Palm Sunday of
+Greece.
+
+Close upon the chariot-wheels of the Saviour Dionysus followed, in
+the faith of Greece, Aesculapius and Hercules: the former the Divine
+Physician, whose very name was healing, and who had power over death,
+as the child of the Sun; and the latter, who by his saving strength
+delivered the earth from its Augean impurities, and, arrayed in
+celestial panoply, subdued the monsters of the earth, and at last,
+descending to Hades, slew the three-headed Cerberus and took away from
+men much of the fear of death. Such was the train of the Eleusinian
+Dionysus. If Demeter was the wanderer, he was the conqueror and centre
+of all triumph.
+
+And this reminds us of his Indian conquest. What did it mean? Admit that
+it may have been only the fabulous march in triumph of some forgotten
+king of mortal birth to the farthest limits of the East. Still the fact
+of its association with Dionysus stands as evidence of the connection of
+human faith with human victory. Let it be that Dionysus himself was only
+the apotheosis of victorious humanity. In strict logic this is more than
+probable. Yet why apotheosize conquerors at all? Why exalt all heroes to
+the rank of gods?
+
+The reason is, that men are unwilling to draw a limited meaning from any
+human act. How could they, then, connecting, as they did, all victory
+with hope,--how could they fall short of the most exalted hope, of the
+most excellent victory; especially in instances like the one now under
+our notice, where the material circumstances of the conquest as well
+as of the conqueror's life have passed out of remembrance; when for
+generations men have dwelt upon the dim tradition in their thoughts, and
+it has had time to grow into its fullest significance,--even finding
+an elaborate expression in sacred writings, in symbolic ritual, and
+monumental entablature? Osiris, who subjected men to his reign of peace,
+was also held to be the Preserver of their souls. Even Caesar, had he
+lived two thousand years before, might have been worshipped as Saviour.
+All extended power, measured by duration in time or vast areas of space,
+becomes an incarnate Presence in the world, which awes to the dust
+all who resist it, and exalts with its own glory all who trust in it.
+Achtheia mourns all failures; and here it is that the human touches the
+earth. But they who conquer, these are our Saviours; they shall follow
+in the train of Dionysus; they shall lift us to the heavens, and
+sanctify in our remembrance the Sunday of Palms!
+
+But Dionysus not only looks back with triumphant remembrance to ancient
+conquest, but has his victories in the present, also, and in the great
+Hereafter. For triumph was connected with all Dionysiac symbols, hints
+of which are preserved to us in representations found upon ancient
+vases: such, for instance, as the figure of Victory surmounting the
+heads of the ivy-crowned Bacchantes in their mystic orgies; or the
+winged serpents which bear the chariot of the victor-god,--as if in
+this connection even the reptiles, whose very name (_serpentes_) is
+a synonyme for what creeps, are to be made the ministrants of his
+conquering flight. The tombs of the ancients from Egypt to Etruria are
+full of these symbols. Many of them have become dim as to their meaning
+by oblivious time; but enough is evident to indicate the prominence
+of hope in ancient faith. This appears in the very multiplicity of
+Dionysiac symbols as compared with any other class. Thus, out of
+sixty-six vases at Polignano, all but one or two were found to be
+Dionysiac in their symbolism. And this instance stands for many others.
+The _character_ of the scenes represented indicates the same prominence
+of hope, sometimes as connected with the relations of life,--as, for
+example, the representation, found upon a sepulchral cone, of a husband
+and wife uniting with each other in prayer to the Sun. Frequent
+inscriptions--such as those in which the deceased is carefully committed
+to Osiris, the Egyptian Dionysus--point in the same direction; as
+also the genii who presided over the embalmed dead, a belief in whose
+existence surely indicated a hopeful trust in some divine care which
+would not leave them even in the grave. Statues of Osiris are found
+among the ruins of palaces and temples; but it was in the monuments
+associated with death that they dwelt most upon his name and expressed
+their faith in most frequent incarnation and inscription.
+
+The epic movement of Eleusinian triumph was in its range as unlimited
+as the movement of sorrow. Each found expression in sculptured
+monument,--the one hinting of flight into darkness, and the other of
+resurrection into light; each in its cycle inclosed the world; each
+widened into the invisible; as the wail of Achtheia reached the heart of
+Hades, so the paean of Dionysus was lost in the heavens.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+But in what manner did this Dionysus make his _avatar_ in the world? For
+he must needs have first touched the earth as human child, ere he could
+be worshipped as Divine Saviour. Latona must leave the heavens and come
+to Delos ere she can give birth to Apollo; for, in order to slay the
+serpent, the child must himself be earth-born,--indeed, according to one
+representation, he slew the Python out of his mother's arms. Neither the
+serpent of Genesis nor the dragon of Revelation can be conquered save
+by the seed of the woman. From this necessity of his earthly birth,
+the connection of the Saviour-Child with the _Mater Dolorosa_ becomes
+universal,--finding its counterpart in the Assyrian Venus with babe in
+arm, in Isis suckling the child Horus, and even in the Scandinavian Disa
+at Upsal accompanied by an infant. It is from swaddling-clothes, as the
+nursling of our Lady, and out of the sorrowful discipline of earth, that
+the child grows to be the Saviour, both for our Lady and for all her
+children.
+
+Hence, according to the tradition, Dionysus was born of Semele of the
+royal house at Thebes; and Jove was his father. A little before his time
+of birth,--so the story goes,--Jove visited Semele, at her own rash
+request, in all the majesty of his presence, with thunderings and
+lightnings, so that the bower of the virgin mother was laid in ruins,
+and she herself, unable to stand before the revealed god, was consumed
+as by fire. But Jove out of her ashes perfected the birth of his son;
+whence he was called the Child of Fire, ([Greek: puripais],)--which
+epithet, as well as this part of the fable, probably points to his
+connection with the Oriental symbolism of fire in the worship of the
+Sun.
+
+And it is worth while, in connection with this, to notice the gradations
+by which in the ancient mind everything ascended from the gross material
+to a refined spirituality. As in Nature there was forever going on a
+subtilizing process, so that
+
+ "from the root
+ Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves
+ More aëry, last the bright consummate flower
+ Spirits odorous breathes,"--
+
+and as, in their philosophy, from the earth, as the principle of Nature,
+they ascended through the more subtile elements of water, air, and fire,
+to a spiritual conception of the universe; so, as regards their
+faith, its highest incarnation was through the symbolism of fire, as
+representative of that central Power under whose influence all things
+arose through endless grades of exaltation to Himself,--so that the
+earthly rose into the heavenly, and all that was human became divine.
+
+The enthusiasm of victory and exaltation in the worship of Dionysus
+tended of course to connect with him whatsoever was joyous and jubilant
+in life. He was the god of all joy. Hence the fable which makes him the
+author and giver of wine to men. Wherever he goes, he is surrounded by
+the clustering vine and ivy, hinting of his summer glory and of his
+kingly crown. Thus, the line of his conquests leads through the richest
+fields of Southern Asia,--through the incense-breathing Arabia, across
+the Euphrates and the Tigris, and through the flowery vales of Cashmere
+to the Indian garden of the world: and as from sea to sea he establishes
+his reign by bloodless victories, he is attended by Fauns and Satyrs and
+the jovial Pan; wine and honey are his gifts; and all the earth is glad
+in his gracious presence. Hence he was ever associated with Oriental
+luxuriance, and was worshipped even among the Greeks with a large
+infusion of Oriental extravagance, though tempered by the more subdued
+mood of the West.
+
+But that depth of Grecian genius, which made it possible for Greece
+alone of all ancient nations to develop tragedy to anything like
+perfection, insured also even in the most impassioned life the most
+profound solemnity. Into the praises of Apollo, joyous as they
+were,--where, to the exultant anthem was joined the evolution of the
+dance beneath the vaulted sky, as if in his very presence,--for the sun
+was his shechinah,--there enters an element of solemnity, which, in
+certain connections, is almost overwhelming: as, for instance, in the
+first book of the "Iliad,"--where, after the pestilence which has sent
+up an endless series of funeral pyres,--after the strife of heroes
+and the return of Chryseïs to her father, the priest of the angry
+Apollo,--after the feast and the libation from the wine-crowned cups,
+there follow the _apotropoea_, and the Grecian youths unite in the
+song and the dance, which last, both the joyous paean and the tread of
+exultant feet, until the setting sun. I know of nothing which to
+an equal degree suggests this element of solemnity, that is almost
+awe-inspiring from its depth, short of the jubilant procession of
+saints, in the Apocalypse, with palms in their hands.
+
+This element is also evident in the worship of Dionysus,--so that the
+inspiration of joy must not be taken for the frenzy of intoxication,
+though the symbol of the vine has often led to just this
+misapprehension. Besides, Dionysus must not be too closely identified
+with the Bacchanalian orgies, which were only a perversion of rites
+which retained their original purity in the Eleusinia: and this latter
+institution, it must be remembered, was from the first under the control
+of the state,--and that state at the time the most refined on the face
+of the earth.
+
+Surely, it is not more difficult to give a pure and spiritual
+significance to a vintage-festival or to the symbolic wine-cup of
+Dionysus, than in the rhapsodies of a Persian or Hindu poet to symbolize
+the attraction between the Divine Goodness and the human soul by the
+loves of Laili and Majnum, or of Crishna and Radha,--to say nothing of
+the exalted symbolism attached to the love of Solomon for his Egyptian
+princess, and sanctioned by the most delicate taste.
+
+Indeed, is it not true that whatsoever is most sensuous in connection
+with human joy, and at the same time pure, is the very flower of life,
+and therefore the most consummate revelation of holiness? Nothing in
+Nature is so intensely solemn as her summer, in its infinite fulness of
+growth and the unmeasured altitude of its heavens. And within the range
+of human associations which shall we select as revealing the most
+profound solemnity? Surely not the sight of the funeral train, nor of
+the urn crowned with cypress,--of nothing which is associated with death
+or weakness in any shape;--but the sight of gayest festivals, or the
+paraphernalia of palace-halls,--the vision of some youthful maiden of
+transcendent beauty crowned with an orange-wreath, within hearing of
+marriage-bells and the whisperings of holy love,--or the aspirations of
+the dance and the endless breathings of triumphant music. These are they
+which come up most prominently in remembrance,--even as the whole race,
+in its remembrances, instinctively looks back to the Orient,--to some
+Homeric island of the morning, where are the palaces, the choral dances,
+and the risings of the sun.[e] And as Memory has the power to purify the
+past of all material grossness, Faith has the same power as regards the
+present Hence, the closest connection of religious faith with the
+most joyous festivals, with a finely moulded Venus or Apollo, with an
+Ephesian temple or a splendid cathedral, or the sweetest symphonies of
+music, does not mar, but reveals its natural beauty and strength.
+
+[Footnote e: _Odyssey_, xii., 4.]
+
+But most certainly the Greeks gave a profound spiritual meaning to the
+Eleusinia, as also to the mystic connection of Demeter with Dionysus.
+She gave them bread: but they never forgot that she gave them the bread
+of life. "She gave us," says the ancient Isocrates, "two gifts that are
+the most excellent: fruits, that we might not live like beasts; and that
+initiation, those who have part in which have sweeter hope,--both as
+regards the close of life, and for all eternity." So Dionysus gave them
+wine, not only to lighten the cares of life, but as a token, moreover,
+of efficient deliverance from the fear of death, and of the higher joy
+which he would give them in some happier world. And thus it is, that,
+from the earliest times and in all the world, bread and wine have been
+symbols of sacramental significance.
+
+Human life so elevates all things with its exaltation and clothes them
+with its glory, that nothing vain, nothing trifling, can be found within
+its range. He who opposes himself to a single fact thus of necessity
+opposes himself to the whole onward and upward current, and must fall.
+We have heard of Thor, who with his magic mallet and his two celestial
+comrades went to Jötunheim in quest of adventures: and we remember the
+goblet which he could not exhaust because of its mysterious connection
+with the inexhaustible Sea; the race with Hugi, which in the end proved
+to be a race with Thought; and the wrestle with the old nurse Elli, who
+was no other than Time herself, and therefore irresistible. So do we all
+get us mallets ingeniously forged by the dark elves;--we try a race with
+human thought, and look vainly to come out ahead; we laugh at things
+because they are old, but with which we struggle to no purpose; and the
+cup which we confidently put to our lips has no bottom;--in fact, the
+great world of Jötunheim has grown for so long a time and so widely that
+it is quite too much for us,--and its tall people, though we come down
+upon them, like Thor and his companions, from celestial heights, are too
+stout for our mallet.
+
+Nothing human is so insignificant, but that, if you will give it time
+and room, it will become irresistible. The plays of men become their
+dramas; their holidays change to holy days. The representations, through
+which, under various names, they have repeated to themselves the glory
+and the tragedy of their life,--old festivals once celebrated in Egypt
+far back beyond the dimmest myths of human remembrance,--the mystic
+drama of the Eleusinia, which we have been considering in its
+overwhelming sorrow developed in hurried flight, and its lofty
+hope through triumphal pomp and the significant symbolism of
+resurrection,--the epos and the epic rhapsodies,--the circus and
+the amphitheatre,--and even the impetuous song and dance of painted
+savages,--all these, which at first we may pass by with a glance, have
+for our deeper search a meaning which we can never wholly exhaust. Let
+it be that they have grown from feeble beginnings, they have grown to
+gigantic dimensions; and not their infantile proportions, but their
+fullest growth is to be taken as the measure of their strength,--if,
+indeed, it be not wholly immeasurable.
+
+Upon some day, seemingly by chance, but really having its antecedent
+in the remotest antiquity, a company of men participate in some simple
+act,--of sacrifice, it may be, or of amusement. Now that act will be
+reiterated.
+
+ "Quod semel dictum est stabilisque rerum
+ Terminus servet."
+
+The subtile law of repetition, as regards the human will, is as sure
+in Determination as it is in Consciousness. Habit is as inevitable as
+Memory; and as nothing can be forgotten, but, when once known, is
+known forever,--so nothing is done but will be done again. Lethe and
+Annihilation are only myths upon the earth, which men, though suspicious
+of their eternal falsehood, name to themselves in moments of despair
+and fearful apprehension. The poppy has only a fabled virtue; but, like
+Persephone, we have all tasted of the pomegranate, and must ever to
+Hades and back again; for while death and oblivion only seem to be,
+remembrances and resurrections there must be, and without end. Therefore
+this before-mentioned act of sacrifice or amusement will be reiterated
+at given intervals; about it, as a centre, will be gathered all the
+associations of intense interest in human life; and the names connected
+with its origin--once human names upon the earth--will pass upon the
+stars, so that the _nomina_ shall have changed to _numina_, and be
+taken upon the lips with religious awe. So it was with these old
+festivals,--so with all the representations of human life in stone or
+upon the canvas, in the fairy-tale, the romance, and the poem; at every
+successive repetition, at every fresh resurrection, is evolved by human
+faith and sympathy a deeper significance, until they become the
+centres of national thought and feeling, and men believe in them as in
+revelations from heaven; and even the oracles themselves, in respect of
+their inherent meaning, as also of their origin and authority, rise
+by the same ascending series of repeated birth,--like that at Delphi,
+which, at first attributed to the Earth, then to Themis, daughter of
+Earth and Heaven, was at last connected with the Sun and constituted one
+of the richest gems in Apollo's diadem of light.
+
+In the end we shall find that the whole world organizes about its centre
+of Faith. Thus, under three different religious systems, Jerusalem,
+Delphi, and Mecca were held to be each in its turn the _omphalos_ or
+navel of the world. It follows inevitably that the _main_ movement of
+the world must always be joyous and hopeful. By reason of this joy it is
+that every religious system has its feast; and the sixth day--the day
+of Iacchus--is the great day of the festival. The inscription which
+rises above every other is "To the Saviour Gods."
+
+We must look at history as a succession of triumphs from the beginning;
+and each trophy that is erected outdoes in its magnificence all that
+were ever erected before it. Nothing has suffered defeat, except as it
+has run counter to the main movement of conquest. No system of faith,
+therefore, can by any possibility pass away. Involved it may be in some
+fuller system; its _material_ bases may be modified; its central source
+become more central in the human heart, and so stronger in the world and
+more immediate in its connection with the eternal; but the life itself
+of the system must live forever and grow forever.
+
+Still it is true that in the widest growth there is the largest
+liability to weakness. "Thus it is," says Fouqué, "with poor, though
+richly endowed man. All lies within his power so long as action is at
+rest within him; nothing is in his power the moment action has displayed
+itself, even by the lifting-up of a finger on the immeasurable world."
+In the very extent of the empire of an Alexander, a Cæsar, or a
+Tamerlane, rests the possibility of its rapid dissolution. At the
+giddiest altitude of triumph it is that the brain grows dizziest
+and there is revealed the deepest chasm of possible defeat; and the
+conqueror,
+
+ "Having his ear full of his airy fame,"
+
+is just then most likely to fall like Herod from his aërial pomp to the
+very dust. This consciousness, revealing at the highest moment of joy
+its utmost frailty, led the ancients to suspect the presence of some Ate
+or Nemesis in all human triumphs. We all remember the king who threw his
+signet-ring into the sea, that he might in his too happy fortunes avert
+this suspected presence; we remember, too, the apprehension of the
+Chorus in the "Seven against Thebes," looking forward from the noontide
+prosperity of the Theban king to some coming catastrophe.
+
+But it is not without us that this Nemesis waits; she is but another
+name for the fearful possibility which lurks in every human will, of
+treachery to itself. And as solemnity rises to its acme in the most
+sensuous manifestation of the glory of life,--so in all that most
+fascinates and bewilders, at the very crisis of victorious exaltation,
+at the very height of joyous sensibility, does this mysterious power
+of temptation reveal her subtlest treachery; and sometimes in a single
+moment does she change the golden-filleted Horæ, that are our ministers,
+into frightful furies, which drive us back again from triumph into
+flight.
+
+What was it, then, which saved the Eleusinia from this defeat,--which
+kept the movement of the Dionysiac procession from the ruin inevitably
+consequent upon all intemperate joy? It was the presence of our Lady,
+the sorrowing Achtheia, who was the inseparable companion of the joyous
+conqueror,--who subdued the joy of victory, and preserved the strength
+and holy purity of the great Festival. Demeter was thus necessary to
+Dionysus,--as Dionysus to Demeter; and if in remembrance of him the
+sepulchral walls were covered with scenes associated with festivity,--in
+remembrance of her there must needs be a skeleton at every feast.
+
+How inseparably connected in human thought is sorrow with all permanent
+hope is indicated in the penances which men have imposed upon
+themselves, from the earliest Gymnosophists of India, and the Stylitæ of
+Syria, down to the monastic orders of the Romish Church in later times.
+This is the meaning of the old Indian fable which made two of the
+_Rishis_ or penitents to have risen by the discipline of sorrow from
+some low caste,--it may be, from very Pariahs,--first to the rank of
+Brahmins, and at last to the stars. The first initiation in which we
+veil our eyes, losing all, is essential to our fresher birth, by
+which in the second initiation all things are unveiled to us as our
+inheritance: indeed, it is only through that which veils that anything
+is ever revealed or possessed.
+
+Through the same gate we pass both to glory and to tragic suffering,
+each of which heightens and measures the other; and it is only so that
+we can understand the function of sorrow in the Providence of God, or
+interpret the sudden calamities which sometimes overwhelm human hopes at
+their highest aspiration,--which from the most serene and cloudless sky
+evoke storms which leave not even a wreck from their vast ruin.
+
+Nor merely is sorrow efficient in those who hope, but in even a higher
+sense does it attach to the character of Saviour. Apollo is, therefore,
+fabled to have been an exile from heaven and a servant of Admetus;
+indeed, Danaüs, in "The Suppliants" of Æschylus, appeals to Apollo for
+protection on this very plea, addressing him as "the Holy One, and
+an exiled God from heaven." Thus Hercules was compelled to serve
+Eurystheus; and his twelve labors were typed in the twelve signs of the
+zodiac. Æsculapius and Prometheus both suffered excruciating tortures
+and death for the good of men. And Dionysus--himself the centre of all
+joy--was persecuted by the Queen of Heaven and compelled to wander in
+the world. Thus he wandered through Egypt, finding no abiding-place, and
+finally, as the story runs, came to the Phrygian Cybele, that he might
+know in their deepest meaning--even by the initiation of sorrow--the
+mysteries of the Great Mother. And, very significantly, it is from this
+same initiation that _His_ wanderings have their end and his world-wide
+conquest its beginning; as if only thus could be realized the
+possibility both of triumph for himself and of hope for his followers.
+For these wanderers can find rest only in a _suffering_ Saviour, by the
+vision of whose deeper Passion they lose their sense of grief,--as Io on
+Caucasus in sight of the transfixed Prometheus, and the Madonna at the
+Cross.
+
+It is worthy of more attention than we can give it here, yet we cannot
+pass over in silence the fact, so important in this relation, that
+Grecian Tragedy, in all its wonderful development under the three great
+masters, was directly associated, and in its ruder beginnings completely
+identified, with the worship of Dionysus. And this confirms our previous
+hint, that the same element which made tragedy possible for Greece must
+also be sought for in the development of its faith. There are those who
+decry Grecian faith,--at the same time that they laud the Grecian drama
+to the skies: but to the Greeks themselves, who certainly knew more than
+we do as regards either, the drama was only an outgrowth of their faith,
+and derived thence its highest significance. Thus the mystic symbolism
+of the dramatic Choruses, taken out of its religious connections,
+becomes an insoluble enigma; and naturally enough; for its first use
+was in religious worship,--though afterwards it became associated with
+traditionary and historic events. Besides, it was supposed that the
+tragedians wrote under a divine inspiration; and the subjects and
+representations which they embodied were for the most part susceptible
+of a deep spiritual interpretation. Indeed, upon a careful examination,
+we shall find that very many of the dramas directly suggest the two
+Eleusinian movements, representing first the flight of suppliants--as
+of the Heraclidae, the daughters of Danaüs, and of Oedipus and
+Antigone--from persecution to the shrine of some Saviour Deity,--and
+finally a deliverance effected through sacrifice or divine
+interposition. Examples of this are so numerous that we have no space
+for a minute consideration.
+
+But certainly it is plain that the Eleusinia, as being more central,
+more purely spiritual, must in the thought of Greece have risen high
+above the drama. The very dress in which the _mystae_ were initiated was
+preserved as most sacred or deposited in the temple. Or if we insist
+upon measuring their appreciation of the Festival by the more palpable
+standard of numbers,--the temple at Eleusis, by the account of Strabo,
+was capable of holding even in its mystic cell more persons than the
+theatre. To be sure, the celebration was only once in five years,--but
+it was all the more sacred from this very infrequency. Nothing in all
+Greece--and that is saying very much--could compare with it in its depth
+of divine mystery. If anything could, it would have been the drama; but
+no wailings were ever heard from beneath the masks of the stage like the
+wailings of Achtheia,--no jubilant song of the Chorus ever rose like the
+paean of Dionysiac triumph.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Thus was the name of Dionysus connected with the palace and the temple,
+with the sepulchral court of death and the dramatic representations of
+life,--and everywhere associated with our Lady.
+
+Sometimes, indeed, she seems to overshadow and hide him from our vision.
+Thus was it when the Eumenides in their final triumph swept the stage,
+and victory seemed all in the hands of invisible Powers, with no
+human participant: even as throughout the Homeric epos there runs an
+undercurrent of unutterable sadness; because, while to the Gods there
+ever remains a sure seat upon Olympus, unshaken by the winds, untouched
+by rain or snow, crowned with a cloudless radiance,--yet upon man
+come vanity, sorrow, and strife; like the leaves of the forest he
+flourisheth, and then passeth away to the "weak heads of the dead,"
+([Greek: nekuon amenaena karaena],) conquered by purple Death and strong
+Fate.
+
+To the eye of sense, and in the circumscribed movements of this world,
+the desolation seems complete and the defeat final. But the snows of
+winter are necessary to the blossoms of spring,--the waste of death to
+the resurrection of life; and from the vastest of all desolations does
+our Lady lead her children in the loftiest of all flights,--even from
+all sorrow and solitude,--from the wastes of earth and the desolation of
+Æons, to ineffable joy in her Saviour Lord.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+VICTOR AND JACQUELINE.
+
+I.
+
+
+Jacqueline Gabrie and Elsie Méril could not occupy one room, and remain,
+either of them, indifferent to so much as might be manifested of the
+other's inmost life. They could not emigrate together, peasants from
+Domrémy,--Jacqueline so strong, Elsie so fair,--could not labor in the
+same harvest-fields, children of old neighbors, without each being
+concerned in the welfare and affected by the circumstances of the other.
+
+It was near ten o'clock, one evening, when Elsie Méril ran up the
+common stairway, and entered the room in the fourth story where she and
+Jacqueline lodged.
+
+Victor Le Roy, student from Picardy, occupied the room next theirs, and
+was startled from his slumber by the voices of the girls. Elsie was
+fresh from the theatre, from the first play she had ever witnessed; she
+came home excited and delighted, ready to repeat and recite, as long as
+Jacqueline would listen.
+
+And here was Jacqueline.
+
+Early in the evening Elsie had sought her friend with a good deal of
+anxiety. A fellow-lodger and field-laborer had invited her to see the
+play,--and Jacqueline was far down the street, nursing old Antonine
+Duprè. To seek her, thus occupied, on such an errand, Elsie had the good
+taste, and the selfishness, to refrain from doing.
+
+Therefore, after a little deliberation, she had gone to the theatre, and
+there forgot her hard day-labor in the wonders of the stage,--forgot
+Jacqueline, and Antonine, and every care and duty. It was hard for her,
+when all was ended, to come back to compunction and explanation, yet to
+this she had come back.
+
+Neither of the girls was thinking of the student, their neighbor; but
+he was not only wakened by their voices, he amused himself by comparing
+them and their utterances with his preconceived notions of the girls.
+They might not have recognized him in the street, though they had often
+passed him on the stairs; but he certainly could have distinguished the
+pretty face of Elsie, or the strange face of Jacqueline, wherever he
+might meet them.
+
+Elsie ran on with her story, not careful to inquire into the mood of
+Jacqueline,--suspicious of that mood, no doubt,--but at last, made
+breathless by her haste and agitation, she paused, looked anxiously at
+Jacqueline, and finally said,--
+
+"You think I ought not to have gone?"
+
+"Oh, no,--it gave you pleasure."
+
+A pause followed. It was broken at length by Elsie, exclaiming, in a
+voice changed from its former speaking,--
+
+"Jacqueline Gabrie, you are homesick! horribly homesick, Jacqueline!"
+
+"You do not ask for Antonine: yet you know I went to spend the day with
+her," said Jacqueline, very gravely.
+
+"How is Antonine Duprè?" asked Elsie.
+
+"She is dead. I have told you a good many times that she must die. Now,
+she is dead."
+
+"Dead?" repeated Elsie.
+
+"You care as much as if a candle had gone out," said Jacqueline.
+
+"She was as much to me as I to her," was the quick answer. "She never
+liked me. She did not like my mother before me. When you told her my
+name, the day we saw her first, I knew what she thought. So let that go.
+If I could have done her good, though, I would, Jacqueline."
+
+"She has everything she needs,--a great deal more than we have. She is
+very happy, Elsie."
+
+"Am not I? Are not you, in spite of your dreadful look? Your look is
+more terrible than the lady's in the play, just before she killed
+herself. Is that because Antonine is so well off?"
+
+"I wish that I could be where she is," sighed Jacqueline.
+
+"You? You are tired, Jacqueline. You look ill. You will not be fit for
+to-morrow. Come to bed. It is late."
+
+As Jacqueline made no reply to this suggestion, Elsie began to reflect
+upon her words, and to consider wherefore and to whom she had spoken.
+Not quite satisfied with herself could she have been, for at length she
+said in quite another manner,--
+
+"You always said, till now, you wished that you might live a hundred
+years. But it was not because you were afraid to die, you said so,
+Jacqueline."
+
+"I don't know," was the answer,--sadly spoken, "Don't remind me of
+things I have said. I seem to have lost myself."
+
+The voice and the words were effectual, if they were intended as an
+appeal to Elsie. Fain would she now exclude the stage and the play from
+her thoughts,--fain think and feel with Jacqueline, as it had long been
+her habit to do.
+
+Jacqueline, however, was not eager to speak. And Elsie must draw yet
+nearer to her, and make her nearness felt, ere she could hope to receive
+the thought of her friend. By-and-by these words were uttered, solemn,
+slow, and dirge-like:--
+
+"Antonine died just after sundown. I was alone with her. She did not
+think that she would die so soon. I did not. In the morning, John
+Leclerc came in to inquire how she spent the night. He prayed with her.
+And a hymn,--he read a hymn that she seemed to know, for all day she was
+humming it over. I can say some of the lines."
+
+"Say them, Jacqueline," said the softened voice of Elsie.
+
+Slowly, and as one recalls that of which he is uncertain, Jacqueline
+repeated what I copy more entire:--
+
+ "In the midst of life, behold,
+ Death hath girt us round!
+ Whom for help, then, shall we pray?
+ Where shall grace be found?
+ In thee, O Lord, alone!
+ We rue the evil we have done,
+ That thy wrath on us hath drawn.
+ Holy Lord and God!
+ Strong and holy God!
+ Merciful and holy Saviour!
+ Eternal God!
+ Sink us not beneath
+ Bitter pains of endless death!
+ Kyrie, eleison!"
+
+"Then he went away," she continued. "But he did not think it was the
+last time he should speak to Antonine. In the afternoon I thought I saw
+a change, and I wanted to go for somebody. But she said, 'Stay with me.
+I want nothing.' So I sat by her bed. At last she said, 'Come, Lord
+Jesus! come quickly!' and she started up in her bed, as if she saw
+him coming. And as if he were coming nearer, she smiled. That was the
+last,--without a struggle, or as much as a groan."
+
+"No priest there?" asked Elsie.
+
+"No. When I spoke to her about it, she said her priest was Jesus Christ
+the Righteous,--and there was no other,--the High-Priest. She gave me
+her Bible. See how it has been used! 'Search the Scriptures,' she said.
+She told me I was able to learn the truth. 'I loved your mother,' she
+said; 'that is the reason I am so anxious you should know. It is by
+my spirit, said the Lord. Ask for that spirit,' she said. 'He is more
+willing to give than earthly parents are to give good gifts to their
+children.' She said these things, Elsie. If they are true, they must be
+better worth believing than all the riches of the world are worth the
+having."
+
+The interest manifested by the student in this conversation had been on
+the increase since Jacqueline began to speak of Antonine Duprè. It was
+not, at this point of the conversation, waning.
+
+"Your mother would not have agreed with Antonine," said Elsie, as if
+there were weight in the argument;--for such a girl as Jacqueline could
+not speak earnestly in the hearing of a girl like Elsie without result,
+and the result was at this time resistance.
+
+"She believed what she was taught in Domrémy," answered Jacqueline, "She
+believed in Absolution, Extreme Unction, in the need of another priest
+than Jesus Christ,--a representative they call it." She spoke slowly, as
+if interrogating each point of her speech.
+
+"I believe as they believed before us," answered Elsie, coldly.
+
+"We have learned many things since we came to Meaux," answered
+Jacqueline, with a patient gentleness, that indicated the perplexity
+and doubt with which the generous spirit was departing from the old
+dominion. She was indeed departing, with that reverence for the past
+which is not incompatible with the highest hope for the future. "Our
+Joan came from Domrémy, where she must crown the king," she continued.
+"We have much to learn."
+
+"She lost her life," said Elsie, with vehemence.
+
+"Yes, she did lose her life," Jacqueline quietly acquiesced.
+
+"If she had known what must happen, would she have come?"
+
+"Yes, she would have come."
+
+"How late it is!" said Elsie, as if in sleep were certain rest from
+these vexatious thoughts.
+
+Victor Le Roy was by this time lost in his own reflections. These girls
+had supplied an all-sufficient theme; whether they slept or wakened was
+no affair of his. He had somewhat to argue for himself about extreme
+unction, priestly intervention, confession, absolution,--something to
+say to himself about Leclerc, and the departed Antonine.
+
+Late into the night he sat thinking of the marvel of Domrémy and
+of Antonine Duprè, of Picardy and of Meaux, of priests and of the
+High-Priest. Brave and aspiring, Victor Le Roy could not think of
+these things, involved in the names of things above specified, as more
+calculating, prudent spirits might have done. It was his business, as a
+student, to ascertain what powers were working in the world. All true
+characters, of past time or present, must be weighed and measured by
+him. Result was what he aimed at.
+
+Jacqueline's words had not given him new thoughts, but unawares they did
+summon him to his appointed labor. He looked to find the truth. He must
+stand to do his work. He must haste to make his choice. Enthusiastic,
+chivalrous, and strong, he was seeking the divine right, night and
+day,--and to ascertain that, as it seemed, he had come from Picardy to
+Meaux.
+
+Elsie Méril went to bed, as she had invited Jacqueline to do; to sleep,
+to dream, she went,--and to smile, in her dreaming, on the world that
+smiled on her.
+
+Jacqueline sat by the window; leaned from the window, and prayed; her
+own prayer she prayed, as Antonine had said she must, if she would
+discover what she needed, and obtain an answer.
+
+She thought of the dead,--her own. She pondered on the future. She
+recalled some lines of the hymn Antonine had repeated, and she
+wished--oh, how she wished!--that, while the woman lived, and could
+reason and speak, she had told her about the letter she had received
+from the priest of Domrémy. Many a time it had been on her lips to tell,
+but she failed in courage to bring her poor affairs into that chamber
+and disturb that dying hour. Now she wished that she had done it. Now
+she felt that speech had been the merest act of justice to herself.
+
+But there was Leclerc, the wool-comber, and his mother; she might rely
+on them for the instruction she needed.
+
+Old Antonine's faith had made a deep impression on the strong-hearted
+and deep-thinking girl; as also had the prayers of John
+Leclerc,--especially that last prayer offered for Antonine. It seemed to
+authenticate, by its strong, unfaltering utterance, the poor old woman's
+evidence. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever,"
+were strong words that seemed about to take possession of the heart of
+Jacqueline.
+
+Therefore, while Elsie slept, she prayed,--looking farther than the
+city-streets, and darkness,--looking farther than the shining stars.
+What she sought, poor girl, stood in her silent chamber, stood in her
+waiting heart. But she knew Him not, and her ear was heavy; she did not
+hear the voice, that she should answer Him, "Rabboni!"
+
+
+II.
+
+
+A fortnight from this night, after the harvesters had left the fields of
+M. Flaval, Jacqueline was lingering in the twilight.
+
+The instant the day's work was done, the laborers set out for Meaux,
+Their haste suggested some unusual cause.
+
+John Leclerc, wool-comber, had received that day his sentence. Report of
+the sentence had spread among the reapers in the field and all along the
+vineyards of the hill-sides. Not a little stir was occasioned by this
+sentence: three days of whipping through the public streets, to conclude
+with branding on the forehead. For this Leclerc, it seemed, had
+profanely and audaciously declared that a man might in his own behalf
+deal with the invisible God, by the mediation of Christ, the sole
+Mediator between God and man. Viewed in the light of his offence, his
+punishment certainly was of the mildest. Tidings of his sentence were
+received with various emotion: by some as though they were maddened
+with new wine; others wept openly; many more were pained at heart; some
+brutally rejoiced; some were incredulous.
+
+But now they were all on their way to Meaux; the fields were quite
+deserted. Urged by one desire, to ascertain the facts of the trial,
+and the time when the sentence would be executed, the laborers were
+returning to the town.
+
+Without demonstration of any emotion, Jacqueline Gabrie, quiet,
+silent, walked along the river-bank, until she came to the clump of
+chestnut-trees, whose shadow fell across the stream. Many a time,
+through the hot, dreadful day, her eyes turned wistfully to this place.
+In the morning Elsie Méril had promised Jacqueline that at twilight they
+would read together here the leaves the poor old mother of Leclerc gave
+Jacqueline last night: when they had read them, they would walk home by
+starlight together. But now the time had come, and Jacqueline was alone.
+Elsie had returned to town with other young harvesters.
+
+"Very well," said Jacqueline, when Elsie told her she must go. It was
+not, indeed, inexplicable that she should prefer the many voices to the
+one,--excitement and company, rather than quiet, dangerous thinking.
+
+But, thus left alone, the face of Jacqueline expressed both sorrow and
+indignation. She would exact nothing of Elsie; but latterly how often
+had she expected of her companion more than she gave or could give!
+
+Of course the young girl was equal to others in pity and surprise; but
+there were people in the world beside the wool-comber and his mother.
+Nothing of vast import was suggested by his sentence to her mind. She
+did not see that spiritual freedom was threatened with destruction. If
+she heard the danger questioned, she could not apprehend it. Though she
+had listened to the preaching of Leclerc and had been moved by it, her
+sense of truth and of justice was not so acute as to lead her willingly
+to incur a risk in the maintaining of the same.
+
+She would not look into Antonine's Bible, which Jacqueline had read so
+much during the last fortnight. She was not the girl to torment herself
+about her soul, when the Church would save it for her by mere compliance
+with a few easy regulations.
+
+More and more was Elsie disappointing Jacqueline. Day by day these girls
+were developing in ways which bade fair to separate them in the end.
+When now they had most need of each other, their estrangement was
+becoming more apparent and decided. The peasant-dress of Elsie would not
+content her always, Jacqueline said sadly to herself.
+
+Jacqueline's tracts, indeed, promised poorly as entertainment for an
+hour of rest;--rest gained by hours of toil. The confusion of tongues
+and the excitement of the city pleased Elsie better. So she went along
+the road to Meaux, and was not talking, neither thinking, all the way,
+of the wrongs of John Leclerc, and the sorrows of his mother,--neither
+meditating constantly, and with deep-seated purpose, "I will not let
+thee go, except thou bless me!"--neither on this problem, agitated then
+in so many earnest minds, "What shall a man give in exchange for his
+soul?"
+
+Thus Jacqueline sat alone and thought that she would read by herself the
+tracts Leclerc had found it good to study. But unopened she held the
+little printed scroll, while she watched the home-returning birds, whose
+nests were in the mighty branches of the chestnut-trees.
+
+She needed the repose more than the teaching, even; for all day the
+sun had fallen heavily on the harvesters,--and toiling with a troubled
+heart, under a burning sun, will leave the laborer not in the best
+condition for such work as Jacqueline believed she had to do.
+
+But she had promised the old woman she would read these tracts, and this
+was her only time, for they must be returned that night: others were
+waiting for them with an eagerness and longing of which, haply,
+tract-dispensers see little now. Still she delayed in opening them. The
+news of Leclerc's sentence had filled her with dismay.
+
+Did she dread to read the truth,--"the truth of Jesus Christ," as
+his mother styled it? The frightful image of the bleeding, lacerated
+wool-comber would come between her and the book in which that faith was
+written for maintaining which this man must suffer. Strange contrast
+between the heavy gloom and terror of her thoughts and the peaceful
+"river flowing on"! How tranquil were the fields that spread beyond
+her sight! But there is no rest or joy in Nature to the agitated and
+foreboding spirit. Must we not have conquered the world, if we serenely
+enter into Nature's rest?
+
+Fain would Jacqueline have turned her face and steps in another
+direction that night than toward the road that led to Meaux: to the
+village on the border of the Vosges,--to the ancient Domrémy. Once her
+home was there; but Jacqueline had passed forth from the old, humble,
+true defences: for herself must live and die.
+
+Domrémy had a home for her no more. The priest, on whom she had relied
+when all failed her, was still there, it is true; and once she had
+thought, that, while he lived, she was not fatherless, not homeless: but
+his authority had ceased to be paternal, and she trusted him no longer.
+
+She had two graves in the old village, and among the living a few faces
+she never could forget. But on this earth she had no home.
+
+Musing on these dreary facts, and on the bleeding, branded image of
+Leclerc, as her imagination rendered him back to his friends, his
+fearful trial over, a vision more familiar to her childhood than her
+youth opened to Jacqueline.
+
+There was one who used to wander through the woods that bordered the
+mountains in whose shadow stood Domrémy,--one whose works had glorified
+her name in the England and the France that made a martyr of her. Jeanne
+d'Arc had ventured all things for the truth's sake: was she, who also
+came forth from that village, by any power commissioned?
+
+Jacqueline laid the tracts on the grass. Over them she placed a stone.
+She bowed her head. She hid her face. She saw no more the river, trees,
+or home-returning birds; heard not the rush of water or of wind,--nor,
+even now, the hurry and the shout; that possibly to-morrow would follow
+the poor wool-comber through the streets of Meaux,--and on the third day
+they would brand him!
+
+She remembered an old cottage in the shadow of the forest-covered
+mountains. She remembered one who died there suddenly, and without
+remedy,--her father, unabsolved and unanointed, dying in fear and
+torment, in a moment when none anticipated death. She remembered a
+strong-hearted woman who seemed to die with him,--who died to all the
+interests of this life, and was buried by her husband ere a twelvemonth
+had passed,--her mother, who was buried by her father's side.
+
+Burdened with a solemn care they left their child. The priest of
+Domrémy, and none beside him, knew the weight of this burden. How had he
+helped her bear it? since it is the _business_ of the shepherd to look
+after the younglings of the flock. Her hard earnings paid him for
+the prayers he offered for the deliverance of her father from his
+purgatorial woes. Burdened with a dire debt of filial love, the priest
+had let her depart from Domrémy; his influence followed her as an
+oppression and a care,--a degradation also.
+
+Her life of labor was a slavish life. All she did, and all she left
+undone, she looked at with sad-hearted reference to the great object of
+her life. Far away she put all allurement to tempting, youthful joy.
+What had she to do with merriment and jollity, while a sin remained
+unexpiated, or a moment of her father's suffering and sorrow could be
+anticipated?
+
+How, probably, would these new doctrines, held fast by some through
+persecution and danger, these doctrines which brought liberty to light,
+be received by one so fast a prisoner of Hope as she? She had pledged
+herself, with solemn vows had promised, to complete the work her mother
+left unfinished when she died.
+
+Some of the laborers in the field, Elsie among them, had hoped, they
+said, that the wool-comber would retract from his dangerous position.
+Recalling their words, Jacqueline asked herself would she choose to have
+him retract? She reminded herself of the only martyr whose memory she
+loved, the glorious girl from Domrémy, and a lofty and stern spirit
+seemed to rouse within her as she answered that question. She believed
+that John had found and taught the truth; and was Truth to be sacrificed
+to Power that hated it? Not by a suicidal act, at least.
+
+She took the tracts, so judging, from underneath the stone, wistfully
+looked them over, and, as she did so, recalled these words: "You cannot
+buy your pardon of a priest; he has no power to sell it; he cannot even
+give it. Ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, upbraiding not.
+'If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how
+much more shall your Heavenly Father give his Holy Spirit to them that
+ask him!'"
+
+She could never forget these words. She could never forget the
+preacher's look when he used them; nor the solemnity of the assenting
+faith, as attested by the countenances of those around her in that
+"upper room."
+
+But her father! What would this faith do for the departed?
+
+Yet again she dared to pray,--here in this solitude, to ask for that
+Holy Spirit, the Enlightener. And it was truly with trembling, in
+the face of all presentiments of what the gift might possibly, must
+certainly, import to her. But what was she, that she could withstand
+God, or His gift, for any fear of the result that might attend the
+giving of the gift?
+
+Divinely she seemed to be inspired with that courageous thought. She
+rose up, as if to follow the laborers who had already gone to Meaux. But
+she had not passed out from the shadow of the great trees when another
+shadow fell along her path.
+
+
+III.
+
+
+It was Victor Le Roy who was so close at hand. He recognized Jacqueline;
+for, as he came down the road, now and then he caught a glimpse of her
+red peasant-dress. And he accepted his persuasion as it had been an
+assurance; for he believed that on such a night no other girl would
+linger alone near the place of her day's labor. Moreover, while passing
+the group of harvesters, he had observed that she was not among them.
+
+The acquaintance of these young persons was but slight; yet it was of
+such a character as must needs increase. Within the last fortnight they
+had met repeatedly in the room of Leclerc's mother. On the last night of
+her son's preaching they had together listened to his words. The young
+student with manly aspirations, ambitious, courageous, inquiring, and
+the peasant girl who toiled in fields and vineyards, were on the same
+day hearkening to the call, "Ho, every one that thirsteth!" with the
+consciousness that the call was meant for them.
+
+When Victor Le Roy saw that Jacqueline perceived and recognized him, he
+also observed the tracts in her hand and the trouble in her countenance,
+and he wondered in his heart whether she could be ignorant of what had
+passed that day at Meaux, and if it could be possible that her manifest
+disturbance arose from any perplexity or disquietude independent of the
+sentence that had been passed on John Leclerc. His first words brought
+an answer that satisfied his doubt.
+
+"She has chosen that good part which shall not be taken from her," said
+he, as he came near. "The country is so fair, could no one of them all
+except Jacqueline see that? Were they all drawn away by the bloody
+fascination of Meaux? even Elsie?"
+
+"It was the news that hurried her home with the rest," answered she,
+almost pleased at this disturbance of the solitude.
+
+"Did that keep you here, Jacqueline?" he asked. "It sent me out of the
+city. The dust choked me. Every face looked like a devil's. To-morrow
+night, to-morrow night, the harvesters will hurry all the faster.
+Terrible curiosity! And if they find traces of his blood along the
+streets, there will be enough to talk about through the rest of the
+harvesting. Jacqueline, if the river could be poured through those
+streets, the sacred blood could never be washed out. 'Tis not the
+indignity, nor the cruelty, I think of most, but the barbarous, wild
+sin. Shall a man's truest liberty be taken from him, as though, indeed,
+he were not a man of God, but the spiritual subject of his fellows? If
+that is their plan, they may light the fires,--there are many who will
+not shrink from sealing their faith with their blood."
+
+These words, spoken with vehemence, were the first free utterance
+Victor Le Roy had given to his feelings all day. All day they had been
+concentrating, and now came from him fiery and fast.
+
+It was time for him to know in whom and in what he believed.
+
+Greatly moved by his words, Jacqueline said, giving him the tracts,--
+
+"I came from Domrémy, I am free. No one can be hurt by what befalls me.
+I want to know the truth. I am not afraid. Did John Leclerc never give
+way for a moment? Is he really to be whipped through the streets, and on
+the third day to be branded? Will he not retract?"
+
+"Never!" was the answer,--spoken not without a shudder. "He did not
+flinch through all the trial, Jacqueline. And his old mother says,
+'Blessed be Jesus Christ and his witnesses!'"
+
+"I came from Domrémy," seemed to be in the girl's thought again; for
+her eyes flashed when she looked at Victor Le Roy, as though she could
+believe the heavens would open for the enlightening of such believers.
+
+"She gave me those to read," said she, pointing to the tracts she had
+given him.
+
+"And have you been reading them here by yourself?"
+
+"No. Elsie and I were to have read them together; but I fell to
+thinking."
+
+"You mean to wait for her, then?"
+
+"I was afraid I should not make the right sense of them."
+
+"Sit down, Jacqueline, and let me read aloud. I have read them before.
+And I understand them better than Elsie does, or ever will."
+
+"I am afraid that is true, Sir. If you read, I will listen."
+
+But he did not, with this permission, begin instantly.
+
+"You came from Domrémy, Jacqueline," said he. "I came from Picardy. My
+home was within a stone's throw of the castle where Jeanne d'Arc was a
+prisoner before they carried her to Rouen. I have often walked about
+that castle and tried to think how it must have been with her when they
+left her there a prisoner. God knows, perhaps we shall all have an
+opportunity of knowing, how she felt when a prisoner of Truth. Like a
+fly in a spider's net she was, poor girl! Only nineteen! She had lived
+a life that was worth the living, Jacqueline. She knew she was about
+to meet the fate her heart must have foretold. Girls do not run such a
+course and then die quietly in their beds. They are attended to their
+rest by grim sentinels, and they light fagots for them. I have read the
+story many a time, when I could look at the window of the very room
+where she was a prisoner. It was strange to think of her witnessing the
+crowning of the King, with the conviction that her work ended there and
+then,--of the women who brought their children to touch her garments or
+her hands, to let her smile on them, or speak to them, or maybe kiss
+them. And the soldiers deemed their swords were stronger when they had
+but touched hers. And they knelt down to kiss her standard, that white
+standard, so often victorious! I have read many a time of that glorious
+day at Rheims."
+
+"And she said, _that_ day,' Oh, why can I not die here?'" said
+Jacqueline, with a low voice.
+
+"And when the Archbishop asked her," continued Victor, "'Where do you,
+then, expect to die?' she answered, 'I know not. I shall die where God
+pleases. I have done what the Lord my God commanded me; and I wish that
+He would now send me to keep my sheep with my mother and sister.'"
+
+"Because she loved Domrémy, and her work was done," said Jacqueline,
+sadly. "And so many hated her! But her mother would be sure to love.
+Jeanne would never see an evil eye in Domrémy, and no one would lie in
+wait to kill her in the Vosges woods."
+
+"It was such as you, Jacqueline, who believed in her, and comforted her.
+And to every one that consoled her Christ will surely say, 'Ye blessed
+of my Father, ye did it unto me!' Yes, to be sure, there were too many
+who stood ready to kill her in all France,--besides those who were
+afraid of her, and fought against our armies. Even when they were taking
+her to see the Dauphin, the guard would have drowned her, and lied about
+it, but they were restrained. It is something to have been born in
+Domrémy,--to have grown up in the very place where she used to play, a
+happy little girl. You have seen that fountain, and heard the bells she
+loved so much. It was good for you, I know."
+
+"Her prayers were everywhere," Jacqueline replied. "Everywhere she heard
+the voices that called her to come and deliver France. But her father
+did not believe in her. He persecuted Jeanne."
+
+"A man's foes are of his own household," said Victor. "You see the same
+thing now. It is the very family of Christ--yes! so they dare call
+it--who are going to tear and rend Leclerc to-morrow for believing the
+words of Christ. A hundred judges settled that Jeanne should be burned;
+and for believing such words as are in these books"--
+
+"Read me those words," said Jacqueline.
+
+So they turned from speaking of Joan and her work, to contemplate
+another style of heroism, and to question their own hearts.
+
+Jacqueline Gabrie had lived through eighteen years of hardship and
+exposure. She was strong, contented, resolute. Left to herself, she
+would probably have suffered no disturbance of her creed,--would have
+lived and died conforming to the letter of its law. But thrown under
+the influence of those who did agitate the subject, she was brave and
+clear-headed. She listened now, while, according to her wish, her
+neighbor read,--listened with clear intelligence, intent on the truth.
+That, or any truth, accepted, she would hardly shrink from whatever it
+involved. This was the reason why she had really feared to ask the Holy
+Ghost's enlightenment! So well she understood herself! Truth was truth,
+and, if received, to be abided by. She could not hold it loosely. She
+could not trifle with it. She was born in Domrémy. She had played under
+the Fairy Oak. She knew the woods where Joan wandered when she sought
+her saintly solitude. The fact was acting on her as an inspiration,
+when Domrémy became a memory, when she labored far away from the wooded
+Vosges and the meadows of Lorraine.
+
+She listened to the reading, as girls do not always listen when they sit
+in the presence of a reader such as young Le Roy.
+
+And let it here be understood--that the conclusion bring no sorrow, and
+no sense of wrong to those who turn these pages, thinking to find the
+climax dear to half-fledged imagination, incapable from inexperience of
+any deeper truth, (I render them all homage!)--this story is not told
+for any sake but truth's.
+
+This Jacqueline did listen to this Victor, thinking actually of the
+words he read. She looked at him really to ascertain whether her
+apprehension of these things was all the same as his. She questioned
+him, with the simple desire to learn what he could tell her. Her hands
+were very hard, so constant had been her dealing with the rough facts of
+this life; but the hard hand was firm in its clasp, and ready with its
+helpfulness. Her eyes were open, and very clear of dreams. There was
+room in them for tenderness as well as truth. Her voice was not the
+sweetest of all voices in this world; but it had the quality that would
+make it prized by others when heart and flesh were failing; for it would
+be strong to speak then with cheerful faith and an unfaltering courage.
+
+Jacqueline sat there under the chestnut-trees, upon the river-bank,
+strong-hearted, high-hearted, a brave, generous woman. What if her days
+were toilsome? What if her peasant-dress was not the finest woven in the
+looms of Paris or of Meaux? Her prayers were brief, her toil was long,
+her sleep was sound,--her virtue firm as the everlasting mountains.
+Jacqueline, I have singled you from among hordes and tribes and legions
+upon legions of women, one among ten thousand, altogether lovely,--not
+for dalliance, not for idleness, not for dancing, which is well; not for
+song, which is better; not for beauty, which, perhaps, is best; not for
+grace, or power, or passion. There is an attribute of God which is more
+to His universe than all evidence of power. It is His truth. Jacqueline,
+it is for this your name shall shine upon my page.
+
+And, manifestly, it is by virtue of this quality that her reader is
+moved and attracted at this hour of twilight on the river-bank.
+
+Her intelligence is so quick! her apprehension so direct! her
+conclusions so true! He intended to aid her; but Mazurier himself had
+never uttered comments so entirely to the purpose as did this young
+girl, speaking from heart and brain. Better fortune, apparently, could
+not have befallen him than was his in this reading; for with every
+sentence almost came her comment, clear, earnest, to the point.
+
+He had need of such a friend as Jacqueline seemed able to prove herself.
+His nearest living relative was an uncle, who had sent the ambitious and
+capable young student to Meaux; for he gave great promise, and was worth
+an experiment, the old man thought,--and was strong to be thrown out
+into the world, where he might ascertain the power of self-reliance. He
+had need of friends, and, of all friends, one like Jacqueline.
+
+From the silence and retirement of his home in Picardy he had come
+to Meaux,--the town that was so astir, busy, thoroughly alive!
+Inexperienced in worldly ways he came. His face was beautiful with its
+refinement and power of expression. His eyes were full of eloquence;
+so also was his voice. When he came from Picardy to Meaux, his old
+neighbors prophesied for him. He knew their prophecies, and purposed to
+fulfil them. He ceased from dreaming, when he came to Meaux. He was not
+dreaming, when he looked on Jacqueline. He was aware of what he read,
+and how she listened, under those chestnut-trees.
+
+The burden of the tracts he read to Jacqueline was salvation by faith,
+not of works,--an iconoclastic doctrine, that was to sweep away
+the great mass of Romish superstition, invalidating Papal power.
+Image-worship, shrine-frequenting sacrifices, indulgences, were esteemed
+and proved less than nothing worth in the work of salvation.
+
+"Did you understand John, when he said that the priests deceived us and
+were full of robberies, and talked about the masses for the dead, and
+said the only good of them was to put money into the Church?" asked
+Jacqueline.
+
+"I believe it," he replied, with spirit.
+
+"That the masses are worth nothing?" she asked,--far from concealing
+that the thought disturbed her.
+
+"What can they be worth, if a man has lived a bad life?"
+
+"_That_ my father did _not!_" she exclaimed.
+
+"If a man is a bad man, why, then he is. He has gone where he must be
+judged. The Scripture says, As a tree falls, it must lie."
+
+"My father was a good man, Victor. But he died of a sudden, and there
+was no time."
+
+"No time for what, Jacqueline? No time for him to turn about, and be a
+bad man in the end?"
+
+"No time for confession and absolution. He died praying God to forgive
+him all his sins. I heard him. I wondered, Victor, for I never thought
+of his committing sins. And my mother mourned for him as a good wife
+should not mourn for a bad husband."
+
+"Then what is your trouble, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Do you know why I came here to Meaux? I came to get money,--to earn it.
+I should be paid more money here than I got for any work at home, they
+said: that was the reason. When I had earned so much,--it was a large
+sum, but I knew I should get it, and the priest encouraged me to think
+I should,--he said that my heart's desire would be accomplished. And I
+could earn the money before winter is over, I think. But now, if"----
+
+"Throw it into the Seine, when you get it, rather than pay it to the
+liar for selling your father out of a place he was never in! He is safe,
+believe me, if he was the good man you say. Do not disturb yourself,
+Jacqueline."
+
+"He never harmed a soul. And we loved him that way a bad man could not
+be loved."
+
+As Jacqueline said this, a smile more sad than joyful passed over her
+face, and disappeared.
+
+"He rests in peace," said Victor Le Roy.
+
+"It is what I must believe. But what if there should be a mistake about
+it? It was all I was working for."
+
+"Think for yourself, Jacqueline. No matter what Leclerc thinks or I
+think. Can you suppose that Jesus Christ requires any such thing as this
+of you, that you should make a slave of yourself for the expiation of
+your father? It is a monstrous thought. Doubt not it was love that
+took him away so quickly. And love can care for him. Long before this,
+doubtless, he has heard the words, 'Come, ye blessed of my father!' And
+what is required of you, do you ask? You shall be merciful to them that
+live; and trust Him that He will care for those who have gone beyond
+your reach. Is it so? Do I understand you? You have been thinking to
+_buy_ this good _gift_ of God, eternal life for your father, when of
+course you could have nothing to do with it. You have been imposed upon,
+and robbed all this while, and this is the amount of it."
+
+"Well, do not speak so. If what you say is true,--and I think it may
+be,--what is past is past."
+
+"But won't you see what an infernal lie has been practised on you, and
+all the rest of us who had any conscience or heart in us, all this
+while? There _is_ no purgatory; and it is nonsense to think, that, if
+there were, money could buy a man out of it. Jesus Christ is the one
+sole atonement for sin. And by faith in Him shall a man save his soul
+alive. That is the only way. If I lose my soul, and am gone, the rest
+is between me and God. Do you see it _should_ be so, and must be so,
+Jacqueline?"
+
+"He was a good man," said Jacqueline.
+
+She did not find it quite easy to make nothing of all this matter, which
+had been the main-spring of her effort since her father died. She could
+not in one instant drop from her calculations that on which she had
+heretofore based all her activity. She had labored so long, so hard, to
+buy the rest and peace and heavenly blessedness of the father she loved,
+it was hardly to be expected that at once she would choose to see that
+in that rest and peace and blessedness, she, as a producing power, had
+no part whatever.
+
+As she more than hinted, the purpose of her life seemed to be taken from
+her. She could not perceive that fact without some consternation; could
+not instantly connect it with another, which should enable her to look
+around her with the deliberation of a liberated spirit, choosing her new
+work. And in this she was acted upon by more than the fear arising from
+the influences of her old belief. Of course she should have been, and
+yet she was not, able to drop instantly and forever from recollection
+the constant sacrifices she had made, the deprivation she had endured,
+with heroic persistence,--the putting far away every personal
+indulgence whose price had a market value. Her father was not the only
+person concerned in this work; the priest; herself. She had believed
+in the pastor of Domrémy. Yet he had deceived her. Else he was
+self-deceived; and what if the blind should strive to lead the blind?
+_Could_ she accept the new faith, the great freedom, with perfect
+rejoicing?
+
+Victor Le Roy seemed to have some suspicion of what was passing in
+her thoughts. He did not need to watch her changeful face in order to
+understand them.
+
+"I advise you to still think of this," said he. "Recall your father's
+life, and then ask yourself if it is likely that He who is Love requires
+the sacrifice of your youth and your strength before your father shall
+receive from Him what He has promised to give to all who trust in Him.
+Take God at his word, and you will be obliged to give up all this
+priest-trash."
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+Victor Le Roy spoke these words quietly, as if aware that he might
+safely leave them, as well as any other true words, to the just sense of
+Jacqueline.
+
+She was none the happier for them when she returned that night to the
+little city room, the poor lodging whose high window overlooked both
+town and country, city streets and harvest-fields, and the river flowing
+on beyond the borders of the town,--no happier through many a moment of
+thinking, until, as it were by an instant illumination, she began to
+see the truth of the matter, as some might wonder she did not instantly
+perceive it, if they could omit from observation this leading fact, that
+the orphan girl was Jacqueline Gabrie, child of the Church, and not
+a wise and generous person, who had never been in bondage to
+superstitions.
+
+For a long time after her return to her lodging she was alone. Elsie was
+in the street with the rest of the town, talking, as all were talking,
+of the sight that Meaux should see to-morrow.
+
+Besides Jacqueline, there was hardly another person in this great
+building, six stories high, every room of which had usually a tenant at
+this hour. She sat by her window, and looked at the dusky town, over
+which the moon was rising. But her thoughts were far away; over many a
+league they wandered.
+
+Once more she stood on the playground of her toilsome childhood. She
+recalled many a year of sacrificing drudgery, which now she could not
+name such,--for another reason than that which had heretofore prevented
+her from calling it a sacrifice. She remembered these years of wrong and
+of extortion,--they received their proper name now,--years whose mirth
+and leisure she had quietly foregone, but during which she had borne a
+burden that saddened youth, while it also dignified it,--a burden which
+had made her heart's natural cheerfulness the subject of self-reproach,
+and her maiden dreams and wishes matter for tears, for shame, for
+confession, for prayer.
+
+Now Victor Le Roy's words came to her very strangely; powerfully they
+moved her. She believed them in this solitude, where at leisure she
+could meditate upon them. A vision more fair and blessed than she had
+ever imagined rose before her. There was no suffering in it, and no
+sorrow; it was full of peace. Already, in the heaven to which she had
+hoped her toil would give him at length admission, her father had found
+his home. There was a glory in his rest not reflected from her filial
+love, but from the all-availing love of Christ.
+
+Then--delay the rigor of your judgment!--she began,--yes, she, this
+Jacqueline, began to count the cost of what she had done. She was not a
+sordid soul, she had not a miserly nature. Before she had gone far in
+that strange computation, she paused abruptly, with a crimsoned face,
+and not with tearless eyes. Counting the cost! Estimating the sacrifice!
+Had, then, her purpose been less holy because excited by falsehood and
+sustained through delusion? Was she less loving and less true, because
+deceived? And was she to lament that Christ, the one and only Priest,
+rather than another instrumentality, was the deliverer of her beloved
+from the power of death?
+
+No ritual was remembered, and no formula consulted, when she cried
+out,--"It is so! and I thank Thee! Only give me now, my Jesus, a
+purpose as holy as that Thou hast taken away!"
+
+But she had not come into her chamber to spend a solitary evening there.
+Turning away from the window, she bestowed a little care upon her
+person, smoothed away the traces of her day's labor, and after all was
+done she lingered yet longer. She was going out, evidently. Whither? To
+visit the mother of John Leclerc. She must carry back the tracts the
+good woman had lent her. Their contents had firm lodgement in her
+memory.
+
+Others might run to and fro in the streets, and talk about the corners,
+and prognosticate with passion, and defy, in the way of cowardice, where
+safety rather than the truth is well assured. If one woman could console
+another, Jacqueline wished that she might console Leclerc's mother. And
+if any words of wisdom could drop from the poor old woman's lips while
+her soul was in this strait, Jacqueline desired to hear those words.
+
+Down the many flights of stairs she went across the court, and then
+along the street, to the house where the wool-comber lived.
+
+A brief pause followed her knock for admittance. She repeated it. Then
+was heard a sound from within,--a step crossing the floor. The door
+opened, and there stood the mother of Leclerc, ready to face any danger,
+the very Fiend himself.
+
+But when she saw that it was Jacqueline, only Jacqueline,--an angel, as
+one might say, and not a devil,--the terrible look passed from her face;
+she opened the door wide.
+
+"Come in, child! come in!"
+
+So Jacqueline went into the room where John had worked and thought,
+reasoned, argued, prayed.
+
+This is the home of the man because of whom many are this night offended
+in the city of Meaux. This is the place whence issued the power that has
+set the tongues to talking, and the minds to thinking, and the hearts to
+hoping, and the authorities to avenging.
+
+A grain of mustard-seed is the kingdom of heaven in a figure; the
+wandering winds a symbol of the Pentecostal power: a dove did signify
+the descent of God to man. This poor chamber, so pent in, and so lowly,
+so obscure, has its significance. Here has a life been lived; and not
+the least does it import, that walls are rough and the ceiling low.
+
+But the life of John Leclerc was not to be limited. A power has stood
+here which by its freedom has set at defiance the customary calculation
+of the worldly-wise. In high places and in low the people are this night
+disturbed because of him who has dared to lift his voice in the freedom
+of the speech of God. In drawing-rooms odorous with luxury the man's
+name has mention, and the vulgarity of his liberated speech and
+courageous faith is a theme to move the wonder and excite the
+reprobation of hearts whose languid beating keeps up their show of life,
+--to what sufficient purpose expect me not to tell. His voice is loud
+and harsh to echo through these music-loving halls; it rends and tears,
+with almost savage strength, the dainty silences.
+
+But busier tongues are elsewhere more vehement in speech; larger
+hearts beat faster indignation; grief and vulgarest curiosity are all
+manifesting themselves after their several necessity. In solitary places
+heroes pray throughout the night, wrestling like Jacob, agonizing like
+Saul, and with some of them the angel left his blessing; for some the
+golden harp was struck that soothed their souls to peace. Angels of
+heaven had work to do that night. Angels of heaven and hell did prove
+themselves that night in Meaux: night of unrest and sleeplessness, or of
+cruel dreaming; night of bloody visions, tortured by the apprehension
+of a lacerated body driven through the city streets, and of the hooting
+shouts of Devildom; night haunted by a gory image,--the defiled temple
+of the Holy Ghost.
+
+Did the prospect of torture keep _him_ wakeful? Could the man bear the
+disgrace, the derision, shouting, agony? Was there nothing in this
+thought, that as a witness of Jesus Christ he was to appear next day,
+that should soothe him even unto slumber? Upon the silence of his
+guarded chamber let none but ministering angels break. Sacred to him,
+and to Him who watched the hours of the night, let the night go!
+
+But here--his mother, Jacqueline with her--we may linger with these.
+
+
+V.
+
+
+When the old woman saw that it was Jacqueline Gabrie who stood waiting
+admittance, she opened the door wider, as I said; and the dark solemnity
+of her countenance seemed to be, by so much as a single ray, enlivened
+for an instant.
+
+She at once perceived the tracts which Jacqueline had brought. Aware of
+this, the girl said,--
+
+"I stayed to hear them read, after I heard that for the sake of the
+truth in them"--she hesitated--"this city will invite God's wrath
+to-morrow."
+
+And she gave the papers to the old woman, who took them in silence.
+
+By-and-by she asked,--
+
+"Are you just home, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Since sunset,--though it was nearly dark when I came in,"--she
+answered. "Victor Le Roy was down by the riverbank, and he read them for
+me."
+
+"He wanted to get out of town, maybe. You would surely have thought it
+was a holiday, Jacqueline, if you could have seen the people. Anything
+for a show: but some of them might well lament. Did you want to know the
+truth he pays so dear for teaching? But you have heard it, my child."
+
+"We all heard what he must pay for it, in the fields at noon. Yes,
+mother, I wanted to know."
+
+"But if you shall believe it, Jacqueline, it may lead you into danger,
+into sad straits," said the old woman, looking at the young girl with
+earnest pity in her eyes.
+
+She loved this girl, and shuddered at the thought of exposing her to
+danger.
+
+Jacqueline had nursed her neighbor, Antonine, and more than once, after
+a hard day's labor, which must be followed by another, she had sat with
+her through the night; and she could pay this service only with love,
+and the best gift of her love was to instruct her in the truth. John and
+she had proved their grateful interest in her fortunes by giving her
+that which might expose her to danger, persecution, and they could not
+foresee to what extremity of evil.
+
+And now the old woman felt constrained to say this to her, even for her
+love's sake,--"It may lead you into danger."
+
+"But if truth is dangerous, shall I choose to be safe?" answered
+Jacqueline, with stately courage.
+
+"It _is_ truth. It _will_ support him. Blessed be Jesus Christ and His
+witnesses! To-night, and to-morrow, and the third day, our Jesus will
+sustain him. They think John will retract. They do not know my son. They
+do not know how he has waited, prayed, and studied to learn the truth,
+and how dear it is to him. No, Jacqueline, they do not. But when they
+prove him, they will know. And if he is willing to witness, shall I
+not be glad? The people will understand him better afterward,--and the
+priests, maybe. 'I can do all things,' said he, 'Christ strengthening
+me'; and that was said long ago, by one who was proved. Where shall you
+be, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Oh," groaned Jacqueline, "I shall be in the fields at work, away from
+these cruel people, and the noise and the sight. But, mother, where
+shall you be?"
+
+"With the people, child. With him, if I live. Yes, he is my son; and
+I have never been ashamed of the brave boy. I will not be ashamed
+to-morrow. I will follow John; and when they bind him, I will let him
+see his mother's eyes are on him,--blessing him, my child!--Hark! how
+they talk through the streets!--Jacqueline, he was never a coward. He
+is strong, too. They will not kill him, and they cannot make him dumb.
+He will hold the truth the faster for all they do to him. Jesus Christ
+on his side, do you think he will fear the city, or all Paris, or all
+France? He does not know what it is to be afraid. And when God opened
+his eyes to the truth of his gospel, which the priests had hid, he meant
+that John should work for it,--for he is a working-man, whatever he sets
+about."
+
+So this old woman tried, and not without success, to comfort herself,
+and sustain her tender, proud, maternal heart. The dire extremity into
+which she and her son had fallen did not crush her; few were the tears
+that fell from her eyes as she recalled for Jacqueline the years of her
+son's boyhood,--told her of his courage, as in various ways it had made
+itself manifest: how he had always been fearless in danger,--a
+conqueror of pain,--seemingly regardless of comfort,--fond of
+contemplation,--contented with his humble state,--kindly, affectionate,
+generous, but easily stirred to wrath by injustice, when manifested by
+the strong toward the weak,--or by cruelty, or by falsehood.
+
+Many an anecdote of his career might she relate; for his character,
+under the pressure of this trial, which was as searching and severe a
+test of her faith as of his, seemed to illustrate itself in manifold
+heroic ways, all now of the highest significance. With more majesty and
+grandeur his character arose before her; for now in all the past, as she
+surveyed it, she beheld a living power, a capability, and a necessity of
+new and grand significance, and her heart reverenced the spirit she had
+nursed into being.
+
+Removed to the distance of a prison from her sight, separated from
+her love by bolts and bars, and the wrath of tyranny and close-banded
+bigotry, he became a power, a hero, who moved her, as she recalled
+his sentence, and prophesied the morrow, to a feeling tears could not
+explain.
+
+They passed the night together, the young woman and the old. In the
+morning Jacqueline must go into the field again. She was in haste to go.
+Leaving a kiss on the old woman's cheek, she was about to steal away in
+silence; but as she laid her hand upon the latch, a thought arrested
+her, and she did not open the door, but went back and sat beside the
+window, and watched the mother of Leclerc through the sleep that must be
+brief. It was not in her heart to go away and leave those eyes to waken
+upon solitude. She must see a helpful hand and hopeful face, and, if it
+might be, hear a cheerful human voice, in the dawning of that day.
+
+She had not long to wait, and the time she may have lost in waiting
+Jacqueline did not count or reckon, when she heard her name spoken, and
+could answer, "What wilt thou? here am I."
+
+Not in vain had she lingered. What were wages, more or less, that they
+should be mentioned, thought of, when she might give and receive here
+what the world gives not, and never has to give,--and what a mortal
+cannot buy, the treasure being priceless? Through the quiet of that
+morning hour, soothing words, and strong, she felt and knew to speak;
+and when at last she hurried away from the city to the fields, she was
+stronger than of nature, able to bear witness to the faith that speaks
+from the bewilderment of its distresses, "Though He slay me, yet will I
+trust in Him."
+
+Not alone had her young, frank, loving eyes enlivened the dreary morning
+to the heart of Leclerc's mother. Grace for grace had she received. And
+words of the hymn that were always on John's lips had found echo
+from his mother's memory this morning: they lodged in the heart of
+Jacqueline. She went away repeating,--
+
+ "In the midst of death, the jaws
+ Of hell against us gape.
+ Who from peril dire as this
+ Openeth us escape?
+ 'Tis thou, O Lord, alone!
+ Our bitter suffering and our sin
+ Pity from thy mercy win,
+ Holy Lord and God!
+ Strong and holy God!
+ Merciful and holy Saviour!
+ Eternal God!
+ Let us not despair
+ For the fire that burneth there!
+ Kyrie, eleison!"
+
+Jacqueline met Elsie on her way to the fields. But the girls had
+not much to say to each other that morning in their walk. Elsie was
+manifestly conscious of some great constraint; she might have reported
+to her friend what she had heard in the streets last night, but she
+felt herself prevented from such communication,--seemed to be intent
+principally on one thing: she would not commit herself in any direction.
+She was looking with suspicion upon Jacqueline. Whatever became of her
+soul, her body she would save alive. She was waking to this world's
+enjoyment with vision alert, senses keen. Martyrdom in any degree was
+without attraction to her, and in Truth she saw no beauty that she
+should desire it. It was a root out of dry ground indeed, that gave no
+promise of spreading into goodly shelter and entrancing beauty.
+
+As to Jacqueline, she was absorbed in her heroic and exalted thoughts.
+Her heart had almost failed her when she said farewell to John's mother;
+tearfully she had hurried on her way. One vast cloud hung between her
+and heaven; darkly rolled the river; every face seemed to bear witness
+to the tragedy that day should witness.
+
+Not the least of her affliction was the consciousness of the distance
+increasing between herself and Elsie Méril. She knew that Elsie was
+rejoicing that she had in no way endangered herself yet; and sure was
+she that in no way would Elsie invite the fury of avenging tyranny and
+reckless superstition.
+
+Jacqueline asked her no questions,--spoke few words to her,--was
+absorbed in her own thoughts. But she was kindly in her manner, and
+in such words as she spoke. So Elsie perceived two things,--that she
+should not lose her friend, neither was in danger of being seized by the
+heretical mania. It was her way of drawing inferences. Certain that
+she had not lost her friend, because Jacqueline did not look away, and
+refuse to recognize her; congratulating herself that she was not the
+object of suspicion, either justly or unjustly, among the dreadful
+priests.
+
+But that friend whose steady eye had balanced Elsie was already sick at
+heart, for she knew that never more must she rely upon this girl who
+came with her from Domrémy.
+
+As they crossed the bridge, lingering thereon a moment, the river seemed
+to moan in its flowing toward Meaux. The day's light was sombre; the
+birds' songs had no joyous sound,--plaintive was their chirping; it
+saddened the heart to hear the wind,--it was a wind that seemed to take
+the buoyancy and freshness out of every living thing, an ugly southeast
+wind. They went on together,--to the wheat-fields together;--it was to
+be day of minutes to poor Jacqueline.
+
+To be away from Meaux bodily was, it appeared, only that the imagination
+might have freer exercise. Yes,--now the people must be moving through
+the streets; shopmen were not so intent on profits this day as they were
+on other days. The priests were thinking with vengeful hate of the wrong
+to themselves which should be met and conquered that day. The people
+should be swiftly brought into order again! John in his prison was
+preparing, as all without the prison were.
+
+The crowd was gathering fast. He would soon be led forth. The shameful
+march was forming. Now the brutal hand of Power was lifted with
+scourges. The bravest man in Meaux was driven through the streets,--she
+saw with what a visage,--she knew with what a heart. Her heart was awed
+with thinking thereupon. A bloody mist seemed to fall upon the environs
+of Meaux; through that red horror she could not penetrate; it shrouded
+and it held poor Jacqueline.
+
+Of the faith that would sustain him she began once more to inquire. It
+is not by a bound that mortals ever clear the heights of God. Step by
+step they scale the eminences, toiling through the heavenly atmosphere.
+Only around the summit shines the eternal sun.
+
+So she must now recall the words that Victor Le Roy read for her last
+night; and the words he spoke from out his heart,--these also. And
+she did not fear now, as yesterday, to ask for light. Let the light
+dawn,--oh, let it shine on her!
+
+The mother of Leclerc had uttered mysterious words which Jacqueline took
+for truth; the light was joyful and blessed, and of all things to be
+desired, though it smote the life from one like lightning. She waited
+alone with faith, watching till it should come,--left alone with this
+beam glimmering like a moth through darkness!--for thus was a believer,
+or one who resolved on believing, left in that day, when he turned from
+the machinery of the Church, and stood alone, searching for God without
+the aid of priestly intervention.
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+There was something awful in such loneliness.
+
+Jacqueline knew little of it until now, as she walked toward the fields,
+by the side of Elsie Méril.
+
+She saw how she had depended on the priest of Domrémy, as he had been
+the lawgiver and the leader of her life. A spiritual life, to be
+sustained only by the invisible spirit, to be lived by faith, not in
+man, but in God, without intervention of saint or angel or Blessed
+Virgin,--was the world's life liberated by such freedom?
+
+By faith, and not by sight, the just must live. Would He bow his heavens
+and come down to dwell with the contrite and the humble?
+
+Wondrous strange it seemed,--incomprehensible,--more than she could
+manage or control. There are prisoners whose pardon proves the world too
+large for them: they find no rest until their prison-door is opened for
+them again.
+
+Of this class was Elsie,--not Jacqueline. Elsie was afraid of
+freedom,--not equal to it,--unable to deal with it; satisfied with being
+a child, with being a slave, when it came to be a question whether she
+should accept and use her highest privilege and dignity. At this hour,
+and among all persuasions, you will find that Elsie does not stand
+alone. Little children there are, long as the world shall stand,--though
+not precisely such as we think of when we remember, "Of such is the
+kingdom of heaven."
+
+It was enough for Elsie--it is enough for multitudes through all the
+reformations--that she had an earthly defence, even such as she relied
+on without trouble. She lived in the hour. She had never toiled to
+deliver her darling from the lions,--to redeem a soul from purgatory.
+She eased her conscience, when it was troubled, by such shallow
+discovery of herself as she deemed confession. She loved dancing,
+and all other amusements,--hated solitude, knew not the meaning of
+self-abnegation. And let her dance and enjoy herself!--some service
+to the body is rendered thereby. She might do greatly worse, and
+is incapable of doing greatly better. Will you stint the idiots of
+comfort,--or rather build them decent habitations, and even vex yourself
+to feed and clothe them, in reverent confidence that the Future shall
+surely take them up and bless them, unstop their ears, open their eyes,
+give speech to them and absolute deliverance?
+
+There are others beside Elsie who congratulate themselves on
+non-committal,--they covet not the advanced and dangerous positions.
+Honorable, but dangerous positions! The head might be taken off, do you
+not see? And could all eternity compensate for the loss of time? Ah, the
+body might be mutilated,--the liberty restrained: as if, indeed, a
+man's freedom were not eternally established, when his enemies, howling
+around, must at least crucify him! as if a divine voice were not ever
+heard through the raging of the people, saying, "Come up higher!"
+
+But a fern-leaf cannot grow into a mighty hemlock-tree. From the ashes
+of a sparrow the phoenix shall not rise. You will not to all eternity,
+by any artificial means, nor by a miracle, bring forth an eagle from a
+mollusk.
+
+There was not a sadder heart in all those fields of Meaux than the heart
+of Jacqueline Gabrie. There was not a stronger heart. Not a hand
+labored more diligently. Under the broad-brimmed peasant-hat was a sad
+countenance,--under the peasant-dress a heavily burdened spirit. Silent,
+all day, she labored. She was alone at noon under the river-bordered
+trees, eating her coarse fare without zest, but with a conscience,--to
+sustain the body that was born to toil. But in the maelström of doubt
+and anxiety was she tossed and whirled, and she cared not for her life.
+To be rid of it, now for the first time, she felt might be a blessing.
+What purpose, indeed, had she? She turned her thought from this
+question, but it would not let her alone. Again and yet again she turned
+to meet it, and thus would surely have at length its satisfying answer.
+
+John Leclerc might pass through this ordeal, as from the first she
+had expected of him. But she listened to the speech of many of her
+fellow-laborers. Some prophecies which had a sound incredible escaped
+them. She did not credit them, but they tormented her. They contended
+with one another. John, some foretold, would certainly retract. One day
+of public whipping would suffice. When the blood began to flow, he would
+see his duty clearer! The men were prophesying from the depths and the
+abundance of their self-consciousness. Others speculated on the final
+result of the executed sentence. They believed that the "obstinacy" and
+courage of the man would provoke his judges, and the executors of his
+sentence,--that with rigor they would execute it,--and that, led on
+by passion, and provoked by such as would side with the victim, the
+sentence would terminate in his destruction. Sooner or later, nothing
+but his life would be found ultimately to satisfy his enemies.
+
+It might be so, thought Jacqueline Gabrie. What then? what then?--she
+thought. There was inspiration to the girl in that cruel prophecy. Her
+lifework was not ended. If Christ was the One Ransom, and it did truly
+fall on Him, and not on her, to care for those beloved, departed from
+this life, her work was still for love.
+
+John Leclerc disabled or dead, who should care then for his aged mother?
+Who should minister to him? Who, indeed, but Jacqueline?
+
+Living or dying, she said to herself, with grand enthusiasm,--living or
+dying, let him do the Master's pleasure! She also was here to serve that
+Master; and while in spiritual things he fed the hungry, clothed the
+naked, gave the cup of living water, visited the imprisoned, and the
+sick of sin, she would bind herself to minister to him and his old
+mother in temporal things; so should he live above all cares save those
+of heavenly love. She could support them all by her diligence, and in
+this there would be joy.
+
+She thought this through her toil; and the thought was its own reward.
+It strengthened her like an angel,--strengthened heart and faith. She
+labored as no other peasant-woman did that day,--like a beast of burden,
+unresisting, patient,--like a holy saint, so peaceful and assured, so
+conscious of the present very God!
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+MIDSUMMER.
+
+
+ Around this lovely valley rise
+ The purple hills of Paradise.
+ Oh, softly on yon banks of haze
+ Her rosy face the Summer lays!
+ Becalmed along the azure sky,
+ The argosies of cloudland lie,
+ Whose shores, with many a shining rift,
+ Far off their pearl-white peaks uplift.
+
+ Through all the long midsummer-day
+ The meadow-sides are sweet with hay.
+ I seek the coolest sheltered seat
+ Just where the field and forest meet,--
+ Where grow the pine-trees tall and bland,
+ The ancient oaks austere and grand,
+ And fringy roots and pebbles fret
+ The ripples of the rivulet.
+
+ I watch, the mowers as they go
+ Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved row;
+ With even stroke their scythes they swing,
+ In tune their merry whetstones ring;
+ Behind the nimble youngsters run
+ And toss the thick swaths in the sun;
+ The cattle graze; while, warm and still,
+ Slopes the broad pasture, basks the hill,
+ And bright, when summer breezes break,
+ The green wheat crinkles like a lake.
+
+ The butterfly and humble-bee
+ Come to the pleasant woods with me;
+ Quickly before me runs the quail,
+ The chickens skulk behind the rail,
+ High up the lone wood-pigeon sits,
+ And the woodpecker pecks and flits.
+ Sweet woodland music sinks and swells,
+ The brooklet rings its tinkling bells,
+ The swarming insects drone and hum,
+ The partridge beats his throbbing drum.
+ The squirrel leaps among the boughs,
+ And chatters in his leafy house.
+ The oriole flashes by; and, look!
+ Into the mirror of the brook,
+ Where the vain blue-bird trims his coat,
+ Two tiny feathers fall and float.
+
+ As silently, as tenderly,
+ The down of peace descends on me.
+ Oh, this is peace! I have no need
+ Of friend to talk, of book to read:
+ A dear Companion here abides;
+ Close to my thrilling heart He hides;
+ The holy silence is His Voice:
+ I lie and listen, and rejoice.
+
+
+
+
+TOBACCO.
+
+
+"Tobacco, divine, rare, superexcellent tobacco, which goes far beyond all
+the panaceas, potable gold, and philosopher's stones, a sovereign remedy
+to all diseases! a good vomit, I confess, a virtuous herb, if it be well
+qualified, opportunely taken, and medicinally used. But as it is commonly
+abused by most men, which take it as tinkers do ale, 'tis a plague, a
+mischief, a violent purger of goods, lauds, health: hellish, devilish, and
+damned tobacco, the ruin and overthrow of body and soul!"--BURTON. _Anatomy
+of Melancholy_.
+
+A delicate subject? Very true; and one which must be handled as tenderly
+as _biscuit de Sèvres_, or Venetian glass. Whichever side of the
+question we may assume, as the most popular, or the most right, the
+feelings of so large and respectable a minority are to be consulted,
+that it behooves the critic or reviewer to move cautiously, and,
+imitating the actions of a certain feline household reformer, to show
+only the _patte de velours_.
+
+The omniscient Burton seems to have reached the pith of the matter. The
+two hostile sections of his proposition, though written so long since,
+would very well fit the smoker and the reformer of to-day. That portion
+of the world which is enough advanced to advocate reforms is entirely
+divided against itself on the subject of Tobacco. Immense interests,
+economical, social, and, as some conceive, moral, are arrayed on either
+side. The reformers have hitherto had the better of it in point of
+argument, and have pushed the attack with most vigor, yet with but
+trifling results. Smokers and chewers, _et id omne genus_, mollified
+by their habits, or laboring under guilty consciences, have made but a
+feeble defence. Nor in all this is there anything new. It is as old as
+the knowledge of the "weed" among thinking men,--in other words, about
+three centuries. The English adventurers under Drake and Raleigh and
+Hawkins, and the multitude of minor Protestant "filibusters" who
+followed in their train, had no sooner imported the habit of smoking
+tobacco, among the other outlandish customs which they brought home from
+the new Indies and the Spanish Main, than the higher powers rebuked
+the practice, which novelty and its own fascinations were rendering so
+fashionable, in language more forcible than elegant. The philippic of
+King James is so apposite that we may be pardoned for transcribing one
+oft-quoted sentence:--"But herein is not only a great vanity, but a
+great contempt of God's good gifts, that the sweetness of man's breath,
+being a good gift of God, should be wilfully corrupted by this stinking
+smoke.... A custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmfull
+to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume
+thereof neerest resembling the horrible Stygian smoake of the pit that
+is bottomless."[a]
+
+[Footnote a: _Counterblast to Tobacco_.]
+
+The Popes Urban VIII. and Innocent XII. fulminated edicts of
+excommunication against all who used tobacco in any form; from which we
+may conclude that the new habit was spreading rapidly over Christendom.
+And not only the successors of St. Peter, but those also of the Prophet,
+denounced the practice, the Sultan Amurath IV. making it punishable with
+death. The Viziers of Turkey spitted the noses of smokers with their own
+pipes; the more considerate Shah of Persia cut them entirely off. The
+knout greeted in Russia the first indulgence, and death followed the
+second offence. In some of the Swiss cantons smoking was considered a
+crime second only to adultery. Modern republics are not quite so severe.
+
+It is not to be supposed that in England the royal pamphlet had its
+desired effect. For we find that James laid many rigid sumptuary
+restrictions upon the practice which he abominated, based chiefly upon
+the extravagance it occasioned,--the expenses of some smokers being
+estimated at several hundred pounds a year. The King, however, had the
+sagacity to secure a preëmption-right as early as 1620.
+
+Yet how could the practice but have increased, when, as Malcolm relates
+the tradition, such men as Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Hugh Middleton
+sat smoking at their doors?--for "the public manner in which it was
+exhibited, and the aromatic flavor inhaled by the passengers, exclusive
+of the singularity of the circumstance and the eminence of the parties,"
+could hardly have failed to favor its dissemination.
+
+The silver-tongued Joshua Sylvester hoped to aid the royal cause by
+writing a poem entitled, "Tobacco battered, and the pipes shattered,
+(about their ears who idly idolize so base and barbarous a weed, or at
+least-wise overlove so loathsome a vanity,) by a volley of holy shot
+thundered from Mount Helicon." If the smoothness of the verses equalled
+the euphony of the title, this must have proved a moving appeal.
+
+Stow contents himself with calling tobacco "a stinking weed, so much
+abused to God's dishonor."
+
+Burton exhausts the subject in a single paragraph. Ben Jonson, though
+a jolly good fellow, was opposed to the habit of smoking. But Spenser
+mentions "divine tobacco." Walton's "Piscator" indulges in a pipe at
+breakfast, and "Venator" has his tobacco brought from London to insure
+its purity. Sweet Izaak could have selected no more soothing minister
+than the pipe to the "contemplative man's recreation."
+
+As the new sedative gains in esteem, we find Francis Quarles, in his
+"Emblems," treating it in this serio-comic vein:--
+
+ "Flint-hearted Stoics, you whose marble eyes
+ Contemn a wrinkle, and whose souls despise
+ To follow Nature's too affected fashion,
+ Or travel in the regent walk of passion,--
+ Whose rigid hearts disdain to shrink at
+ fears,
+ Or play at fast-and-loose with smiles and
+ tears,--
+ Come, burst your spleens with laughter to
+ behold
+ A new-found vanity, which days of old
+ Ne'er knew,--a vanity that has beset
+ The world, and made more slaves than Mahomet,--
+ That has condemned us to the servile yoke
+ Of slavery, and made us slaves to smoke,
+ But stay! why tax I thus our modern
+ times
+ For new-born follies and for new-born
+ crimes?
+ Are we sole guilty, and the first age free?
+ No: they were smoked and slaved as well
+ as we.
+ What's sweet-lipped honor's blast, but
+ smoke? what's treasure,
+ But very smoke? and what's more smoke
+ than pleasure?"
+
+Brand gives us the whole matter in a nutshell, in the following quaint
+epigram, entitled "A Tobacconist," taken from an old collection:--
+
+ "All dainty meats I do defy
+ Which feed men fat as swine;
+ He is a frugal man, indeed,
+ That on a leaf can dine.
+
+ "He needs no napkin for his hands
+ His fingers' ends to wipe,
+ That keeps his kitchen in a box,
+ And roast meat in a pipe."
+
+And so on, the singers of succeeding years, _usque ad nauseam_,--a
+loathing equalled only by that of the earlier writers for the plant, now
+so lauded.
+
+Tobacco-worship seems to us to culminate in the following stanza from a
+German song:--
+
+ "Tabak ist mein Leben,
+ Dem hab' ich mich ergeben, ergeben;
+ Tabak ist meine Lust.
+ Und eh' ich ihn sollt' lassen,
+ Viel lieber wollt' ich hassen,
+ Ja, hassen selbst eines Mädchens Kuss."
+
+As it is with your sex, my dear Madam, that this question of Tobacco is
+to be mainly argued,--for, to your honor be it spoken, you have always
+been of the reformatory party,--let us hope, that, provided you have
+not read or translated the last verse, you have recovered your natural
+amiability, ruffled perhaps by this odious subject, and are prepared
+to believe us when we tell you that these opposite opinions cannot be
+wholly reconciled, and to follow us patiently while we attempt to show
+that a certain gentleman, introduced to your maternal ancestor at a very
+remote period of the world's history, is not so black as he is sometimes
+painted. Let us keep good-natured, at least, in this discussion; for we
+propose to settle it without taking off the gloves, as we intimated in
+the opening paragraph. Your patience will be much needed for the sad
+army of facts and figures which is to follow. Therefore it is but just
+that you should speak now, after these long sentences.
+
+Your George will never smoke? Excuse me. _When_ he will smoke depends
+upon the precocity of his individual generation; and that increases in
+a direct ratio with time itself, in this country. Thus, to state the
+matter in an approximate inverse arithmetical progression, and dating
+the birth of "young America" about the year 1825,--previously to which
+reigned the dark ages of oldfogydom, so called,--we find as follows:
+--From 1825 to 1835, young gentlemen learned to smoke when from 25 to 20
+years of age; from 1835 to 1845, young _gents_, ditto, ditto, from 20 to
+15 years; 1845 to 1855, from 15 to 10; 1855 to 1865, 10 to 5; 1865 to
+1875, 5 to 0; and, if we continue, 1875 to 1885, zero to minus: but
+really the question is becoming too nebulous. _Corollary_. In about ten
+years, the youth of the United States will smoke contemporaneously with
+the infant Burmese, who, we are credibly informed, begin the habit
+_aet_. 3, or as soon as they have cut enough teeth to hold a cigar.
+
+Therefore, we will say, Madam, at some indefinite period of his
+childhood or youth,--for we would not be so impolite as to infer your
+age by asking that of your son,--the _susdit_ George will come home
+late from play some afternoon, languid, pale, and disinclined for tea.
+He will indignantly repel the accusation of feeling ill, and there will
+lurk about his person an indescribable odor of stale cinnamon, which
+you will be at a loss to account for, but which his elder brother will
+recognize as the natural result of smoking "cinnamon cigars," wherewith
+certain wicked tobacconists of this city tempt curious youth. If you
+follow him to his chamber, you will probably discover more damning
+evidence of his guilt.
+
+We will draw the curtain over the scene of the Spartan mother--we hope
+you belong to that nearly extinct class--which is to follow. Let us
+suppose all differences settled, the habit ostensibly given up, and your
+darling, grown more honest or more artful,--the result is the same to
+your blissful ignorance,--studiously pursuing his way until he enters
+college. Some fine day you drive over to the neighboring university,
+and, entering his room unannounced, you find him coloring his first
+(factitious) meerschaum!--also a sad deficiency in his wardrobe of
+half-worn clothes. _C'est une pipe qui coûte cher à culotter_, the
+college meerschaum,--and in more ways than one, according to the
+"Autocrat":--"I do not advise you, young man, to consecrate the flower
+of your life to painting the bowl of a pipe," _et seq_. More bold,
+the Sophomore will smoke openly at home; and by the end of the third
+vacation, it is one of those unyielding _faits accomplis_ against which
+reformers, household or peripatetic, beat their heads in vain.
+
+Perhaps your husband smokes? If so, at what period of the twenty-four
+hours have you invariably found Mr. ---- most lenient to your little
+pecuniary peccadilloes? Is he not always most good-natured when his
+cigar is about one-third consumed, the ash evenly burnt and adherent,
+and not fallen into his shirt-bosom? Depend upon it, tobacco is a great
+soother of domestic differences.
+
+Let us, then, look an existing, firmly rooted evil--if you will call it
+so--in the face, and see if it is quite so bad as it is represented. It
+is too wide-spread to be sneered away,--for we might almost say that
+smokers were the rule, and non-smokers the exception, among all
+civilized men, Charles Kingsley supports us here:--"'Man a cooking
+animal,' my dear Doctor Johnson? Pooh! man is a _smoking_ animal.
+There is his _ergon_, his 'differential energy,' as the Aristotelians
+say,--his true distinction from the orangoutang. Ponder it well."
+
+_Query_.--What did the old Roman do without a cigar? How idle through
+the day? How survive his interminable _post-coenal_ potations?--The
+thought is not our own. It occurs somewhere in De Quincey, we believe.
+It is one of those self-evident propositions you wonder had not occurred
+to you before.--What an accessory of luxury the pipe would have been
+to him who passed the livelong day under the mosaic arches of the
+_Thermoe_! The _strigiles_ would have vanished before the meerschaum,
+had that magic clay then been known. How completely would the _hookah_
+and the _narghileh_ have harmonized with the _crater, cyathi_, and
+tripods of the _triclinium_ in that portraiture of the "Decadence of
+Rome" which hangs in the Luxembourg Gallery! Poor fellows! they managed
+to exist without them.
+
+Though pipes are found carved on very old sculptures in China, and the
+habit of smoking was long since extensively followed there, according
+to Pallas, and although certain species of the tobacco-plant, as the
+_Nicotiana rustica_, would appear to be indigenous to the country, yet
+we have the best reason to conclude that America, if not the exclusive
+home of the herb, was the birthplace of its use by man. The first great
+explorer of the West found the sensuous natives of Hispaniola rolling up
+and smoking tobacco-leaves with the same persistent indolence that
+we recognize in the Cuban of the present day. Rough Cortés saw with
+surprise the luxurious Aztec composing himself for the _siesta_ in the
+middle of the day as invariably as his fellow Dons in Castile. But he
+was amazed that the barbarians had discovered in tobacco a sedative
+to promote their reveries and compose them to sleep, of which the
+_hidalgos_ were as yet ignorant, but which they were soon to appropriate
+with avidity, and to use with equal zest. Humboldt says that it had been
+cultivated by the people of Orinoco from time immemorial, and was smoked
+all over America at the time of the Spanish Conquest,--also that it was
+first discovered by Europeans in Yucatan, in 1520, and was there called
+_Petum_. Tobacco, according to the same authority, was taken from the
+word _tabac_, the name of an instrument used in the preparation of the
+herb.
+
+Though Columbus and his immediate followers doubtless brought home
+specimens of tobacco among the other spoils of the New World, Jean
+Nicot, ambassador to Portugal from Francis II., first sent the seeds
+to France, where they were cultivated and used about the year 1560. In
+honor of its sponsor, Botany has named the plant _Nicotiana tabacum_,
+and Chemistry distinguished as _Nicotin_ its active alkaloid. Sir
+Francis Drake first brought tobacco to England about 1586. It owed
+the greater part of its early popularity, however, to the praise and
+practice of Raleigh: his high standing and character would have sufficed
+to introduce still more novel customs. The weed once inhaled, the habit
+once acquired, its seductions would not allow it to be easily laid
+aside; and we accordingly find that royal satire, public odium, and
+ruinous cost were alike inadequate to restrain its rapidly increasing
+consumption. Somewhere about the year 1600 or 1601 tobacco was carried
+to the East, and introduced among the Turks and Persians,--it is not
+known by whom: the devotion of modern Mussulmans might reasonably
+ascribe it to Allah himself. It seems almost incredible that the
+Oriental type of life and character could have existed without tobacco.
+The pipe seems as inseparable as the Koran from the follower of Mahomet.
+
+Barely three centuries ago, then, the first seeds of the _Nicotiana
+tabacum_ germinated in European soil: now, who shall count the harvests?
+Less than three centuries ago, Raleigh attracted a crowd by sitting
+smoking at his door: now, the humblest bog-trotter of Ireland must
+be poor indeed who cannot own or borrow a pipe. A little more than a
+century and a half ago, the import into Great Britain was only one
+hundred and twenty thousand pounds, and part of that was reëxported:
+now, the imports reach thirty million pounds, and furnish to government
+a revenue of twenty millions of dollars,--being an annual tax of three
+shillings four pence on every soul in the United Kingdom. Nor is the
+case of England an exceptional one. The tobacco-zone girdles the globe.
+From the equator, through fifty degrees of latitude, it grows and is
+consumed on every continent. On every sea it is carried and used by the
+mariners of every nation. Its incense rises in every clime, as from one
+vast altar dedicated to its worship,--before which ancient holocausts,
+the smoke of burnt-offerings in the old Jewish rites, the censers of the
+Church, and the joss-sticks of the East, must "pale their ineffectual
+fires." All classes, all ages, in all climates, and in some countries
+both sexes, use tobacco to dispel heat, to resist cold, to soothe
+to reverie, or to arouse the brain, according to their national
+habitations, peculiarities, or habits.
+
+This is not the language of hyperbole. With a partial exception in favor
+of the hop, tobacco is the _sole recognized narcotic_ of civilization.
+Opium and hemp, if indulged in, are concealed, by the Western nations:
+public opinion, public morality, are at war with them. Not so with
+tobacco, which the majority of civilized men use, and the minority
+rather deprecate than denounce. We shall avail ourselves of some
+statistics and computations, which we find ready-calculated, at various
+sources, to support these assertions. The following are the amounts of
+tobacco consumed _per head_ in various countries:--
+
+"In Great Britain, 17 ounces per head; in France, 18 1/2
+ounces,--three-eighths of this quantity being used in the form of snuff;
+in Denmark, 70 ounces (4 1/2 lbs.) per head; and in Belgium, 73 1/2
+ounces per head;--in New South Wales, where there are no duties, by
+official returns, 14 pounds per head." We doubt if these quantities
+much exceed the European average, particularly of Germany and Turkey in
+Europe. "In some of the States of North America the proportion is much
+larger, while among Eastern nations, where there are no duties, it is
+believed to be greater still."
+
+The average for the whole human race of one thousand millions has been
+reasonably set at seventy ounces per head; which gives a total produce
+and consumption of tobacco of two millions of tons, or 4,480,000,000 of
+pounds! "At eight hundred pounds an acre, this would require five and
+a half million acres of rich land to be kept constantly under
+tobacco-cultivation."
+
+"The whole amount of wheat consumed by the inhabitants of Great Britain
+weighs only four and one-third million tons." The reader can draw his
+own inferences.
+
+The United States are among the largest producers of tobacco, furnishing
+one-twentieth of the estimated production of the whole world. According
+to the last census, we raised in 1850 about two hundred million pounds.
+All the States, with five exceptions,--and two of these are Utah and
+Minnesota,--shared, in various degrees, in the growth of this great
+staple. Confining our attention to those which raised a million of
+pounds and upwards, we find Connecticut and Indiana cited at one million
+each; Ohio and North Carolina, at ten to twelve millions; Missouri,
+Tennessee, and Maryland, from seventeen to twenty-one millions; Kentucky
+and Virginia, about fifty-six million pounds.
+
+Of this gross two hundred million pounds, we export one hundred and
+twenty-two millions, leaving about seventy-eight millions for home
+consumption.
+
+Not satisfied with the quality of this modest amount, we import also,
+from Cuba, Turkey, Germany, etc., about four million pounds, in Havana
+and Manila cigars and Turkish and German manufactured smoking-tobacco.
+Thus we increase the total of our consumption to eighty-two million
+pounds, which gives about three pounds eight ounces to every inhabitant
+of the United States, against seventeen ounces in England, and eighteen
+ounces in France. From 1840 to 1850, the consumption in the United
+States, per head, increased from two pounds and half an ounce to three
+pounds eight ounces. Here, we buy our tobacco at a fair profit to the
+producer. In most of the countries of Europe it is either subject to
+a high tax, or made a government monopoly, both as regards its
+cultivation, and its manufacture and sale. France consumes about
+forty-one million pounds, and the imperial exchequer is thereby enriched
+eighty-six million francs _per annum_. Not only is the poor man thus
+obliged to pay an excessive price, but the tobacco furnished him is of
+a much inferior quality to ours. "_Petit-caporal_" smoking-tobacco, the
+delight of the middling classes of Paris, hardly suits an American's
+taste. In Italy more than one _pubblicano_ has enriched himself and
+bought nobility by farming the public revenues from tobacco and salt. In
+Austria the cigars are detestable, though Hungary grows good tobacco,
+and its Turkish border furnishes some of the meerschaum clay. German
+smoking-tobaccoes are favorites with students here, but owe their
+excellence to their mode of manufacture.
+
+Tobacco, according to some authorities, holds the next place to salt,
+as the article most universally and largely used by man,--we mean,
+of course, apart from cereals and meats. It is unquestionably the
+widest-used narcotic. Opium takes the second rank, and hemp the third;
+but the opium--and hashish-eaters usually add the free smoking of
+tobacco to their other indulgences.
+
+From these great columns of consumption we may logically deduce two
+prime points for our argument.
+
+1st. That an article so widely used must possess some peculiar quality
+producing _a desirable effect_.
+
+2d. That an article so widely used cannot produce _any marked
+deleterious effect_.
+
+For it must meet some instinctive craving of the human being,--as bread
+and salt meet his absolute needs,--to be so widely sought after and
+consumed. Fashion does not rule this habit, but it is equally grateful
+to the savage and the sage. And it cannot be so ruinous to body and mind
+as some reformers assert; otherwise, in the natural progress of causes
+and effects, whole nations must have already been extinguished under
+its use. Many mighty nations have used it for centuries, and show no
+aggregated deterioration from its employment. Individual exceptions
+exist in every community. They arise either from idiosyncrasy or from
+excess, and they have no weight in the argument.
+
+Now, what are these qualities and these effects? We can best answer the
+first part of the question by a quotation.
+
+"In ministering fully to his natural wants and cravings, man passes
+through three successive stages.
+
+"First, the necessities of his material nature are provided for. Beef
+and bread represent the means by which, in every country, this end is
+attained. And among the numerous forms of animal and vegetable food a
+wonderful similarity of chemical composition prevails.
+
+"Second, he seeks to assuage the cares of his mind, and to banish
+uneasy reflections. Fermented liquors are the agents by which this is
+effected." [They are variously produced by every people, and the active
+principle is in all the same, namely, Alcohol.]
+
+"Third, he desires to multiply his enjoyments, intellectual and animal,
+and for the time to exalt them. This he attains by the aid of narcotics.
+And of these narcotics, again, it is remarkable that almost every
+country or tribe has its own, either aboriginal or imported; so that
+the universal instinct of the race has led, somehow or other, to the
+universal supply of this want or craving also."
+
+These narcotics are Opium, Hemp, the Betel, Coca, Thorn-Apple, Siberian
+Fungus, Hops, Lettuce, Tobacco. The active principles vary in each, thus
+differing from foods and stimulants. Our business is now to inquire into
+the chemical constituents of tobacco.
+
+The leaves of this plant owe their properties to certain invariable
+active principles, which chemistry has enabled us to separate from those
+ingredients which are either inert or common to it and other forms of
+vegetation. They are two in number,--a volatile alkali, and a volatile
+oil, called _nicotin_ and _nicotianin_, respectively. A third powerful
+constituent is developed by combustion, which is named the _empyreumatic
+oil_.
+
+Starch, gum, albumen, resin, lignin, extractive, and organic acids exist
+in tobacco, as they do, in varying proportions, in other plants. But
+the herb under consideration contains a relatively larger proportion of
+inorganic salts, as those of lime, potassa, and ammonia,--and especially
+of highly nitrogenized substances; which explains why tobacco is
+so exhausting a crop to the soil, and why ashes are among its best
+fertilizers.
+
+The organic base, _nicotin_, (or _nicotia_, as some chemists prefer to
+call it,) exists in tobacco combined with an acid in excess, and in this
+state is not volatile. As obtained by distillation with caustic soda,
+and afterwards treated with sulphuric acid, etc., it is a colorless
+fluid, volatilizable, inflammable, of little smell when cold, but of an
+exceedingly acrid, burning taste, and alkaline. Nicotia contains a much
+larger proportion of nitrogen than most of the other organic alkalies.
+In its action on the animal system it is one of the most virulent
+poisons known. It exists in varying, though small proportion, in all
+species of tobacco. Those called mild, and most esteemed, seem to
+contain the least. Thus, according to Orfila, Havana tobacco yields two
+per cent of the alkaloid, and Virginia nearly seven per cent. In the
+rankest varieties it rarely exceeds eight parts to the hundred. The
+same toxicologist says that it has the remarkable property of resisting
+decomposition in the decaying tissues of the body, and he detected it in
+the bodies of animals destroyed by it, several months after their death.
+In this particular it resembles arsenic.
+
+_Nicotianin_, or the volatile oil, is probably the odorous principle of
+tobacco. According to some, it does not exist in the fresh leaves, but
+is generated in the drying process. When obtained by distillation, a
+pound of leaves will yield only two grains; it is therefore in a much
+smaller proportion than the alkaloid, forming only one half of one per
+cent. It is a fatty substance, having the odor of tobacco-smoke, and
+a bitter taste. Applied to the nose, it occasions sneezing, and taken
+internally, giddiness and nausea. It is therefore one of the active
+constituents of tobacco, though to a much less degree than nicotin
+itself. For while Hermstadt swallowed a grain of nicotianin with
+impunity, the vapor of pure nicotin is so irritating that it is
+difficult to breathe in a room in which a single drop has been
+evaporated.
+
+When distilled in a retort, at a temperature above that of boiling
+water, or burned, as we burn it in a pipe, tobacco affords its third
+poison, the _empyreumatic oil_. This is acrid, of a dark brown
+color, and having a smell as of an old pipe, in the pores of which,
+particularly of meerschaum clay, it may be found. It is also narcotic
+and very poisonous, one drop killing reptiles, as if by an electric
+shock: in this mode of action it is like prussic acid. But this
+empyreumatic oil consists of two substances; for, if it be washed with
+acetic acid, it loses its poisonous quality. It contains, therefore, a
+harmless oil, and a poisonous alkaline substance, which the acetic acid
+combines with and removes. It has been shown to contain the alkaloid
+nicotia, and this is probably its only active component.
+
+Assuming, therefore, that nicotianin, from its feebler action and small
+amount, is not a very efficient principle in producing the narcotic
+effects of tobacco, and that the empyreumatic oil consists only of fatty
+matters holding the alkali in solution, we are forced to believe that
+the only constituent worthy of much attention, as the very soul and
+essence of the plant, is the organic base, nicotin, or nicotia.
+
+It is probable that the tobacco-chewer, by putting fifty grains of the
+"Solace," "Honey-Dew," or "Cavendish" into his mouth for the purpose
+of mastication, introduces at the same time from one to four grains of
+nicotin with it, according to the quality of the tobacco he uses. It
+is _not_ probable that anything like this amount is absorbed into the
+system. Nature protects itself by salivation. It is possible, that, in
+smoking one hundred grains of tobacco, there _may_ be drawn into
+the mouth two grains or more of the same poison; "for, as nicotin
+volatilizes at a temperature below that of burning tobacco, it is
+constantly present in the smoke." It is not probable that here, again,
+so much is absorbed.
+
+But we will return to this question of the relative effects of chewing,
+cigar- and pipe-smoking, and snuff-taking, presently. For we suppose
+that the anxious mother, if she has followed us so far, is by this time
+in considerable alarm at this wholesale poisoning.
+
+Poisons are to be judged by their effects; for this is the only means we
+have of knowing them to be such. And if a poison is in common use, we
+must embrace all the results of such use in a perfect generalization
+before we can decide impartially. We do not hesitate to eat peaches,
+though we know they owe much of their peculiar flavor to prussic acid.
+It is but fair to apply an equally large generalization to tobacco.
+Chemistry can concentrate the sapid and odorous elements of the peach
+and the bitter almond into a transparent fluid, of which the smell
+shall be vertiginous and the taste death. But chemistry is often
+misunderstood, in two ways: in the one case, by the incredulity of total
+ignorance; in the other, by the overcredulity of imperfect knowledge.
+That poor woman who murdered her husband by arsenic not long since
+was an instance of the first. She laughed to scorn the idea that the
+chemists could discover anything in the ejected contents of the stomach
+of her victim, which she voluntarily left in their way. She could not
+conceive that the scattered crystals of the fatal powder might be
+gathered into a metallic mirror, the first glance at which would reflect
+her guilt.
+
+They who gape, horror-struck, at the endless revelations of chemistry,
+without giving reason time to act, err in the second manner. Led away by
+the brilliant hues and wonderful transformations of the laboratory,
+they forget the size of the world outside, in which these changes are
+enacted, and the quiet way in which Nature works. The breath of chlorine
+is deadly, but we daily eat it in safety, wrapped in its poison-proof
+envelope of sodium, as common salt. Carbonic acid is among the gases
+most hostile to man, but he drinks it in soda-water or Champagne with
+impunity. So we cannot explain how a poison will act, if introduced
+into the body in the diluted form in which Nature offers it, and there
+subjected to the complicated chemico-vital processes which constitute
+life.
+
+In the alembic of the chemist we may learn analysis, and from it infer,
+but not imitate, save in a few instances, the synthesis of Nature.
+Changes in the arrangement of atoms, without one particle altered that
+we can discover, may make all the difference between starch and sugar.
+By an obscure change, which we call fermentation, these may become
+alcohol, the great stimulant of the world. By subtracting one atom of
+water from its elements we change this to ether, the new-found _lethe_
+of pain. As from the inexhaustible bottle of the magician, the chemist
+can furnish us from the same two elements air or aquafortis. We may be
+pardoned these familiar examples to prove that we must not judge of
+things by their palpable qualities, when concentrated or in the gross.
+That fiery demon, nitric acid, is hid, harmless in its imperceptible
+subdivision, in the dew on every flower.
+
+From all this we conclude that the evil effects of tobacco are to be
+determined by their proved _physiological_ effects; and also that we
+must aid our decision by a survey of its general asserted effects. In
+treating of these effects, we shall speak, first, of what is known;
+second, of what its opponents assert; and, third, of what we claim as
+the results of its use.
+
+What is absolutely known is very little. We see occasional instances of
+declining health; we learn that the sufferers smoke or chew, and we are
+very apt to ascribe all their maladies to tobacco. So far as we are
+aware, the most notorious organic lesion which has been supposed due to
+this practice is a peculiar form of cancer of the lip, where the pipe,
+and particularly the clay pipe, has pressed upon the part. But more
+ample statistics have disproved this theory.
+
+We have as yet become acquainted with no satisfactory series of
+experiments upon tobacco analogous to those which have been made of some
+articles of food.
+
+The opponents of tobacco, upon whom we consider the burden of proof to
+rest, in the absence of any marked ill effects palpable in so large a
+consumption of the herb, are thus reduced to generalities.
+
+Tobacco is said to produce derangement of the digestion, and of the
+regular, steady action of the nervous system. These effects must be in a
+measure connected; but one distinct effect of tobacco is claimed, upon
+the secretions of the mouth, with which it comes into direct contact.
+It is said to cause a waste and a deterioration of the saliva. Let us
+examine this first.
+
+The waste of saliva in young smokers and in immoderate chewers we admit.
+The amount secreted by a healthy man has been variously estimated at
+from one and a half to three pounds _per diem_. And it certainly seems
+as if the whole of this was to be found upon the vile floors of
+cars, hotels, and steamboats. The quantity secreted varies much with
+circumstances; but experiments prove the _quality_ to be not affected by
+the amount.
+
+To show how the deterioration of this fluid may affect digestion, we
+must inquire into its normal physiological constitution and uses. Its
+uses are of two kinds: to moisten the food, and to convert starch into
+sugar. The larger glands fulfil the former; the smaller, mostly, the
+latter office. Almost any substance held in the mouth provokes the flow
+of saliva by mechanical irritation. Mental causes influence it; for the
+thought of food will "make the mouth water," as well as its presence
+within the lips. No one who has tried to eat unmoistened food, when
+thirsty, will dispute its uses as a solvent. Tobacco seems to be a
+direct stimulant to the salivary apparatus. Habit blunts this effect
+only to a limited extent. The old smoker has usually some increase of
+this secretion, although he does not expectorate. But if he does not
+waste this product, he swallows it, it is said, in a state unfit to
+promote digestion. The saliva owes its peculiarity to one of its
+components, called _ptyalin_. And this element possesses the remarkable
+power of converting starch into sugar, which is the first step in its
+digestion. Though many azotized substances in a state of decomposition
+exert a similar agency, yet it is possessed by _ptyalin_ in a much
+greater degree. The gastric juice has probably no action on farinaceous
+substances. And it has been proved by experiments, that food moistened
+with water digests more slowly than when mixed with the saliva.
+
+More than this, the conversion of starch into sugar has been shown to
+be positively retarded in the stomach by the acidity of the gastric
+secretions. Only after the azotized food has been somewhat disintegrated
+by the action of the gastric juice, and the fluids again rendered
+alkaline by the presence of saliva, swallowed in small quantities for
+a considerable time after eating, does the saccharifying process go on
+with normal rapidity and vigor.
+
+Now starch is the great element, in all farinaceous articles, which
+is adapted to supply us with calorifacient food. "In its original
+condition, either raw or when broken up by boiling, it does not appear
+that starch is capable of being absorbed by the alimentary canal. By its
+conversion into sugar it can alone become a useful aliment." This is
+effected almost instantaneously by the saliva in the mouth, and at a
+slower rate in the stomach.
+
+Obviously, then, if the use of tobacco interferes with the normal action
+of the saliva, and if the digestion of starch ends in the stomach, here
+is the strong point in the argument of the opponents of tobacco. We
+should wonder at the discrepancy between physiology and facts, theory
+and the evidence of our senses and daily experience among the world
+of smokers, and be ready to renounce either science or "the weed."
+Fortunately for our peace of mind and for our respect for physiology,
+the first point of the proposition is not satisfactorily proved, and the
+second is untrue. We are not certain that nicotin ruins ptyalin; we are
+certain that the functions of other organs are vicarious of those of the
+salivary glands.
+
+We say that it is not satisfactorily proved that tobacco impairs the
+sugar-making function of the saliva. At least, we have never seen the
+proof from recorded experiments. Such may exist, but we have met only
+with loose assertions to this effect, of a similar nature to
+those hygienic _dicta_ which we find bandied about in the
+would-be-physiological popular journals, which are so plentiful in
+this country, and which may be styled the "yellow-cover" literature of
+science.
+
+We acknowledge this to be the weak point in our armor, and are open to
+further light. Yet more, for the sake of hypothesis, we will assume it
+proved. What follows? Are we to get no more sugar while we smoke? By no
+means. Hard by the stomach lies the _pancreas_, an organ so similar in
+structure to the salivary glands, that even so minute an observer as
+Kölliker does not think it requisite to give it a separate description.
+Its secretion, which is poured into the second stomach, contains a
+ferment analogous to that of the saliva, and amounts probably to about
+seven ounces a day. The food, on leaving the stomach, is next subjected
+to its influence, together with that of the bile. It helps digest fatty
+matters by its emulsive powers; it has been more recently supposed to
+form a sort of _peptone_ with nitrogenized articles also; but, what is
+more to our purpose, it turns starch into sugar even more quickly than
+the saliva itself. And even if the reformers were to beat us from this
+stronghold, by proving that tobacco impaired the saccharifying power of
+this organ also, we should still find the mixed fluids supplied by the
+smaller, but very numerous glands of the intestines, sufficient to
+accomplish the requisite modification of starch, though more slowly and
+to a less degree.
+
+We come now to the second count in the indictment,--that tobacco
+injuriously affects the nervous system, and through it the digestion.
+The accusation is here more vague and indefinite, and the answer also
+is less susceptible of proof. Both sides must avail themselves of
+circumstantial, rather than direct evidence.
+
+That digestion is in direct dependence upon the nervous system, and that
+even transitory or emotional states of the latter affect the former,
+there can be no doubt. It is so familiar a fact, that instances need
+hardly be cited to prove it. Hence we are told, that tobacco, by
+deranging the one, disorders the other,--that nervousness, or morbid
+irritability of the nerves, palpitations and tremulousness, are soon
+followed by emaciation and dyspepsia, or more or less inability to
+digest.
+
+We conceive Prout, an eminent authority, to be near the truth, when he
+says of tobacco, "The strong and healthy suffer comparatively little,
+while the weak and predisposed to disease fall victims to its poisonous
+operation." The hod-carrier traversing the walls of lofty buildings, and
+the sailor swinging on the yard-arm, are not subject to nervousness,
+though they smoke and chew; nor are they prone to dyspepsia, unless from
+excesses of another kind.
+
+It has not been shown that tobacco either hastens or delays the
+metamorphosis of tissue,--that it drains the system by waste, or clogs
+it by retarding the natural excretions. We must turn, then, to its
+direct influence upon the nervous system to convince ourselves of its
+ill effects, if such exist.
+
+Nor has it been proved that the nervous influence is affected in such
+a way as directly to impair the innervation of the organic functions,
+which derive their chief impulse to action from the scattered ganglia of
+the sympathetic system. Opium, the most powerful narcotic, benumbs the
+brain into sleep; produces a corresponding reaction, on awakening;
+shuts up the secretions, except that of the skin, and thus deranges the
+alimentary functions. The decriers of tobacco will, we conceive, be
+unable to show that it produces such effects.
+
+The reformers are reduced, then, to the vague generality, that smoking
+and chewing "affect the nerves."
+
+Students, men of sedentary, professional habits, persons of a very
+nervous temperament, or those subject to much excitement in business
+and politics, sometimes show debility and languor, or agitation and
+nervousness, while they smoke and chew. Are there no other causes at
+work, sufficient in themselves to produce these effects? Are want of
+exercise, want of air, want of rest, and want of inherited vigor to be
+eliminated from the estimate, while tobacco is made the scape-goat of
+all their troubles?
+
+Climate, and the various influences affecting any race which has
+migrated after a stationary residence of generations to a new country
+extending under different parallels of latitude, have been reasonably
+accused of rendering us a nervous people. It is not so reasonable to
+charge one habit with being the sole cause of this, although we should
+be more prudent in not following it to excess. The larger consumption
+of tobacco here is due both to the cheapness of the product and to
+the wealth of the consumer. But it does not follow that we are more
+subjected to its narcotic influences because we use the best varieties
+of the weed. On the contrary, the poor and rank tobaccoes, grown under a
+northern sky, are the richest in nicotin.
+
+But it will be better to continue the argument about its effects upon
+the nervous system in connection with the assertions of the reformers.
+The following is a list, by no means complete, of these asserted ill
+effects from its use.
+
+Tobacco is said to cause softening of the brain,--dimness of
+vision,--("the Germans smoke; the Germans are a _spectacled_ nation!"
+_post hoc, ergo propter hoc?_ the laborious intellectual habits of this
+people, and their trying "text," are considered of no account,)--cancer
+of the stomach,--disease of the liver,--dyspepsia,--enfeebled
+nutrition, and consequent emaciation,--dryness of the mouth,--"the
+clergyman's sore-throat" and loss of voice,--irritability of the nervous
+system,--tremulousness,--palpitation and paralysis,--and, among the
+moral ills, loss of energy, idleness, drunkenness. A fearful catalogue,
+which would dedicate the _tabatière_ to Pandora, were it true.
+
+Hygienic reformers are usually unequalled in imaginary horrors, except
+by the charlatans who vend panaceas.
+
+We have no reasons for believing that tobacco causes softening of the
+brain equal in plausibility to those which ascribe it to prolonged and
+excessive mental effort. The statistics of disease prove cancers of
+other organs to be twice as frequent, among females, as cancer of the
+stomach is among males; and an eminent etiologist places narcotics
+among the least proved causes of this disease. A hot climate, abuse
+of alcohol, a sedentary life, and sluggish digestion happen, rather
+curiously, to be very frequent concomitants, if not causes, of disease
+of the liver. Dyspepsia haunts both sexes, and, we venture to assert,
+though we cannot bring figures to prove it, is as frequent among those
+who do not use tobacco as among those who do. We are ready to concede
+that excessive chewing and smoking, particularly if accompanied by large
+expectoration, may impair nutrition and cause emaciation: that the mass
+of mankind eat and digest and live, as well as use "the weed," is proof
+that its moderate employment is not ordinarily followed by this result.
+Dryness of the mouth follows expectoration as a matter of course; but
+the salivation excited in an old smoker by tobacco is very moderate, and
+not succeeded by thirst, unless the smoke be inhaled too rapidly and at
+too high a temperature.
+
+We come next to a very tender point with reformers, the laryngeal cough
+and failing voice of the reverend clergy. The later generations of
+ministers of this vicinity, as a body, have abandoned tobacco, and yet
+the evil has not diminished. An eminent divine of our acquaintance,
+who does not smoke daily, always finds a cigar relieve a trifling
+bronchitis, to which he is occasionally subject The curious will find in
+the "Medical Journal" of this city, for 1839, that quite as much can be
+said on one side as on the other of this subject.
+
+The minor, rarely the graver affections of the nervous system, do follow
+the use of tobacco in excess. We admit this willingly; but we deny these
+effects to its moderate use by persons of ordinary health and of no
+peculiar idiosyncrasy. Numerous cases of paralysis among tobacco-takers
+in France were traced to the lead in which the preparation was
+enveloped.
+
+We pass next to what we claim as the effects of _moderate_
+tobacco-using, and will take first the evidence of the toxicologists.
+Both Pereira and Christison agree that "no well-ascertained ill effects
+have been shown to result from the habitual practice of smoking." Beck,
+a modern authority, says, "Common observation settles the question, that
+the moderate and daily use of tobacco _does not_ prove injurious. This
+is a general rule": and he adds, that exceptions necessarily exist, etc.
+
+The repugnance and nausea which greet the smoker, in his first attempts
+to use tobacco, are not a stronger argument against it than the fact
+that the system so soon becomes habituated to these effects is a proof
+of its essential innocuousness.
+
+Certainly the love of tobacco is not an instinctive appetite, like that
+for nitrogen and carbon in the form of food. Man was not born with a
+cigar in his mouth, and it is not certain that the _Nicotiana tabacum_
+flourished in the Garden of Eden. But history proves the existence of
+an instinct among all races--call it depraved, if you will, the fact
+remains--leading them to employ narcotics. And narcotics all nations
+have sought and found. We venture to affirm that tobacco is harmless as
+any. The betel and the hop can alone compare with it in this respect;
+and the hop is not a narcotic which satisfies alone; others are used
+with it. Opium and Indian hemp are not to be mentioned in comparison;
+while coca, in excess, is much more hurtful.
+
+Tobacco may more properly be called a sedative than a narcotic. Opium,
+the type of the latter class, is in its primary action excitant, but
+secondarily narcotic. The opium-eaters are familiar with this, and
+learn by experience to regulate the dose so as to prolong the first and
+shorten the second effects, as much as possible.
+
+Tobacco, on the other hand, is primarily sedative and relaxing. A high
+authority says of its physiological action:--
+
+"First, That its greater and first effect is to assuage and allay and
+soothe the system in general.
+
+"Second, That its lesser and second, or after effect, is to excite and
+invigorate, and at the same time give steadiness and fixity to the
+powers of thought."
+
+Either of these effects will predominate, we conceive, according to
+the intellectual state and capacity of the individual, as well as in
+accordance with the amount used.
+
+The dreamy Oriental is sunk into deeper reverie under the influence of
+tobacco, and his happiness while smoking seems to consist in thinking of
+nothing. The studious German, on the contrary, "thinks and dreams,
+and dreams and thinks, alternately; but while his body is soothed and
+stilled, his mind is ever awake."
+
+This latter description resembles, to compare small things with great,
+the effects of opium, as detailed by De Quincey.
+
+"In habitual smokers," says Pereira, "the practice, when moderately
+indulged, produces that remarkably soothing and tranquillizing effect on
+the mind which has caused it to be so much admired and adopted by all
+classes of society."
+
+The pleasure derived from tobacco is very hard to define, since it is
+negative rather than positive, and to be estimated more by what it
+prevents than by what it produces. It relieves the little vexations and
+cares of life, soothes the harassed mind, and promotes quiet reflection.
+This it does most of all when used sparingly and after labor. But
+if incessantly consumed, it keeps up a constant, but mild cerebral
+exhilaration. The mind acts more promptly and more continuously under
+its use. We think any tobacco-consumer will bear us out in this
+definition of its varying effects.
+
+After a full meal, if it does not help, it at least hides digestion.
+"It settles one's dinner," as the saying is, and gives that feeling of
+quiet, luxurious _bien-aise_ which would probably exist naturally in
+a state of primeval health. It promotes, with most persons, the
+peristaltic movements of the alimentary passages by its relaxing
+properties.
+
+Smoking is eminently social, and favors domestic habits. And in this
+way, we contend, it prevents drinking, rather than leads to it. Many
+still associate the cigar with the bar-room. This notion should have
+become obsolete ere this, for it has an extremely limited foundation in
+fact. Bachelors and would-be-manly boys are not the only consumers of
+tobacco, though they are the best patrons of the bar. The poor man's
+pipe retains him by his own fireside, as well as softens his domestic
+asperities.
+
+Excess in tobacco, like excess in any other material good meant for
+moderate use, is followed by evil effects, more or less quickly,
+according to the constitution and temperament of the abuser. The
+lymphatic and obese can smoke more than the sanguine and nervous, with
+impunity. How much constitutes excess varies with each individual.
+Manufacturers of tobacco do not appear to suffer. Christison states, as
+the result of the researches of MM. Parent-Duchatelet and D'Arcet among
+four thousand workmen in the tobacco-manufactories of France, that they
+found no evidence of its being unwholesome. Moderate tobacco-users
+attain longevity equal to that of any other class in the community.
+
+We will cite only the following brief statistics from an old physician
+of a neighboring town. In looking over the list of the oldest men, dead
+or alive, within his circle of acquaintance, he finds a total of 67 men,
+from 73 to 93 years of age. Their average age is 78 and a fraction. Of
+these 67, 54 were smokers or chewers; 9 only, non-consumers of tobacco;
+and 4 were doubtful, or not ascertained. About nine-elevenths smoked or
+chewed. The compiler quaintly adds, "How much longer these men might
+have lived without tobacco, it is impossible to determine."
+
+The tobacco-leaf is consumed by man usually in three ways: by smoking,
+snuffing, or chewing. The first is the most common; the last is the most
+disagreeable.
+
+Tobacco is smoked in the East Indies, China, and Siam; in Turkey and
+Persia; over Europe generally; and in North and South America. Cigars
+are preferred in the East and West Indies, Spain, England, and America.
+China, Turkey, Persia, and Germany worship the pipe. In Europe the pipe
+is patronized on account of its cheapness. Turks and Persians use the
+mildest forms of pipe-smoking, choosing pipes with long, flexible stems,
+and having the smoke cooled and purified by passing through water. The
+Germans prefer the porous meerschaum,--the Canadians, the common clay.
+Women smoke habitually in China, the East and West Indies, and to a less
+extent in South America, Spain, and France.
+
+We have no fears that any reasoning of ours would induce the other
+sex to use tobacco. The ladies set too just a value on the precious
+commodity of their charms for that. There is little danger that they
+would do anything which might render them disagreeable. The practice of
+snuff-taking is about the only form they patronize, and that to a slight
+extent.
+
+France is the home of snuff. A large proportion of all the tobacco
+consumed there is used in this form. The practice prevails to a large
+extent also in Iceland and Scotland. The Icelander uses a small horn,
+like a powder-horn, to hold his snuff. Inserting the smaller end into
+the nostril, he elevates the other, and thus conveys the pungent powder
+directly to the part. The more delicate Highlander carries the snuff to
+his nose on a little shovel. This can be surpassed only by the habit
+of "dipping," peculiar to some women of the United States, and whose
+details will not bear description.
+
+Chewing prevails _par excellence_ in our own country, and among the
+sailors of most nations,--to some extent also in Switzerland, Iceland,
+and among the Northern races. It is the safest and most convenient form
+at sea.
+
+By smoking, each of the three active ingredients of tobacco is rendered
+capable of absorption. The empyreumatic oil is produced by combustion.
+The pipe retains this and a portion of the nicotin in its pores. The
+cigar, alone, conveys all the essential elements into the system.
+
+Liebig once asserted that cigar-smoking was prejudicial from the
+amount of gaseous carbon inhaled. We cannot believe this. The heat of
+cigar-smoke may have some influence on the teeth; and, on the whole, the
+long pipe, with a porous bowl, is probably the best way of using tobacco
+in a state of ignition.
+
+By repeated fermentations in preparing snuff, much of the nicotin is
+evaporated and lost. Yet snuff-takers impair the sense of smell, and
+ruin the voice, by clogging up the passages with the finer particles of
+the powder. The functions of the labyrinthine caverns of the nose and
+forehead, and of the delicate osseous laminae which constitute the
+sounding-boards of vocalization, are thus destroyed.
+
+Chewing is the most constant, as it is the nastiest habit. The old
+chewer, safe in the blunted irritability of the salivary glands, can
+continue his practice all night, if he be so infatuated, without
+inconvenience. In masticating tobacco, nicotin and nicotianin are rolled
+about in the mouth with the quid, but are not probably so quickly
+absorbed as when in the gaseous state. Yet chewers are the greatest
+spitters, and have a characteristic drooping of the angle of the lower
+lip, which points to loss of power in the _leavator_ muscles.
+
+Latakia, Shiraz, Manila, Cuba, Virginia, and Maryland produce the most
+valuable tobaccoes. Though peculiar soils and dressings may impart
+a greater aroma and richness to the plant, by the variations in the
+quantity of nicotianin, as compared with the other organic elements, yet
+we are inclined to think that the diminished proportion of nicotin in
+the best varieties in the cause of their superior flavor to the rank
+Northern tobaccoes, and that it is mainly because they are milder that
+they are most esteemed. So, too, the cigar improves with age, because
+a certain amount of nicotin evaporates and escapes. Taste in cigars
+varies, however, from the Austrian government article, a very rank
+"long-nine," with a straw running through the centre to improve its
+suction, to the Cuban _cigarrito_, whose ethereal proportions three
+whiffs will exhaust.
+
+The manufacture of smoking-tobaccoes is as much and art in Germany as
+getting up a fancy brand of cigars is here; and the medical philosopher
+of that country will gravely debate whether "Kanaster" or "Varinas" be
+best suited for certain forms of convalescence; tobacco being almost
+as indispensable as gruel, in returning health. We think the
+light pipe-smoker will find a combination of German and Turkish
+smoking-tobaccoes a happy thought. The old smoker may secure the best
+union of delicacy and strength in the Virginia "natural leaf."
+
+Among the eight or ten species of the tobacco-plant now recognized by
+botanists, the _Nicotiana tabacum_ and the _Nicotiana rustica_ hold the
+chief place. Numerous varieties of each of these, however, are named and
+exist.
+
+We condense from De Bow's "Industrial Resources of the South and West" a
+brief account of tobacco-culture in this country. "The tobacco is best
+sown from the 10th to the 20th of March, and a rich loam is the most
+favorable soil. The plants are dressed with a mixture of ashes, plaster,
+soot, salt, sulphur, soil, and manure." After they are transplanted,
+we are told that "the soil best adapted to the growth of tobacco is a
+light, friable one, or what is commonly called a sandy loam; not too
+flat, but rolling, undulating land." Long processes of hand-weeding must
+be gone through, and equal parts of plaster and ashes are put on each
+plant. "Worms are the worst enemy," and can be effectually destroyed
+only by hand. "When the plant begins to yellow, it is time to put it
+away; and it is cut off close to the ground." After wilting a little on
+the ground, it is dried on sticks, by one of the three processes called
+"pegging, spearing, and splitting." "When dry, the leaves are stripped
+off and tied in bundles of one fifth or sixth of a pound each. It is
+sorted into three or four qualities, as Yellow, Bright, Dull, etc."
+Next it is "bulked," or put into bundles, and these again dried, and
+afterwards "conditioned," and packed in hogsheads weighing from six
+hundred to a thousand pounds each.
+
+It would be too long to detail the processes of cigar- and snuff-making,
+the latter of which is quite complicated.
+
+We were happy to learn from the fearful work of Hassall on "Food and
+its Adulterations," that tobacco was one of the articles least tampered
+with; and particularly that there was no opium in cheroots, but nothing
+more harmful than hay and paper. He ascribes this immunity mainly to
+the vigilance of the excisemen. But we have recently seen a work on
+the adulteration of tobacco, whose microscopic plates brought back our
+former misgivings. Molasses is a very common agent used to give color
+and render it toothsome. Various vegetable leaves, as the rhubarb,
+beech, walnut, and mullein, as well as the less delectable bran, yellow
+ochre, and hellebore, in snuff, are also sometimes used to defraud.
+Saltpetre is often sprinkled on, in making cigars, to improve their
+burning.
+
+The Indians mixed tobacco in their pipes with fragrant herbs. Cascarilla
+bark is a favorite with some smokers; it is a simple aromatic and
+tonic, but, when smoked, is said sometimes to occasion vertigo and
+intoxication.
+
+We have before observed that tobacco is a very exhausting crop to the
+soil. The worn-out tobacco-plantations of the South are sufficient
+practical proof of this, while it is also readily explained by
+chemistry. The leaves of tobacco are among the richest in incombustible
+ash, yielding, when burned, from 19 to 28 _per cent_. of inorganic
+substance. This forms the abundant ashes of tobacco-pipes and of cigars.
+All this has been derived from the soil where it was raised, and it is
+of a nature very necessary to vegetation, and not very abundant in the
+most fertile lands. "Every ton of dried tobacco-leaves carries off from
+four to five hundred-weight of this mineral matter,--as much as is
+contained in fourteen tons of the grain of wheat." It follows
+that scientific agriculture can alone restore this waste to the
+tobacco-plantation.
+
+There is one other aspect of this great subject, which is almost
+peculiar to New England, the home of reform. Certain Puritanical
+pessimists have argued that the use of tobacco is immoral. There are
+few, except our own sober people, who would admit this question at
+all. We would treat this prejudice with the respect due to all sincere
+reforms. And we have attempted to show, that, since all races have used
+and will use narcotics, we had better yield a little, lest more be
+taken, and concede them tobacco, which is more harmless than many that
+are largely consumed. We have proved to our own satisfaction, and we
+hope to theirs, that tobacco _in moderation_ neither affects the health
+nor shortens life; that it does not create an appetite for stimulants,
+but rather supplies their place; and that it favors sociality and
+domestic habits more than the reverse.
+
+If the formation of any habit be objected to, we reply, that this is
+a natural tendency of man, that things become less prejudicial by
+repetition, and that a high hygienic authority advises us "to be regular
+even in our vices."
+
+As we began in a light, we close in a more sober vein, apologists for
+tobacco, rather than strongly advocating either side. On one point we
+are sure that we shall agree with the ladies, and that is in a sincere
+denunciation of the habit of smoking at a tender age. And although, in
+accordance with the tendency of the times, the school-boy whom we caught
+attached to a "long-nine" would consistently reply, _"Civis Americanus
+sum_!" we shall persist in claiming the censorship of age over those on
+whose chins the callow down of adolescence is yet ungrown.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+SHAKSPEARE DONE INTO FRENCH.
+
+
+In the first place, it really was an immense success, and Shylock, or
+Sheeloque, as they dubbed him, was called before the curtain seven
+times, and in most appropriate humility nearly laid his nose on his
+insteps as he bowed, and quite showed his spine.
+
+It certainly was like Shakspeare in this, that it had five acts; but
+when I have made that concession, and admitted that Sheeloque was
+_Le Juif de Venise_, I think I have named all the cardinal points of
+similarity in the "Merchant of Venice" and "Le Juif" of that same
+unwholesome place. To be sure, there is a suspicion of _le devin
+Williams_, as they will call him, continually cropping out; but a
+conscientious man would not swear to one line of it, and I do not
+think Shakspeare would be justified in suing the French author for
+compensation under the National Copyright-Act. I speak of Shakspeare as
+existing, because it is my belief he does, in a manner so to speak.
+
+I have intimated that "Le Juif" has five acts; but I have not yet
+committed myself to the assertion that he was in seven _tableaux_, and
+possessed a prologue.
+
+It is now my pleasing duty to force you through the five acts, and the
+one prologue, and the seven _tableaux_,--every one of them.
+
+This prologue is divided as to the theatre into two parts: to left,
+Sheeloque's domestic interior,--to right, a practicable canal. In the
+very first line out crops Shylock's love of good bargains; and I
+give the reader my word, the little Frenchmen saw that this was
+characteristic, and applauded vehemently. _"Bon_," said I,--"if they
+applaud the first line, what will they do with the last act?"
+
+It need not be said that Shylock dabbles in those bills which Venetian
+swells of the fifteenth century, in common with those of a later age
+and more western land, will manipulate, in spite of all the political
+economy from Confucius down to Mr. Mill; and in this particular instance
+and prologue the names of the improvidents are Leone and Ubaldo, neither
+of which, if my memory serve me, is Shakspearian. These gentlemen
+considerably shake my traditional respect for sixteenth-century
+Venetian _Aristos_, for they insult that Jew till I wonder where a count
+and a duke have learnt such language: but they serve a purpose; they
+trot Shylock out, so to speak, and give our author an opportunity
+of doing his best with A 1. Shylock's great speech. Here is the
+apostrophe:--
+
+"But yesterday--no later past than yesterday--thou didst bid thy
+mistress call at me from her balcony; thy servants by thy will did cast
+mud on me, and thy hounds sped snapping after me,'"--whereby we may infer
+they went hunting in Venice, in the fifteenth century. It must have been
+rather dangerous running. Nor could the Venetian nobles of that good old
+time have been very proper; for Leone and Ubaldo justify themselves by
+saying they were drunk.
+
+It is after this pretty excuse that Shylock has a soliloquy as long as
+his beard,--and I hear really loud opposition to this didacticism in the
+pit; but, however, this slow work soon meets compensation in violent
+action. Shylock won't renew, and the nobles get indignant; so they
+propose to pay Shylock with more kicks than halfpence. Here the action
+begins; for Shylock protests he will bite a bit out of them; and though
+one of these long-sleeved swells warns him that all threats by Jews
+against Christians are an imprisonment manner, Shylock rashly prepares
+for a defence. Away fly the lords after Shylock, over go the chairs,
+down goes the table, and I suppose Shylock _does_ hit "one of them"; for
+the two lords go off quite triumphantly, with the intimation that he
+will be in prison in one hour from that.
+
+Then the Jew calls for--Sarah; and this same comes in on tiptoe, for
+fear of waking the baby. This Shylock _fils_ Sarah proceeds to describe
+as equally beautiful with Abel and Moses, which seems to give Shylock
+_père_ great comfort,--though I am bound to admit the lowly whispered
+doubt on the part of a pit-neighbor of mine as to Sarah's capability of
+judging in the matter.
+
+Shylock is preparing for prison, it seems, and one little necessity is a
+prayer for said son. Sarah comes in with a response, Shylock leaves
+off praying "immediate," to tell Sarah she is no vulgar servant, which
+assurance is received in the tearful manner. And here it comes a
+little faint whiff of the real play. In leaving home, Shylock's French
+plagiarizes the Jew's speech to Jessica, even down to the doubt the Jew
+has about leaving his house at all.
+
+There has been no necessity for stating that Sara supposes herself the
+widow of a libel on his sex, a man unspeakable; and the moment I hear he
+is, or was, a man of crime unspeakable, I know he will turn up. Shylock
+having gone away,--I do not know where,--up comes a gondola to the
+front-door, and, of course, in walks Sarah's husband. "Good evening,
+Ma'am," says he. "God of Israel!" says she. And then such an explanation
+as this infamous husband gives! He puts in, that he is a pirate; that
+his captain, whom he describes as a _Vénus en corsaire_, has lost a
+son, and wants another; hence speaker, name Arnheim, wants that little
+Israelite who is so much like Abel and Moses at one and the same moment:
+though how Arnheim should know of that little creation, or how he should
+know him to be also like the lost infantile pirate as well as Abel and
+Moses, does not sufficiently appear,--as, indeed, my neighbor, who is
+suggestive of a Greek Chorus in a blue blouse, discovers in half a dozen
+disparaging syllables.
+
+Of course, when the supposed widow hears this, her cries ought to wake
+up all hearing Venice, but not one Venetian comes to her aid; and though
+she uses her two hands enough for twenty, she has not got her way when
+thoroughly breathed.
+
+"Sarah," says that energetic woman's husband, "Sarah, don't be a fool!"
+
+Then I know the baby is coming: there never yet was a French prologue
+without a baby,--it seems a French unity; sometimes there are two
+babies, who always get mixed up. But to our business.
+
+Out comes the baby, (they never scream,) and--alas that for effect he
+should thus commit himself!--Arnheim rips Sarah up, and down she goes as
+dead as the Queen of Sheba.
+
+Then comes a really fine scene. Shylock enters, learns all; in come
+soldiers for Shylock, and, of course, accuse him of the murder;
+whereupon Shylock shows on the blade a cross. "Doth a Jew wear a knife
+with a cross on it?" says he. "Go to!--'tis a Christian murder."
+
+To this the soldier-head has nothing to say; so he hurries Shylock off
+to prison, and down comes the curtain.
+
+"Hum!" says the Greek Chorus,--"it might be worse."
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+It is clear there must be lady characters, or I am quite sure the Greek
+Chorus would find fault wofully,--and the only one we have had, Sarah,
+to wit, can't decently appear again, except in the spiritual form. Well,
+there is the original Portia,--alas for that clever, virtuous, and
+noble lady!--how is she fallen in the French!--she is noble-looking and
+clever,--but the third quality, oh, dear me! This disreputable is named
+Imperia, and the real Bassanio becomes one Honorius, who is, as he
+should be, the bosom friend of one Andronic, which is Antonio, I would
+have you know. I have thought over it two minutes, and have come to the
+conclusion that the less I say about Imperia the better, and I know the
+Anglo-Saxon would not agree with Imperia,--but, as the Frenchman does,
+I offer you one, or part of one of Imperia's songs, as bought by me for
+two disgraceful _sous_.
+
+ "Déjà l'aube rayonne et luit,
+ La nuit
+ Finit;
+ Maîtresse,
+ L'heure enchanteresse
+ Passe et fuit...
+ A ton arrêt je dois me rendre.
+ Sort jaloux! (_bis._)
+ Hâtons-nous,
+ Il faut descendre
+ Sans réveiller son vieil époux!..."
+
+Well,--what do you think of it? Now I will not mention her again,--I
+will refer to her, when I shall have vexatious occasion, as "that
+woman." And, indeed, "that woman" and Honorius set us up in
+comprehension of matters progressing. It seems that quite twenty years
+have passed since Sarah's soul slid through a knife-gash; that Honorius
+and Andronic, who have come from Smyrna, (why?) are almost brothers;
+that Honorius is good in this fact only, that he knows he is really bad;
+and that Andronic is the richest and most moral man in Venice,--though
+why, under those circumstances, he should be friendly with such a rip as
+Honorius, Honorius does not inform us.
+
+I shall pass over the next scenes, and come to that in which all the
+creditors of all the lords are brought on to the stage in a state which
+calls for the interference of the Doge: they are all drunk,--except
+Shylock. This scene really is a startler. Shylock, now dashed with
+gray, and nearly double, comes up to "that woman" and calls her sister;
+whereupon she demanding that explanation which I and the Greek Chorus
+simultaneously want, Shylock states that _he_ is Usury and _she_ Luxury,
+"and they have one father."
+
+"Queer old man!!!" says "that woman."
+
+Here follow dice, in which the Jew is requested to join, all of which
+naturally brings about a discussion on the rate of usage, which that
+dog Andronic is bringing down, and a further statement that _that_
+imprisonment lasted two years. Then comes a _coup d'théâtre_: Shylock
+reminds everybody that a just Doge reigns now, (nor can I help pointing
+out the Frenchman's ingenuity here: in the _play_, the Doge must be
+just, or where would the pound of flesh be?--while, if the Doge of the
+_prologue_ were just, Shylock would not have been committed for two
+years,--ergo, kill No. 1. Doge, install No. 2.)--Shylock reminds
+everybody that a just Doge reigns. Shylock has it all his own way, and
+Honorius is arrested before the very eyes of "that woman." Then comes
+the necessary _Deus ex machina_ in the shape of Andronic, who pays
+everybody everything, saves his friend, and play proceeds. Andronic
+reproaches Jew touching his greed, whereon the Jew offers this not
+profound remark,--"I am--what I am,"--and goes on counting his money.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the secret!
+
+This cash payment winds up the act.
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+Decidedly, the beginning of Act Second proves Andronic is no fool, for
+he advises Honorius to flee that creature,--and what better advice in
+those matters is there than that of retreating? Decidedly, too,
+the virtuous Doge is worth having,--really a Middle-Age electric
+telegraph,--for he gives all about him such a dose of news as in this
+day would sell every penny-paper printed: and such bad news!--Venice
+down everywhere, and a loan wanted. Here comes a fine scene for
+Andronic, (for, after all, the lords have "hitched out" of the proposed
+loan, whereby I take it they are not such fools as people take them to
+be,)--Andronic declares, that, if he were rich enough, the Doge should
+not ask for money, but ships are but frail and his have gone to pieces.
+Here, you see, comes another faint whiff of the real original play.
+
+Then, clearly, the Doge can only apply to the Jews. Enter Shylock _à
+propos_. The next scene is so awful to the Greek Chorus, who may be of a
+business turn, that I am charitable enough not to reproduce it here;
+but the percentage the Jew wants for the loan seems to be quite a
+multiplication-table of tangible securities, and I only wonder the Doge
+does not order him into the Adriatic. Amongst other demands, the Jew
+procures all the Dogic jewels,--and then he wants all the jewels of the
+Doge's daughter; indeed, Shylock becomes a most unreasonable party.
+
+No sooner does he speak of the daughter, Ginevra by name, than in she
+comes, jewel-casket in hand,--which leads the cynical Greek Chorus to
+suppose that Mademoiselle is either _clairvoyante_ or prefers going
+about with a box. The way in which that best of her sex offers up the
+jewels on the patriotic shrine is really worthy of the applause bestowed
+on the act; but when that pig of a Jew is not satisfied, when he insists
+upon the diamond necklace Ginevra wears, as another preliminary to the
+loan, people in the theatre quite shake with indignation.
+
+Now the jewel has been the pattern young lady's mother's; and here comes
+an opening for that appeal to the filial love of Frenchmen which is
+never touched in vain. It is really a great and noble trait in the
+French character, that filial love, not too questionable to be
+demonstrative,--'tis a sure dramatist's French card, that appeal to the
+love of mothers and fathers by their children.
+
+Having procured the weight of this chain, which has caused Shylock the
+loss of many friends in the house who have been inclined to like him
+consequent upon the loss of that Abel-Moses-photograph,--Shylock departs
+with this information, that he will bring the money to-morrow: which
+assertion proves Shylock to be a strong man, if a hundred thousand marks
+are as heavy as I take them to be.
+
+Upon what little things do dramas, in common with lives, turn!
+That necklace is the brilliant groundwork of the rest of the plot.
+Why--why--why--WHY didn't Shakspeare think of the necklace?
+
+And as I always must tell love-affairs as soon as I hear of them,--for,
+as a rule, I live in country towns,--I may at once state that Ginevra
+loved Andronic, and latter loved former, and they would not tell each
+other, and the Doge knew nothing about it.
+
+Yes, decidedly, the necklace is the first character in "Le Juif de
+Venise." You see, Ginevra loved the necklace, and Andronic loved
+Ginevra; so he is forced to procure that charming necklace for her,
+_coûte qui coûte_, and so he goes to Shylock for it. And here you will
+see its value: Shylock will sell it only for a large sum. Andronic,
+seeing his losses, hasn't the money,--but will have;--glorious opening
+for the clause about the pound of flesh! Signed, sealed, and delivered.
+How superior is Andronic to Antonio, the old ----! This latter pawns his
+breast for a friend only: the great Andronic risks the flesh about _his_
+heart for sacred love. Io Venus!
+
+Yet, nevertheless, notwithstanding, it is the opinion of the Greek
+Chorus that Andronic is a _joli_ fool,--which choral remark I hear
+with pain, as reflecting upon unhesitating love, and especially as the
+remarker has been eminently touched at the abduction.
+
+
+ACT IV.
+
+
+As for the Fourth Act,--it is very tender and terrible.
+
+I need not say that the tenderness arises through the necklace,--and
+indeed, for that matter, so also does the terror. Touching the first, of
+course it is the discovery by Ginevra of the return of those maternal
+diamonds,--which are handed to her by a _femme-de-chambre_, who has
+had them from Andronic's _valet-de-chambre_, who is in love with the
+_femme-de-chambre_, who reciprocates, etc., etc., etc.
+
+But touching the terrible,--"that woman" hears of the necklace, and
+sends Honorius for it to Shylock. Bad job!--gone! Well, then, Honorius
+falls out with his old friend Andronic because latter will not yield up
+the necklace. Honorius demands to know who has it. Andronic will not
+name Ginevra's name before "that woman" and all the lofty lords, and
+then there's a grand scene.
+
+In the first place, it seems that in Shylock's Venetian time, the
+Venetian lords, when obliging Venice with a riot, called upon Venetians
+to put out their lights, and this the lords now do, (we are on the
+piazza,) and out go all the lights as though turned off at one main.
+
+Then there is such a scrimmage! Honorius lunges at Andronic; this latter
+disarms former; then latter comes to his senses, flies over to his old
+friend, and all the Venetian brawlers are put to flight.
+
+Then Honorius says,--and pray, pray, mark what Honorius says, or you
+will _never_ comprehend Act V.,--then Honorius says, taking Andronic's
+previous advice about flying, "I will go away, _and fight the Adriatic
+pirates_." Now, pray, don't forget that. I quite distress myself in
+praying you not to forget that,--to wit,--"_Honorius goes away to fight
+the Adriatic pirates._"
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+
+ACT V.
+
+
+This, of course, is the knifing act.
+
+Seated is Shylock before an hour-glass, and trying to count the grains
+of sand as they glide through.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+You remember that in that original play Antonio's ships are lost merely.
+Bah! we manage better in this matter: the ships come home, but they are
+empty,--emptied by the pirates; though why those Adriaticians did not
+confiscate the ships is even beyond the Greek Chorus, who says, "They
+were very polite."
+
+At last all the sand is at rest.
+
+Crack,--as punctual as a postman comes Andronic; and as the Venetians
+are revolting against the flesh business, about which they seem to know
+every particular, Andronic brings a guard of the just Doge's soldiers
+to keep the populace quiet while the business goes on;--all of which
+behavior on the merchant's part my friend the Chorus pronounces to be
+stupid and suicidal.
+
+Then comes such a scene!--Andronic calling for Ginevra, and the Jew
+calling for his own.
+
+Breast bared.
+
+Then thus the Jew:--
+
+"Feeble strength of my old body, be centred in this eye and this arm!
+Thou, my son, receive this sacrifice, and tremble with joy in thy
+unknown tomb!"
+
+Knife raised.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+And I _do_ hope you have not forgotten that Honorius went away to fight
+the Adriatic pirates.
+
+For, if you have forgotten that fact, you will not comprehend Honorius's
+rushing in at this moment from the Adriatic pirates.
+
+Yes,--but why did he go amongst them?
+
+The big secret, in fact. If Honorius had not gone, why, I suppose
+Shylock would have had his pound of man.
+
+As it is, Honorius and his paper--which latter has also come from the
+pirates--do the business.
+
+Why, the whole thing turns on the paper. How lucky it was Honorius went
+amongst the pirates!
+
+Honorius has vanquished the chief of the pirates,--who was named
+Arnheim,--and that disreputable widower, just before his last breath,
+gave Honorius the said paper,--though why, it is not clear. And--and
+this paper shows that ANDRONIC IS THAT SON STOLEN AWAY FROM SARAH,
+DECEASED, AND SHYLOCK,--THAT SON, NOT ONLY THE IMAGE OF ABEL, BUT OF
+MOSES, TOO.
+
+Great thunderbolts!
+
+Then, very naturally, (in a play,) in come all the characters, and
+follows, I am constrained to say, a very well-conceived scene,--'tis
+another appeal to filial love. The Jew would own his son, but he
+remembers that it would injure the son, and so he keeps silent. I
+declare, there is something eminently beautiful in the idea of making
+the Jew yield his wealth up to Andronic, and saying he will wander from
+Venice,--his staff his only wealth. And when, as he stoops to kiss his
+son's hand, Ginevra (who of course has come on with the rest) makes a
+gesture as though she feared treachery, the few words put into the Jew's
+mouth are full of pathos and poetry.
+
+And so down comes the curtain,--the piece meeting with the full approval
+of Chorus, who applauded till I thought he would snap his hands off at
+the wrists.
+
+"A very moral play," said a stout gentleman behind me,--who had done
+little else all night but break into the fiercest of apples and
+pears,--"a very moral play,"--meaning thereby, probably, that it was
+very moral that a Jew's child should remain a Christian.
+
+Now there were some good points in that play; but, oh, thou M. Ferdinand
+Dugué, thou,--why didst thou challenge comparison with a man who wrote
+for all theatres for all times?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+THE POET'S SINGING.
+
+
+ In heat and in cold, in sunshine and rain,
+ Bewailing its loss and boasting its gain,
+ Blessing its pleasure and cursing its pain,
+ The hurrying world goes up and down:
+ Every avenue and street
+ Of city and town
+ Are veins that throb with the restless beat
+ Of the eager multitude's trampling feet.
+ Men wrangle together to get and hold
+ A sceptre of power or a crock of gold;
+ Blaspheming God's name with the breath He gave,
+ And plotting revenge on the brink of the grave!
+ And Fashion's followers, flitting after,
+ O'ertake and pass the funeral train,
+ Thoughtlessly scattering jests and laughter,
+ Like sharp, quick showers of hail and rain,
+ To beat on the hearts that are bleeding with pain!
+ And many who stare at the close-shut hearse
+ Envy the dead within,--or, worse,
+ Turn away with a keener zest
+ To grapple and revel and sin with the rest!
+ While far apart in a bower of green,
+ Unheeded, unseen,
+ A warbling bird on the topmost bough
+ Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
+ Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
+ But he hears the surging waves without,--
+ The heartless jeer, and the wild, wild shout:
+ The ceaseless clamor, the cruel strife
+ Make the Poet weary of life;
+ And tears of pity and tears of pain
+ Ebb and flow in every strain,
+ As he soothes his heart with singing.
+
+ The tide of humanity rolleth on;
+ And 'mid faces miserly, haggard, and wan,
+ Between the hypocrite's and the knave's,
+ The hapless idiot's and the slave's,
+ Sweet children smile in their nurses' arms,
+ And clap their hands in innocent glee;
+ While, unrebuked by the heavenly charms
+ That beam in the eyes of infancy,
+ Oaths still blacken the lips of men,
+ And startle the ears of womanhood!
+ On either hand
+ The churches stand,
+ Forgotten by those who yesterday
+ Went thronging thither to praise and pray,
+ And take of the Holy Body and Blood!
+ Their week-day creed is the law of Might;
+ Self is their idol, and Gain their right:
+ Though, now and then,
+ God sees some faithful disciples still
+ Breasting the current to do His will.
+ The little bird on the topmost bough
+ Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
+ Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
+ But he hears the surging waves without,--
+ The atheist's scoff and the infidel's doubt,
+ The Pharisee's cant and the sweet saint's prayer,
+ And the piercing cry for rest from care;
+ And tears of pity and tears of pain
+ Ebb and flow in every strain,
+ As he praises God with singing.
+
+
+
+
+A JOURNEY IN SICILY.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+PALERMO.
+
+
+In the latter part of April, 1856, four travellers, one of whom was the
+present writer, left the Vittoria Hotel at Naples, and at two, P.M.,
+embarked on board the Calabrese steamer, pledged to leave for Palermo
+precisely at that hour. As, however, our faith in the company's
+protestations was by no means so implicit as had been our obedience to
+their orders, it was with no feeling of surprise that we discovered by
+many infallible signs that the hour of departure was yet far off. True,
+the funnel sent up its thick cloud; the steward in dirty shirt-sleeves
+stood firm in the gangway, energetically demanding from the
+baggage-laden traveller the company's voucher for the fare, without
+which he may vainly hope to leave the gangway ladder; the decks were
+crowded in every part with lumber, live and dead. But all these symptoms
+had to be increased many fold in their intensity before we could hope to
+get under way; and a single glance at the listless countenances of the
+bare-legged, bare-armed, red-capped crowd who adhered like polypi to
+the rough foundation-stones of the mole sufficed to show that the
+performance they had come to witness would not soon commence. Our berths
+once visited, we cast about for some quiet position wherein to while
+away the intervening time. The top of the deck-house offered as pleasant
+a prospect as could be hoped for, and thither we mounted.
+
+The whole available portion of the deck, poop included, was in
+possession of a crowd of youngsters, many mere boys, from the Abruzzi,
+destined to exchange their rags and emptiness for the gay uniform and
+good rations of King Ferdinand's soldiery. In point of physical comfort,
+their gain must be immense; and very bad must be that government
+which, despite of these advantages, has forced upon the soldier's mind
+discontent and disaffection. No doubt, the spectacle of the Swiss
+regiments doubly paid, and (on Sundays at least) trebly intoxicated,
+has something to do with this ill feeling. The raggedness of this troop
+could be paralleled only by that of the immortal regiment with whom
+their leader declined to march through Coventry, and was probably even
+more quaint and fantastic in its character. Chief in singularity were
+their hats, if hat be the proper designation of the volcanic-looking
+gray cone which adhered to the head by some inscrutable dynamic law, and
+seemed rather fitted for carrying out the stratagem of shoeing a troop
+of horse with felt than for protecting a human skull. A triple row
+of scalloped black velvet not unfrequently bore testimony to the
+indomitable love of the nation for ornament; and the same decoration
+might be found on their garments, whose complicated patchwork reminded
+us of the humble original from which has sprung our brilliant Harlequin.
+Shortly our attention was solicited by a pantomimic Roscius, some ten or
+twelve years old, who, having climbed over the taffrail and cleared a
+stage of some four feet square, dramatized all practicable scenes, and
+many apparently impracticable, for he made nothing of presenting two or
+three personages in rapid interchange. Words were needless, and would
+have been useless, as the unloading of railway bars by a brawny
+Northumbrian and his crew drowned all articulate sounds.
+
+Notwithstanding these varied amusements, we were not sorry to see
+arrive, first, a gray general, obviously the Triton of our minnows, and
+close behind him the health and police officers of the government, to
+whose paternal solicitude for our mental and bodily health was to be
+ascribed our long delay in port. These beneficent influences, incarnated
+in the form of two portly gentlemen in velvet waistcoats,--an Italian
+wears a velvet waistcoat, if he can get one, far into the hot
+months,--began their work of summoning by name each individual from the
+private to the general, then the passengers, then the crew, and finally,
+much to our relief, reëmbarked in the boat, and left us free to pursue
+our voyage.
+
+We soon left behind the ominous cone of Vesuvius, reported by the best
+judges to be at present in so unsound a state that nothing can prevent
+its early fall; sunset left us near the grand precipices of Anacapri,
+and morning found us with Ustica on our beam, and the semicircle of
+mountains which enchase the gem of Palermo gradually unfolding their
+beauties. By ten, A.M., we were in harbor and pulling shorewards to
+subject ourselves to the scrutiny of custom-house and police. Our
+passports duly conned over, the functionary, with a sour glance at our
+valanced faces, inquired if we had letters for any one in the island.
+Never before had such a question been asked me, nor ever before could I
+have given other than an humble negative. But the kindness of a friend
+had luckily provided me with a formidable shield, and a reply, given
+with well-assumed ease, that I had letters from the English Ambassador
+for the Viceroy, smoothed the grim feature, and released us from the
+dread tribunal. The custom-house gave no trouble, and we reëmbarked to
+cross about half a mile of water which separated us from the city gate.
+Here, however, we were destined to experience the influence of the sunny
+clime: our two stout boatmen persisted in setting their sail, under the
+utterly false pretence that there was some wind blowing, and fully half
+an hour elapsed ere we set foot ashore.
+
+This gave me ample time to recall the different aspect of Palermo when
+first I saw it, in 1849. I had accompanied the noble squadron, English
+and French, which carried to the Sicilian government the _ultimatum_
+of the King of Naples. The scenes of that troubled time passed vividly
+before me: the mutual salutes of the Admirals; the honors paid by
+each separately to the flag of Sicily, that flag which we had come to
+strike,--for such we all knew must be the effect of our withdrawal. I
+recollected the manly courtesy with which the Sicilians received us,
+their earnest assurances that they did not confound our involuntary
+errand with our personal feelings; and how, when a wild Greek
+mountaineer from the Piano de' Greci, unable to comprehend the
+intricacies of politics, and stupidly imagining that those who were
+not for him were against him, had insulted one of our officers, the
+bystanders had interposed so honorably and so swiftly that even the hot
+blood of our fiery Cymrian had neither time nor excuse to rise to the
+boiling-point. I recalled the scene in the Parliament House, when the
+replies to the King's message, which had been sent by each chief town,
+were read by the Speaker: the grave indignation of some,--the somewhat
+bombastic protestations of others,--the question put of submission or
+war,--the shout of "_Guerra! guerra!_" ringing too loud, methought, to
+be good metal; the "_Suoni la tromba_" at that night's theatre,--the
+digging at the fortifications,--women carrying huge stones,--men more
+willing to shout for them than to do their own share,--Capuchin friars
+digging with the best,--finally, the wild dance of men, women, cowled
+and bearded monks, all together, brandishing their spades and shovels in
+cadence to the military band. With this came to me the mild smile and
+doubtful shake of the head of the good Admiral Baudin, and his prophetic
+remark,--"I have seen much fighting in various parts of the world; and
+if these men mean to fight, I cannot comprehend them."
+
+While this mental diorama was unrolling, even Sicilian laziness had time
+to reach the shore; and passing by a rough mass of rocks, where our
+second cutter had once run too close for comfort, and the Friedland's
+launch had upset and lost two men, we at length landed close to the city
+gate. A custom-house officer pounced on us for a fee, notwithstanding
+our examination on first landing, and ("_uno avulso, non deficit aureus
+alter_,") at the city gate, not thirty yards distant, a third repeated
+the demand, equivalent to "Your money or your keys." A capital breakfast
+at the Trinacria hotel was the fitting conclusion to these oft-recorded
+troubles, and the gratifying news that the Viceroy had just left the
+island for Naples obviated the necessity of a formal visit, and left us
+free to enjoy the notabilities of Palermo.
+
+The plan of this beautiful city is very simple, being a tolerably
+accurate square, surrounded by walls, of which the northern face skirts
+the sea, and the southern faces the head of the lovely valley in which
+the city stands,--the Golden Shell. Two perfectly straight streets,
+intersecting in a small, but highly ornamented _piazza_, traverse
+the city. The Toledo, or Via Cassaro,--for it bears both these
+designations,--runs from the sea to the Monreale gate, close to which is
+the Royal Palace, and the Cathedral square opens from this street. The
+Via Macqueda contains few buildings of interest except the University.
+Between the wall and the sea runs the magnificent Marina, a more
+beautiful promenade than even the Villa Reale of Naples, having on the
+right the low but picturesque headland of Bagaria, while on the left
+rise the all but perpendicular rocks of Monte Pellegrino, once the
+impregnable mountain-throne of Hamilcar Barcas, and later the spot where
+in a rude cavern, now sheeted with marble and jasper, "from all the
+youth of Sicily, Saint Rosalie retired to God." The handicraftsmen of
+Palermo still occupy almost exclusively the streets named after their
+trades,--an indication of immobility rarely to be met with nowadays,
+though Rome displays it in a minor degree.
+
+We first visited the University Museum. Numerous pictures, far beyond
+the ordinary degree of badness, occupy the upper rooms, where the only
+object of interest is a very fine and well-preserved bronze of Hercules
+and the Pompeian Fawn, half life-size. But far beyond all else in
+artistic importance are the _metopes_ from Selinuntium, which, though
+much damaged, show marks of high excellence. They are of clearly
+different dates, though all very archaic. The oldest represent Perseus
+cutting off the Gorgon's head, and Hercules killing two thieves. Perseus
+has the calm, sleepy look of a Hindoo god,--while Gorgon's head, with
+goggle eyes and protruding tongue, resembles a Mexican idol. Hercules
+and the thieves have more of an Egyptian character. The material of
+these bas-reliefs is coarse limestone; and in the _metopes_ on the
+opposite wall, which are clearly of later date, recourse has been had to
+a curious method of obtaining delicacy in the female forms: the faces,
+hands, and feet, which alone are visible from among the drapery, are
+formed of fine marble. An Actæon torn by his dogs is much corroded by
+sea air, but displays great nobleness of attitude. The vigor in the left
+arm, which has throttled one of the dogs, can hardly be surpassed. A
+portion of the _cella_, of one of the temples has been removed hither,
+and its brilliant polychromy is sufficient to decide the argument as to
+the existence of the practice, if, indeed, that point be yet in doubt.
+But it seems that the non-colorists have relinquished the parallel of
+architecture, which, be it observed, they formerly defended obstinately,
+and have now intrenched themselves in the citadel of sculpture,
+intending to hold it against all evidence. The only other object of much
+interest was a Pompeian fresco, representing two actors, whose attitudes
+and masks are so strikingly adapted to express the first scene of the
+"Heautontimorumenos," between Menalcas and Chremes, that it seems
+scarcely doubtful that this is actually the subject of the painting.
+
+Near the upper end of the Toledo the Cathedral is situated, not very
+favorably for effect, as only the eastern side is sufficiently free from
+buildings. It is a noble pile: Northern power and piety expressed by
+the agency of Southern and Arabic workmen, and somewhat affected by the
+nationality of the artificer.
+
+The stones are fretted and carved more elaborately than those of any
+French or English cathedral, but entirely in arabesques and diapering of
+low relief, so that the spectator misses with regret the solemn rows of
+saints and patriarchs that enrich the portals of our Gothic minsters.
+These, however, are reflections of a subsequent date, and did not
+interfere to mar the pleasure with which we sat in front of the southern
+door, beneath the two lofty arches, which, springing from the entrance
+tower, span the street high above our heads. For some time we sat,
+unwilling to change and it might be impair our sensations by passing
+inwards. Our reluctance was but too well founded: the whole interior has
+been modernized in detestable Renaissance style, and in place of highest
+honor, above the central doorway, sits in tight-buttoned uniform a
+fitting idol for so ugly a shrine, the double-chinned effigy of the
+reigning monarch. We turned for comfort to a chapel on the right, where
+in four sarcophagi of porphyry are deposited the remains of the Northern
+sovereigns. The bones of Roger repose in a plain oblong chest with a
+steep ridged roof, and the other three coffins, though somewhat more
+elaborate, are yet simple and massive, as befits their destined use. The
+inscription, on that of Constantia is touching, as it tells that she
+was "the last of the great race of Northmen,"--the good old bad Latin
+"Northmannorum" giving the proper title, which we have injudiciously
+softened into Norman.
+
+In a small _piazza_ near the intersection of the main streets is a
+Dominican church, whose black and white inlaid marbles are amazing in
+their elaborateness, astounding in their preposterously bad taste. They
+transcend description, and can be faintly imagined only by such as
+know a huge marble nightmare of waves and clouds in the south aisle
+of Westminster Abbey. This church contains one good painting of a
+triumphant experiment conducted by some Dominican friars in the presence
+of sundry Ulemas and Muftis: a Koran and Bible have been thrown into a
+blazing fire, and the result is as satisfactory as that of Hercules's
+death-grapple with the Nemean lion. To be sure, lions and Turks are
+not painters. The Martorana church is rich in gold-grounded mosaics,
+resembling Saint Mark's at Venice. One represents the coronation of
+Roger Guiscard by the Saviour: very curious, as showing at how early a
+date the invaders laid claim to the Right Divine. The inscription is
+also noteworthy: _Rogerius Rex_, in the Latin tongue, but the Greek
+characters, thus: [Greek: ROGERIOS RAEX].[a] The Renaissance has invaded
+this church too, and flowery inlaid marbles with gilded scroll balconies
+(it is a nuns' church) mingle with the bold discs and oblong panels of
+porphyry and green serpentine. In the nave of the small church sat in
+comfortable arm-chairs two monks, one black, one white, leaning their
+ears to gilded grates and receiving the confessions of the sisterhood.
+The paschal candlestick stood in front of the high altar,--Ascension-Day
+not being past; but here, as in other Sicilian churches, it assumes the
+form of a seven-branched tree, generally of bronze bedecked with gold.
+These same nuns' balconies are not confined to the interior of churches,
+but form a distinct and picturesque feature in the long line of the
+Toledo. Projecting in a bold curve whose undersurface is gaily painted
+in arabesque, their thick bars and narrow openings nevertheless leave a
+gloomy impression on the mind, while they add to the Oriental character
+of the city. A somewhat unsuccessful effort to identify the church whose
+bell gave signal for the Sicilian Vespers closed our day's labor. The
+spot is clearly defined and easily recognizable, and a small church, now
+shut up, occupies the site. So far, so good; but the cloister which is
+distinctly mentioned cannot now be found, nor is it easy to perceive
+where it could have stood. Perhaps some change in the neighboring harbor
+may have swept it away.
+
+[Footnote a: The _e_ in _Rex_ is here rendered by the Greek eta,--a
+proof that the pronunciation of that letter was similar to that of our
+long _a_, and not like our double _ee_; although the modern Greeks
+support the latter pronunciation.]
+
+_23d April_. To those who take interest in the efforts of that age when
+Christianity, devoid at once of artistic knowledge and of mechanical,
+strove from among the material and moral wreck of Paganism to create for
+herself a school of Art which should, despite of all short-comings, be
+the exponent of those high feelings which inspired her mind, the Royal
+Chapel of Palermo offers a delightful object of study. Less massive than
+the gloomily grand basilicas of Rome and Ravenna, surpassed in single
+features by other churches, as, for instance, the Cathedral of Salerno,
+it contains, nevertheless, such perfect specimens of Christian Art in
+its various phases, that this one small building seems a hand-book in
+itself. The floor and walls are covered with excellently preserved and
+highly polished Alexandrine mosaic, flowing in varied convolutions of
+green and gold and red round the broad crimson and gray shields, whose
+circular forms recall the mighty monolith columns of porphyry and
+granite which yielded such noble spoils. The honey-combed pendentines of
+the ceiling must be due to Arab workmen; their like may yet be found in
+Cairo or the Alhambra; while below the narrow windows, and extending
+downwards to the marble panelling, runs a grand series of gold-grounded
+mosaics, their subjects taken from the Old and New Testaments. But
+far older than even these are the colossal grim circles of saints and
+apostles who cling to the roof of the choir, and yield in size only to
+the awful figures of the Saviour, the Virgin, and Saint Paul, enthroned
+in the _apsides_ of the nave and aisles. The _ambones_, though not
+so large as those of Salerno, are very gorgeous; and the paschal
+candlestick, here at all events in its usual shape, is of deeply-carved
+marble, and displays an incongruous assemblage of youths, maidens,
+beasts, birds, and bishops, hanging each from other like a curtain of
+swarming bees.
+
+Service, which had been going on in the choir when we arrived, had now
+ceased; but from the crypt below arose a chant so harsh, vibratory,
+and void of solemnity, that we were irresistibly reminded of the
+subterranean chorus of demons in "Robert le Diable." Two of us ventured
+below and discovered the chapter, all robed in purple, sitting round a
+pall with a presumable coffin underneath. Little of reverence did they
+show,--it is true, the death was not recent, the service being merely
+commemorative, as we afterwards learned,--and as the procession shortly
+afterwards emerged and proceeded down the chapel, the unwashed,
+unshaven, and sensual countenances of some of highest rank among them
+gave small reason to believe that they could feel much reverence on any
+subject whatever.
+
+The Palace itself is as tedious as any other palace: the Pompeian room
+follows the Louis Quinze, and is in turn followed by the Chinese, till,
+for our comfort, we emerged into one large square hall, whose stiff
+mosaics of archers killing stags, peacocks feeding at the foot of
+willow-pattern trees, date from the time of Roger. Another wearisome
+series of rooms succeeded, which we were bound to traverse in search of
+a bronze ram of old Greek workmanship, brought from Syracuse. The work
+is very good and well-preserved; in fact, no part is injured, save the
+tail and a hind leg, whose loss the _custode_ ascribed to the villains
+of the late revolution. He even charged them with the destruction of
+another similar statue melted into bullets, if we may believe his
+incredible tale. A pavilion over the Monreale gate commands a view right
+down the Toledo to the sea.
+
+The drive to Monreale is a continued ascent along the skirts of a
+limestone rock, whose precipices are thickly planted at every foothold
+with olive, Indian fig, and aloe. The valley, as it spread below our
+gaze, appeared one huge carpet of heavy-fruited orange-trees, save where
+at times a rent in the web left visible the bluish blades of wheat, or
+the intense green of a flax-plantation.
+
+Monreale is a mere country-town, containing no object of interest, save
+the Cathedral. This is a noble basilica, grandly proportioned, the nave
+and aisles of which are separated by monolith pillars, mostly of gray
+granite, and some few of cipollino and other marbles, the spoils, no
+doubt, of the ancient Panormus. Above the cornice the walls are entirely
+sheeted with golden mosaics, representing, as usual, Scripture history.
+The series which begins, like the speech of the Intendant in "Les
+Plaideurs," "_Avant la creation du monde_" complies with the wish of
+(the judge?) by going on to the Deluge, in a train of singularly meagre
+figures, most haggard of whom is Cain, here represented (as in the Campo
+Santo of Pisa) receiving his death accidentally from the hand of Lamech.
+In the passage of the beasts to the Ark, Noah coaxes the lion on board,
+and in the next compartment the patriarch shoves the king of beasts down
+the plank in a most ludicrous fashion. The mosaics of the New Testament
+are less archaic, though still very old, too old to be infected by the
+tricks of later Romanism,--such, for instance, as introducing the Virgin
+among the receivers of the mysterious gift of tongues. Saint Paul, both
+here and at the Royal Chapel, appears under the earlier type adopted
+whether by fancy or tradition to represent that saint,--that is, a
+short, strong figure, with the head large, and almost devoid of hair,
+except at the sides, and one dark lock in the centre of the massive
+forehead. Over the western door-way is a mosaic of the Virgin with the
+following leonine and loyal distich beneath it:--
+
+ "Sponsa suae prolis, O Stella puerpera Solis,
+ Pro cunctis ora, sed plus pro rege labora!"
+
+There is an ample square cloister, with twenty-seven pairs of columns on
+each side, once richly decorated in mosaics like those of San Giovanni
+Laterano and San Paolo at Rome, but even more dilapidated than either
+of these latter. Indeed, so entirely non-existent is the mosaic, the
+twisted and channelled columns showing nothing but places "where the
+pasty is not," that the more probable solution may be that want of funds
+or of devotion has left the work unfinished. On the capital of one
+column may be seen the figure of William the Good, who founded the
+Cathedral in 1170. He bears in his arms a model of the building, which
+here appears with circular-headed windows instead of the lanceolated
+Gothic now existing.
+
+In, perhaps, the very loveliest of the many lovely sites around Palermo
+stands the small Moorish building of La Ziza. Moorish it may be called;
+for the main feature of the edifice, a hall with a fountain trickling
+along a channel in the pavements, is clearly due to the Saracens. These,
+however, had availed themselves of Roman columns to support their
+fretted ceilings, once gorgeous in color, but now desecrated with
+whitewash. The Norman invaders have added their never-failing gold
+mosaic,--while the Spaniard, after painting sundry scenes from Ovid's
+"Metamorphoses" in a dreadfully barocco style, calls upon the world,
+in those magniloquent phrases which somehow belong as of right to your
+mighty Don, to admire the exquisite commingling of modern art with
+antique beauty, to which his _fiat_ has given birth.
+
+Somewhat of Spain, perhaps, might also be traced in an incident,
+promisingly romantic, but coming to a most lame and impotent conclusion,
+which occurred this afternoon to one of our party. While busily
+sketching, in the Martorana church, the previously mentioned mosaic of
+Roger's coronation, a hand protruded from the gilded lattice above,
+and a small scroll was dropped, not precisely at the feet, but in the
+neighborhood of the amazed artist. Sharp eyes, however, must be at work;
+for, ere he could appropriate this mysterious waif on Love's manor, a
+side-door opened, and an attendant in the very unpoetical garb of a
+carpenter bore off the prize. It maybe presumed that the next confessor
+who occupied an arm-chair in the church would have somewhat of novelty
+to enliven what some priests have stated to be the most wearisome of the
+work, namely, the hearing of confessions in a nunnery.
+
+This evening was passed in the house of the British Consul, who, in
+amusing recognition of our nationalities, comprising, as they did,
+both branches of the Anglo-Saxon race, treated us to Lemann's
+captain's-biscuit and Boston crackers. Notwithstanding the interesting
+conversation of our host, who had not allowed a residence of many years
+in a mind-rusting city to impair his love of literature, a love dating
+from the time when Praed edited the "Etonian," and Metius Tarpa
+contributed to the "College Magazine," we were obliged to leave early.
+Our arrangements for a very early start next morning were completed, and
+a thirty miles' ride lay before us.
+
+To save further allusion to them, it may be as well to describe these
+arrangements, which were made for us by Signor Ragusa, landlord of the
+Trinacria hotel. A guide, Giuseppe Agnello by name, took upon himself
+the whole responsibility of our board, lodging, and travelling, at a
+fixed rate of forty-two (?) _carlini_ a head,--which sum, including his
+_buonamano_ and return voyage from Syracuse or Messina, amounted to
+about twenty francs each _per diem_. For this sum he furnished us with
+good mules, a hearty breakfast at daybreak, cold meat and hard eggs at
+noon, and a plentiful dinner or supper, call it which you choose, on
+arriving at our night's quarters. Agnello himself was cook, and proved
+a very tolerable one. This is essential; for Spanish custom prevails
+in the inns, whose host considers his duty accomplished when he has
+provided ample stabling for the mules and dubious bedding for his biped
+guests.
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PROFESSOR'S STORY.
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+PHYSIOLOGICAL.
+
+
+If Master Bernard felt a natural gratitude to his young pupil for saving
+him from an imminent peril, he was in a state of infinite perplexity
+to know why he should have needed such aid. He, an active, muscular,
+courageous, adventurous young fellow, with a stick in his hand, ready to
+hold down the Old Serpent himself, if he had come in his way, to stand
+still, staring into those two eyes, until they came up close to him,
+and the strange, terrible sound seemed to freeze him stiff where he
+stood,--what was the meaning of it? Again, what was the influence this
+girl had exerted, under which the venomous creature had collapsed in
+such a sudden way? Whether he had been awake or dreaming he did not feel
+quite sure. He knew he had gone up The Mountain, at any rate; he knew he
+had come down The Mountain with the girl walking just before him;--there
+was no forgetting her figure, as she walked on in silence, her braided
+locks falling a little, for want of the lost hair-pin, perhaps, and
+looking like a wreathing coil of--Shame on such fancies!--to wrong that
+supreme crowning gift of abounding Nature, a rush of shining black hair,
+that, shaken loose, would cloud her all round, like Godiva, from brow to
+instep! He was sure he had sat down before the fissure or cave. He was
+sure that he was led softly away from the place, and that it was Elsie
+who had led him. There was the hair-pin to show that so far it was not a
+dream. But between these recollections came a strange confusion; and the
+more the master thought, the more he was perplexed to know whether she
+had waked him, sleeping, as he sat on the stone, from some frightful
+dream, such as may come in a very brief slumber, or whether she had
+bewitched him into a trance with those strange eyes of hers, or whether
+it was all true, and he must solve its problem as he best might.
+
+There was another recollection connected with this mountain adventure.
+As they approached the mansion-house, they met a young man, whom Mr.
+Bernard remembered having seen once at least before, and whom he had
+heard of as a cousin of the young girl. As Cousin Richard Venner, the
+person in question, passed them, he took the measure, so to speak, of
+Mr. Bernard, with a look so piercing, so exhausting, so practised, so
+profoundly suspicious, that the young master felt in an instant that he
+had an enemy in this handsome youth,--an enemy, too, who was like to be
+subtle and dangerous.
+
+Mr. Bernard had made up his mind, that, come what might, enemy or no
+enemy, live or die, he would solve the mystery of Elsie Venner, sooner
+or later. He was not a man to be frightened out of his resolution by a
+scowl, or a stiletto, or any unknown means of mischief, of which a whole
+armory was hinted at in that passing look Dick Venner had given him.
+Indeed, like most adventurous young persons, he found a kind of charm
+in feeling that there might be some dangers in the way of his
+investigations. Some rumors which had reached him about the supposed
+suitor of Elsie Venner, who was thought to be a desperate kind of
+fellow, and whom some believed to be an unscrupulous adventurer, added
+a curious, romantic kind of interest to the course of physiological and
+psychological inquiries he was about instituting.
+
+The afternoon on The Mountain was still uppermost in his mind. Of course
+he knew the common stories about fascination. He had once been himself
+an eyewitness of the charming of a small bird by one of our common
+harmless serpents. Whether a human being could be reached by this
+subtile agency, he had been skeptical, notwithstanding the mysterious
+relation generally felt to exist between man and this creature, "cursed
+above all cattle and above every beast of the field,"--a relation which
+some interpret as the fruit of the curse, and others hold to be so
+instinctive that this animal has been for that reason adopted as the
+natural symbol of evil. There was another solution, however, supplied
+him by his professional reading. The curious work of Mr. Braid of
+Manchester had made him familiar with the phenomena of a state allied to
+that produced by animal magnetism, and called by that writer by the name
+of _hypnotism_. He found, by referring to his note-book, the statement
+was, that, by fixing the eyes on a _bright object_ so placed as _to
+produce a strain_ upon the eyes and eyelids, and to maintain _a steady
+fixed stare_, there comes on in a few seconds a very singular condition,
+characterized by _muscular rigidity_ and _inability to move_, with a
+strange _exaltation of most of the senses_, and _generally_ a closure of
+the eyelids,--this condition being followed by _torpor_.
+
+Now this statement of Mr. Braid's, well known to the scientific world,
+and the truth of which had been confirmed by Mr. Bernard in certain
+experiments he had instituted, as it has been by many other
+experimenters, went far to explain the strange impressions, of which,
+waking or dreaming, he had certainly been the subject. His nervous
+system had been in a high state of exaltation at the time. He remembered
+how the little noises that made rings of sound in the silence of the
+woods, like pebbles dropped in still waters, had reached his inner
+consciousness. He remembered that singular sensation in the roots of the
+hair, when he came on the traces of the girl's presence, reminding him
+of a line in a certain poem which he had read lately with a new and
+peculiar interest. He even recalled a curious evidence of exalted
+sensibility and irritability, in the twitching of the minute muscles of
+the internal ear at every unexpected sound, producing an odd little
+snap in the middle of the head, that proved to him he was getting very
+nervous.
+
+The next thing was to find out whether it were possible that the
+venomous creature's eyes should have served the purpose of Mr. Braid's
+"bright object" held very close to the person experimented on, or
+whether they had any special power which could be made the subject of
+exact observation.
+
+For this purpose Mr. Bernard considered it necessary to get a live
+_crotalus_ or two into his possession, if this were possible. On
+inquiry, he found that there was a certain family living far up the
+mountain-side, not a mile from the ledge, the members of which were said
+to have taken these creatures occasionally, and not to be in any danger,
+or at least in any fear, of being injured by them. He applied to these
+people, and offered a reward sufficient to set them at work to capture
+some of these animals, if such a thing were possible.
+
+A few days after this, a dark, gypsy-looking woman presented herself at
+his door. She held up her apron as if it contained something precious in
+the bag she made with it.
+
+"Y'wanted some rattlers," said the woman. "Here they be."
+
+She opened her apron and showed a coil of rattlesnakes lying very
+peaceably in its fold. They lifted their heads up, as if they wanted to
+see what was going on, but showed no sign of anger.
+
+"Are you crazy?" said Mr. Bernard. "You're dead in an hour, if one of
+those creatures strikes you!"
+
+He drew back a little, as he spoke; it might be simple disgust; it might
+be fear; it might be what we call antipathy, which is different from
+either, and which will sometimes show itself in paleness, and even
+faintness, produced by objects perfectly harmless and not in themselves
+offensive to any sense.
+
+"Lord bless you," said the woman, "rattlers never touches our folks. I'd
+jest 'z lieves handle them creaturs as so many striped snakes."
+
+So saying, she put their heads down with her hand, and packed them
+together in her apron as if they had been bits of cart-rope.
+
+Mr. Bernard had never heard of the power, or, at least, the belief in
+the possession of a power by certain persons, which enables them to
+handle these frightful reptiles with perfect impunity. The fact,
+however, is well known to others, and more especially to a very
+distinguished Professor in one of the leading institutions of the great
+city of the land, whose experiences in the neighborhood of Graylock, as
+he will doubtless inform the curious, were very much like those of the
+young master.
+
+Mr. Bernard had a wired cage ready for his formidable captives, and
+studied their habits and expression with a strange sort of interest.
+What did the Creator mean to signify, when he made such shapes of
+horror, and, as if he had doubly cursed this envenomed wretch, had set
+a mark upon him and sent him forth, the Cain of the brotherhood of
+serpents? It was a very curious fact that the first train of thoughts
+Mr. Bernard's small menagerie suggested to him was the grave, though
+somewhat worn, subject of the origin of evil. There is now to be seen in
+a tall glass jar, in the Museum of Comparative Anatomy at Cantabridge
+in the territory of the Massachusetts, a huge _crotalus_, of a species
+which grows to more frightful dimensions than our own, under the hotter
+skies of South America. Look at it, ye who would know what is the
+tolerance, the freedom from prejudice, which can suffer such an
+incarnation of all that is devilish to lie unharmed in the cradle of
+Nature! Learn, too, that there are many things in this world which we
+are warned to shun, and are even suffered to slay, if need be, but which
+we must not hate, unless we would hate what God loves and cares for.
+
+Whatever fascination the creature might exercise in his native haunts,
+Mr. Bernard found himself not in the least nervous or affected in any
+way while looking at his caged reptiles. When their cage was shaken,
+they would lift their heads and spring their rattles; but the sound was
+by no means so formidable to listen to as when it reverberated among
+the chasms of the echoing rocks. The expression of the creatures was
+watchful, still, grave, passionless, fate-like, suggesting a cold
+malignity that seemed to be waiting for its opportunity. Their awful,
+deep-cut mouths were sternly closed over the long hollow fangs that
+rested their roots against the swollen poison-bag, where the venom had
+been boarding up ever since the last stroke had emptied it. They never
+winked, for ophidians have no movable eyelids, but kept up that awful
+fixed stare which made the two _unwinking_ gladiators the survivors of
+twenty pairs matched by one of the Roman Emperors, as Pliny tells us, in
+his "Natural History." But their eyes did not flash, as he had expected
+to see them. They were of a pale-golden or straw color, horrible to look
+into, with their stony calmness, their pitiless indifference, hardly
+enlivened by the almost imperceptible vertical slit of the pupil,
+through which Death seemed to be looking out like the archer behind the
+long narrow loop-hole in a blank turret-wall. Possibly their pupils
+might open wide enough in the dark hole of the rock to let the glare
+of the back part of the eye show, as we often see it in cats and other
+animals. On the whole, the caged reptiles, horrid as they were, were yet
+very different from his recollections of what he had seen or dreamed
+he saw at the cavern. These looked dangerous enough, but yet quiet. A
+treacherous stillness, however,--as the unfortunate New York physician
+found, when he put his foot out to wake up the torpid creature, and
+instantly the fang flashed through his boot, carrying the poison into
+his blood, and death with it.
+
+Mr. Bernard kept these strange creatures, and watched all their habits
+with a natural curiosity. In any collection of animals the venomous
+beasts are looked at with the greatest interest, just as the greatest
+villains are most run after by the unknown public. Nobody troubles
+himself for a common striped snake or a petty thief, but a _cobra_ or a
+wife-killer is a centre of attraction to all eyes. These captives did
+very little to earn their living; but, on the other hand, their living
+was not expensive, their diet being nothing but air, _au nature_. Months
+and months these creatures will live and seem to thrive well enough,
+as any showman who has them in his menagerie will testify, though they
+never touch anything to eat or drink.
+
+In the mean time Mr. Bernard had become very curious about a class of
+subjects not treated of in any detail in those text-books accessible in
+most country-towns, to the exclusion of the more special treatises, and
+especially the rare and ancient works found on the shelves of the larger
+city-libraries. He was on a visit to old Dr. Kittredge one day, having
+been asked by him to call in for a few moments as soon as convenient.
+The Doctor smiled good-humoredly when he asked him if he had an
+extensive collection of medical works.
+
+"Why, no," said the old Doctor, "I haven't got a great many printed
+books; and what I have I don't read quite as often as I might, I'm
+afraid. I read and studied in the time of it, when I was in the midst of
+the young men who were all at work with their books; but it's a mighty
+hard matter, when you go off alone into the country, to keep up with
+all that's going on in the Societies and the Colleges. I'll tell you,
+though, Mr. Langdon, when a man that's once started right lives among
+sick folks for five-and-thirty years, as I've done, if he hasn't got a
+library of five-and-thirty volumes bound up in his head at the end of
+that time, he'd better stop driving round and sell his horse and sulky.
+I know the better part of the families within a dozen miles' ride. I
+know the families that have a way of living through everything, and I
+know the other set that have the trick of dying without any kind of
+reason for it. I know the years when the fevers and dysenteries are in
+earnest, and when they're only making believe. I know the folks that
+think they're dying as soon as they're sick, and the folks that never
+find out they're sick till they're dead. I don't want to undervalue your
+science, Mr. Langdon. There are things I never learned, because they
+came in after my day, and I am very glad to send my patients to those
+that do know them, when I am at fault; but I know these people about
+here, fathers and mothers, and children and grandchildren, so as all the
+science in the world can't know them, without it takes time about it,
+and sees them grow up and grow old, and how the wear and tear of life
+comes to them. You can't tell a horse by driving him once, Mr. Langdon,
+nor a patient by talking half an hour with him."
+
+"Do you know much about the Venner family?" said Mr. Bernard, in a
+natural way enough, the Doctor's talk having suggested the question.
+
+The Doctor lifted his head with his accustomed movement, so as to
+command the young man through his spectacles.
+
+"I know all the families of this place and its neighborhood," he
+answered.
+
+"We have the young lady studying with us at the Institute," said Mr.
+Bernard.
+
+"I know it," the Doctor answered. "Is she a good scholar?"
+
+All this time the Doctor's eyes were fixed steadily on Mr. Bernard,
+looking through the glasses.
+
+"She is a good scholar enough, but I don't know what to make of her.
+Sometimes I think she is a little out of her head. Her father, I
+believe, is sensible enough;--what sort of a woman was her mother,
+Doctor?--I suppose, of course, you remember all about her?"
+
+"Yes, I knew her mother. She was a very lovely young woman."--The Doctor
+put his hand to his forehead and drew a long breath.--"What is there you
+notice out of the way about Elsie Venner?"
+
+"A good many things," the master answered. "She shuns all the other
+girls. She is getting a strange influence over my fellow-teacher, a
+young lady,--you know Miss Helen Darley, perhaps? I am afraid this girl
+will kill her. I never saw or heard of anything like it, in prose at
+least;--do you remember much of Coleridge's Poems, Doctor?"
+
+The good old Doctor had to plead a negative.
+
+"Well, no matter. Elsie would have been burned for a witch in old times.
+I have seen the girl look at Miss Darley when she had not the least idea
+of it, and all at once I would see her grow pale and moist, and sigh,
+and move round uneasily, and turn towards Elsie, and perhaps get up and
+go to her, or else have slight spasmodic movements that looked like
+hysterics;--do you believe in the evil eye, Doctor?"
+
+"Mr. Langdon," the Doctor said, solemnly, "there are strange things
+about Elsie Venner,--very strange things. This was what I wanted to
+speak to you about. Let me advise you all to be very patient with the
+girl, but also very careful. Her love is not to be desired, and"--he
+whispered softly--"her hate is to be dreaded. Do you think she has any
+special fancy for anybody else in the school besides Miss Darley?"
+
+Mr. Bernard could not stand the old Doctor's spectacled eyes without
+betraying a little of the feeling natural to a young man to whom a home
+question involving a possible sentiment is put suddenly.
+
+"I have suspected," he said,--"I have had a kind of feeling--that
+she--Well, come, Doctor,--I don't know that there's any use in
+disguising the matter,--I have thought Elsie Venner had rather a fancy
+for somebody else,--I mean myself."
+
+There was something so becoming in the blush with which the young man
+made this confession, and so manly, too, in the tone with which he
+spoke, so remote from any shallow vanity, such as young men who are
+incapable of love are apt to feel, when some loose tendril of a woman's
+fancy which a chance wind has blown against them twines about them
+for the want of anything better, that the old Doctor looked at him
+admiringly, and could not help thinking that it was no wonder any young
+girl should be pleased with him.
+
+"You are a man of nerve, Mr. Langdon?" said the Doctor.
+
+"I thought so till very lately," he replied. "I am not easily
+frightened, but I don't know but I might be bewitched or magnetized, or
+whatever it is when one is tied up and cannot move. I think I can find
+nerve enough, however, if there is any special use you want to put it
+to."
+
+"Let me ask you one more question, Mr. Langdon. Do you find yourself
+disposed to take a special interest in Elsie,--to fall in love with her,
+in a word? Pardon me, for I do not ask from curiosity, but a much more
+serious motive."
+
+"Elsie interests me," said the young man, "interests me strangely. She
+has a wild flavor in her character which is wholly different from that
+of any human creature I ever saw. She has marks of genius,--poetic or
+dramatic,--I hardly know which. She read a passage from Keats's 'Lamia'
+the other day, in the school-room, in such a way that I declare to you I
+thought some of the girls would faint or go into fits. Miss Darley got
+up and left the room, trembling all over. Then I pity her, she is so
+lonely. The girls are afraid of her, and she seems to have either a
+dislike or a fear of them. They have all sorts of painful stories about
+her. They give her a name that no human creature ought to bear. They say
+she hides a mark on her neck by always wearing a necklace. She is very
+graceful, you know, and they will have it that she can twist herself
+into all sorts of shapes, or tie herself in a knot, if she wants to.
+There is not one of them that will look her in the eyes. I pity the poor
+girl; but, Doctor, I do not love her. I would risk my life for her, if
+it would do her any good, but it would be in cold blood. If her hand
+touches mine, it is not a thrill of passion I feel running through me,
+but a very different emotion. Oh, Doctor! there must be something in
+that creature's blood that has killed the humanity in her. God only
+knows the mystery that has blighted such a soul in so beautiful a body!
+No, Doctor, I do not love the girl."
+
+"Mr. Langdon," said the Doctor, "you are young, and I am old. Let me
+talk to you with an old man's privilege, as an adviser. You have come to
+this country-town without suspicion, and you are moving in the midst of
+perils. There is a mystery which I must not tell you now; but I may warn
+you. Keep your eyes open and your heart shut. If, through pitying that
+girl, you ever come to love her, you are lost. If you deal carelessly
+with her, beware! This is not all. There are other eyes on you beside
+Elsie Venner's.--Do you go armed?"
+
+"I do!" said Mr. Bernard,--and he 'put his hands up' in the shape of
+fists, in such a way as to show that he was master of the natural
+weapons at any rate.
+
+The Doctor could not help smiling. But his face fell in an instant.
+
+"You may want something more than those tools to work with. Come with me
+into my sanctum."
+
+The Doctor led Mr. Bernard into a small room opening out of the study.
+It was a place such as anybody but a medical man would shiver to enter.
+There was the usual tall box with its bleached rattling tenant; there
+were jars in rows where "interesting cases" outlived the grief of widows
+and heirs in alcoholic immortality,--for your "preparation-jar" is the
+true "_monumentum aere perennius_"; there were various semipossibilities
+of minute dimensions and unpromising developments; there were shining
+instruments of evil aspect, and grim plates on the walls, and on one
+shelf by itself, accursed and apart, coiled in a long cylinder of
+spirit, a huge _crotalus_, rough-scaled, flat-headed, variegated with
+dull bands, one of which partially encircled the neck like a collar,--an
+awful wretch to look upon, with murder written all over him in horrid
+hieroglyphics. Mr. Bernard's look was riveted on this creature,--not
+fascinated certainly, for its eyes looked like white beads, being
+clouded by the action of the spirits in which it had been long
+kept,--but fixed by some indefinite sense of the renewal of a previous
+impression;--everybody knows the feeling, with its suggestion of some
+past state of existence. There was a scrap of paper on the jar with
+something written on it. He was reaching up to read it when the Doctor
+touched him lightly.
+
+"Look here, Mr. Langdon!" he said, with a certain vivacity of manner, as
+if wishing to call away his attention,--"this is my armory."
+
+The Doctor threw open the door of a small cabinet, where were disposed
+in artistic patterns various weapons of offence and defence,--for he was
+a virtuoso in his way, and by the side of the implements of the art of
+healing had pleased himself with displaying a collection of those other
+instruments, the use of which renders them necessary.
+
+"See which of these weapons you would like best to carry about you,"
+said the Doctor.
+
+Mr. Bernard laughed, and looked at the Doctor as if he half doubted
+whether he was in earnest.
+
+"This looks dangerous enough," he said,--"for the man that carries it,
+at least."
+
+He took down one of the prohibited Spanish daggers or knives which a
+traveller may occasionally get hold of and smuggle out of the country.
+The blade was broad, trowel-like, but the point drawn out several
+inches, so as to look like a skewer.
+
+"This must be a jealous bull-fighter's weapon," he said, and put it back
+in its place.
+
+Then he took down an ancient-looking broad-bladed dagger, with a complex
+aspect about it, as if it had some kind of mechanism connected with it.
+
+"Take care!" said the Doctor; "there is a trick to that dagger."
+
+He took it and touched a spring. The dagger split suddenly into three
+blades, as when one separates the forefinger and the ring-finger from
+the middle one. The outside blades were sharp on their outer edge. The
+stab was to be made with the dagger shut, then the spring touched and
+the split blades withdrawn.
+
+Mr. Bernard replaced it, saying, that it would have served for side-arm
+to old Suwarrow, who told his men to work their bayonets back and
+forward when they pinned a Turk, but to wriggle them about in the wound
+when they stabbed a Frenchman.
+
+"Here," said the Doctor, "this is the thing you want."
+
+He took down a much more modern and familiar implement,--a small,
+beautifully finished revolver.
+
+"I want you to carry this," he said; "and more than that, I want you to
+practise with it often, as for amusement, but so that it may be seen and
+understood that you are apt to have a pistol about you. Pistol-shooting
+is pleasant sport enough, and there is no reason why you should not
+practise it like other young fellows. And now," the Doctor said, "I have
+one other weapon to give you."
+
+He took a small piece of parchment and shook a white powder into it from
+one of his medicine-jars. The jar was marked with the name of a mineral
+salt, of a nature to have been serviceable in case of sudden illness in
+the time of the Borgias. The Doctor folded the parchment carefully and
+marked the Latin name of the powder upon it.
+
+"Here," he said, handing it to Mr. Bernard,--"you see what it is, and
+you know what service it can render. Keep these two protectors about
+your person day and night; they will not harm you, and you may want one
+or the other or both before you think of it."
+
+Mr. Bernard thought it was very odd, and not very old-gentleman like,
+to be fitting him out for treason, stratagem, and spoils, in this way.
+There was no harm, however, in carrying a doctor's powder in his pocket,
+or in amusing himself with shooting at a mark, as he had often done
+before. If the old gentleman had these fancies, it was as well to humor
+him. So he thanked old Doctor Kittredge, and shook his hand warmly as he
+left him.
+
+"The fellow's hand did not tremble, nor his color change," the Doctor
+said, as he watched him walking away. "He is one of the right sort."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+EPISTOLARY.
+
+
+_Mr. Langdon to the Professor._
+
+MY DEAR PROFESSOR,--
+
+You were kind enough to promise me that you would assist me in any
+professional or scientific investigations in which I might become
+engaged. I have of late become deeply interested in a class of subjects
+which present peculiar difficulty, and I must exercise the privilege of
+questioning you on some points upon which I desire information I cannot
+otherwise obtain. I would not trouble you, if I could find any person or
+books competent to enlighten me on some of these singular matters which
+have so excited me. The leading doctor here is a shrewd, sensible man,
+but not versed in the curiosities of medical literature.
+
+I proceed, with your leave, to ask a considerable number of
+questions,--hoping to get answers to some of them, at least.
+
+Is there any evidence that human beings can be infected or wrought
+upon by poisons, or otherwise, so that they shall manifest any of
+the peculiarities belonging to beings of a lower nature? Can such
+peculiarities be transmitted by inheritance? Is there anything to
+countenance the stories, long and widely current, about the "evil eye"?
+or is it a mere fancy that such a power belongs to any human being? Have
+you any personal experience as to the power of fascination said to be
+exercised by certain animals? What can you make of those circumstantial
+statements we have seen in the papers of children forming mysterious
+friendships with ophidians of different species, sharing their food with
+them, and seeming to be under some subtile influence exercised by those
+creatures? Have you read, critically, Coleridge's poem of "Christabel,"
+and Keats's "Lamia"? If so, can you understand them, or find any
+physiological foundation for the story of either?
+
+There is another set of questions of a different nature I should like to
+ask, but it is hardly fair to put so many on a single sheet. There
+is one, however, you must answer. Do you think there may be
+predispositions, inherited or ingrafted, but at any rate constitutional,
+which shall take out certain apparently voluntary determinations
+from the control of the will, and leave them as free from moral
+responsibility as the instincts of the lower animals? Do you not think
+there may be a _crime_ which is not a _sin_?
+
+Pardon me, my dear Sir, for troubling you with such a list of notes of
+interrogation. There are some _very strange_ things going on here in
+this place, country-town as it is. Country-life is apt to be dull; but
+when it once gets going, it beats the city hollow, because it gives its
+whole mind to what it is about. These rural sinners make terrible work
+with the middle of the Decalogue, when they get started. However, I hope
+I shall live through my year's school-keeping without catastrophes,
+though there are queer doings about me which puzzle me and might scare
+some people. If anything _should_ happen, you will be one of the first
+to hear of it, no doubt. But I trust not to help out the editors of the
+"Rockland Weekly Universe" with an obituary of the late lamented, who
+signed himself in life
+
+Your friend and pupil,
+
+BERNARD C. LANGDON.
+
+
+_The Professor to Mr. Langdon._
+
+MY DEAR MR. LANGDON,--
+
+I do not wonder that you find no answer from your country friends to the
+curious questions you put. They belong to that middle region between
+science and poetry which sensible men, as they are called, are very shy
+of meddling with. Some people think that truth and gold are always to be
+washed for; but the wiser sort are of opinion, that, unless there are so
+many grains to the peck of sand or nonsense respectively, it does not
+pay to wash for either, as long as one can find anything else to do. I
+don't doubt there is some truth in the phenomena of animal magnetism,
+for instance; but when you ask me to cradle for it, I tell you that
+the hysteric girls cheat so, and the professionals are such a set of
+pickpockets, that I can do something better than hunt for the grains of
+truth among their tricks and lies. Do you remember what I used to say in
+my lectures?--or were you asleep just then, or cutting your initials on
+the rail? (You see I can ask questions, my young friend.) _Leverage_ is
+everything,--was what I used to say;--don't begin to pry till you have
+got the long arm on your side.
+
+To please you, and satisfy your doubts as far as possible, I have looked
+into the old books,--into Schenckius and Turner and Kenelm Digby and the
+rest, where I have found plenty of curious stories which you must take
+for what they are worth.
+
+Your first question I can answer in the affirmative upon pretty good
+authority. Mizaldus tells, in his "Memorabilia," the well-known story
+of the girl fed on poisons, who was sent by the king of the Indies
+to Alexander the Great. "When Aristotle saw her eyes _sparkling and
+snapping like those of serpents_, he said, 'Look out for yourself,
+Alexander! this is a dangerous companion for you!'"--and sure enough,
+the young lady proved to be a very unsafe person to her friends.
+Cardanus gets a story from Avicenna, of a certain man bit by a serpent,
+who recovered of his bite, the snake dying therefrom. This man
+afterwards had a daughter whom no venomous serpent could harm, though
+_she had a fatal power over them_.
+
+I suppose you may remember the statements of old authors about
+_lycanthropy_, the disease in which men took on the nature and aspect of
+wolves. Aëtius and Paulus, both men of authority, describe it. Altomaris
+gives a horrid case; and Fincelius mentions one occurring as late as
+1541, the subject of which was captured, still _insisting that he was a
+wolf_, only that the hair of his hide was turned in! _Versipelles_, it
+may be remembered, was the Latin name for these "were-wolves."
+
+As for the cases where rabid persons have barked and bit like dogs,
+there are plenty of such on record.
+
+More singular, or at least more rare, is the account given by Andreas
+Baccius, of a man who was struck in the hand by a cock, with his beak,
+and who died on the third day thereafter, looking for all the world
+_like a fighting-cock_, to the great horror of the spectators.
+
+As to impressions transmitted _at a very early period of existence_,
+every one knows the story of King James's fear of a naked sword and the
+way it is accounted for. Sir Kenelm Digby says,--"I remember when he
+dubbed me Knight, in the ceremony of putting the point of a naked sword
+upon my shoulder, he could not endure to look upon it, but turned his
+face another way, insomuch, that, in lieu of touching my shoulder, he
+had almost thrust the point into my eyes, had not the Duke of Buckingham
+guided his hand aright." It is he, too, who tells the story of the
+_mulberry mark_ upon the neck of a certain lady of high condition, which
+"every year, in mulberry season, did swell, grow big, and itch." And
+Gaffarel mentions the case of a girl born with the figure of a _fish_ on
+one of her limbs, of which the wonder was, that, when the girl did eat
+fish, this mark put her to sensible pain. But there is no end to cases
+of this kind, and I could give some of recent date, if necessary,
+lending a certain plausibility at least to the doctrine of transmitted
+impressions.
+
+I never saw a distinct case of _evil eye_, though I have seen eyes so
+bad that they might produce strange effects on very sensitive natures.
+But the belief in it under various names, fascination, _jettatura_,
+etc., is so permanent and universal, from Egypt to Italy, and from the
+days of Solomon to those of Ferdinand of Naples, that there must be some
+_peculiarity_, to say the least, on which the opinion is based. There is
+very strong evidence that some such power is exercised by certain of the
+lower animals. Thus, it is stated on good authority that "almost every
+animal becomes panic-struck at the sight of the _rattlesnake_, and seems
+at once deprived of the power of motion, or the exercise of its usual
+instinct of self-preservation." Other serpents seem to share this power
+of fascination, as the _Cobra_ and the _Bucephalus Capensis_. Some think
+that it is nothing but fright; others attribute it to the
+
+ "strange powers that lie
+ Within the magic circle of the eye,"--
+
+as Churchill said, speaking of Garrick.
+
+You ask me about those mysterious and frightful intimacies between
+children and serpents of which so many instances have been recorded. I
+am sure I cannot tell what to make of them. I have seen several such
+accounts in recent papers, but here is one published in the seventeenth
+century which is as striking as any of the more modern ones:--
+
+"Mr. _Herbert Jones_ of _Monmouth_, when he was a little Boy, was used
+to eat his Milk in a Garden in the Morning, and was no sooner there, but
+a large Snake always came, and eat out of the Dish with him, and did so
+for a considerable time, till one Morning, he striking the Snake on the
+Head, it hissed at him. Upon which he told his Mother that the Baby (for
+so he call'd it) cry'd _Hiss_ at him. His Mother had it kill'd, which
+occasioned him a great _Fit of Sickness_, and 'twas thought would have
+dy'd, but did recover."
+
+There was likewise one "_William Writtle_, condemned at _Maidston
+Assizes_ for a double murder, told a Minister that was with him after he
+was condemned, that his mother told him, that when he was a Child, there
+crept always to him a Snake, wherever she laid him. Sometimes she would
+convey him up Stairs, and leave him never so little, she should be sure
+to find a Snake in the Cradle with him, but never perceived it did him
+any harm."
+
+One of the most striking alleged facts connected with the mysterious
+relation existing between the serpent and the human species is the
+influence which the poison of the _Crotalus_, taken internally, seemed
+to produce over the _moral faculties_, in the experiments instituted by
+Dr. Hering at Surinam. There is something frightful in the disposition
+of certain ophidians, as the whip-snake, which darts at the eyes of
+cattle without any apparent provocation or other motive. It is natural
+enough that the evil principle should have been represented in the form
+of a serpent, but it is strange to think of introducing it into a human
+being like cow-pox by vaccination.
+
+You know all about the _Psylli_, or ancient serpent-tamers, I suppose.
+Savary gives an account of the modern serpent-tamers in his "Letters on
+Egypt." These modern jugglers are in the habit of making the venomous
+_Naja_ counterfeit death, lying out straight and stiff, _changing it
+into a rod_, as the ancient magicians did with their serpents, (probably
+the same animal,) in the time of Moses.
+
+I am afraid I cannot throw much light on "Christabel" or "Lamia" by any
+criticism I can offer. Geraldine, in the former, seems to be simply
+a malignant witch-woman, with the _evil eye_, but with no absolute
+ophidian relationship. Lamia is a serpent transformed by magic into
+a woman. The idea of both is mythological, and not in any sense
+physiological. Some women unquestionably suggest the image of serpents;
+men rarely or never. I have been struck, like many others, with the
+ophidian head and eye of the famous Rachel.
+
+Your question about inherited predispositions, as limiting the sphere of
+the will, and, consequently, of moral accountability, opens a very wide
+range of speculation. I can give you only a brief abstract of my own
+opinions on this delicate and difficult subject. Crime and sin, being
+the _preserves_ of two great organized interests, have been guarded
+against all reforming poachers with as great jealousy as the Royal
+Forests. It is so easy to hang a troublesome fellow! It is so much
+simpler to consign a soul to perdition, or gay masses, for money, to
+save it, than to take the blame on ourselves for letting it grow up in
+neglect and run to ruin for want of humanizing influences! They hung
+poor, crazy Bellingham for shooting Mr. Perceval. The ordinary of
+Newgate preached to women who were to swing at Tyburn for a petty theft
+as if they were worse than other people,--just as though he would not
+have been a pickpocket or shoplifter, himself, if he had been born in
+a den of thieves and bred up to steal or starve! The English law never
+began to get hold of the idea that a crime was not necessarily a sin,
+till Hadfield, who thought he was the Saviour of mankind, was tried for
+shooting at George the Third;--lucky for him that he did not hit his
+Majesty!
+
+It is very singular that we recognize all the bodily defects that unfit
+a man for military service, and all the intellectual ones that limit his
+range of thought, but always talk at him as if all his moral powers were
+perfect I suppose we must punish evil-doers as we extirpate vermin; but
+I don't know that we have any more right to judge them than we have to
+judge rats and mice, which are just as good as cats and weasels, though
+we think it necessary to treat them as criminals.
+
+The limitations of human responsibility have never been properly
+studied, unless it be by the phrenologists. You know from my lectures
+that I consider phrenology, as taught, a pseudo-science, and not a
+branch of positive knowledge; but, for all that, we owe it an immense
+debt. It has melted the world's conscience in its crucible and cast it
+in a new mould, with features less like those of Moloch and more like
+those of humanity. If it has failed to demonstrate its system of special
+correspondences, it has proved that there are fixed relations between
+organization and mind and character. It has brought out that great
+doctrine of moral insanity, which has done more to make men charitable
+and soften legal and theological barbarism than any one doctrine that I
+can think of since the message of peace and good-will to men.
+
+Automatic action in the moral world; the _reflex movement_ which _seems_
+to be self-determination, and has been hanged and howled at as such
+(metaphorically) for nobody knows how many centuries: until somebody
+shall study this as Marshall Hall has studied reflex nervous action in
+the bodily system, I would not give much for men's judgments of each
+other's characters. Shut up the robber and the defaulter, we must. But
+what if your oldest boy had been stolen from his cradle and bred in a
+North-Street cellar? What if you are drinking a little too much wine and
+smoking a little too much tobacco, and your son takes after you, and so
+your poor grandson's brain being a little injured in physical texture,
+he loses the fine moral sense on which you pride yourself, and doesn't
+see the difference between signing another man's name to a draft and his
+own?
+
+I suppose the study of automatic action in the moral world (you see what
+I mean through the apparent contradiction of terms) may be a dangerous
+one in the view of many people. It is liable to abuse, no doubt.
+People are always glad to get hold of anything which limits their
+responsibility. But remember that our moral estimates come down to us
+from ancestors who hanged children for stealing forty shillings' worth,
+and sent their souls to perdition for the sin of being born,--who
+punished the unfortunate families of suicides, and in their eagerness
+for justice executed one innocent person every three years, on the
+average, as Sir James Mackintosh tells us.
+
+I do not know in what shape the practical question may present itself to
+you; but I will tell you my rule in life, and I think you will find it
+a good one. _Treat bad men exactly as if they were insane_. They are
+_in-sane_, out of health, morally. Reason, which is food to sound minds,
+is not tolerated, still less assimilated, unless administered with the
+greatest caution; perhaps, not at all. Avoid collision with them, as far
+as you honorably can; keep your temper, if you can,--for one angry man
+is as good as another; restrain them from injury, promptly, completely,
+and with the least possible injury, just as in the case of maniacs,--and
+when you have got rid of them, or got them tied hand and foot so that
+they can do no mischief, sit down and contemplate them charitably,
+remembering that nine-tenths of their perversity comes from outside
+influences, drunken ancestors, abuse in childhood, bad company, from
+which you have happily been preserved, and for some of which you, as a
+member of society, may be fractionally responsible. I think also that
+there are _special influences_ which _work in the blood like ferments_,
+and I have a suspicion that some of those curious old stories I cited
+may have more recent parallels. Have you ever met with any cases which
+admitted of a solution like that which I have mentioned?
+
+Yours very truly,
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_Bernard Langdon to Philip Staples._
+
+MY DEAR PHILIP,--
+
+I have been for some months established in this place, turning the
+main crank of the machinery for the manufactory of accomplishments
+superintended by, or rather worked to the profit of, a certain Mr. Silas
+Peckham. He is a poor wretch, with a little thin fishy blood in his
+body, lean and flat, long-armed and large-handed, thick-jointed
+and thin-muscled,--you know those unwholesome, weak-eyed, half-fed
+creatures, that look not fit to be round among live folks, and yet not
+quite dead enough to bury. If you ever hear of my being in court to
+answer to a charge of assault and battery, you may guess that I have
+been giving him a thrashing to settle off old scores; for he is a
+tyrant, and has come pretty near killing his principal lady-assistant
+with overworking her and keeping her out of all decent privileges.
+
+Helen Darley is this lady's name,--twenty-two or -three years old,
+I should think,--a very sweet, pale woman,--daughter of the usual
+country-clergyman,--thrown on her own resources from an early age, and
+the rest: a common story, but an uncommon person,--very. All conscience
+and sensibility, I should say,--a cruel worker,--no kind of regard for
+herself,--seems as fragile and supple as a young willow-shoot, but try
+her and you find she has the spring in her of a steel crossbow. I am
+glad I happened to come to this place, if it were only for her sake. I
+have saved that girl's life; I am as sure of it as if I had pulled her
+out of the fire or water.
+
+Of course I'm in love with her, you say,--we always love those whom
+we have benefited: "saved her life,--her love was the reward of his
+devotion," etc., etc., as in a regular set novel. In love, Philip? Well,
+about that,--I love Helen Darley--very much: there is hardly anybody I
+love so well. What a noble creature she is! One of those that just go
+right on, do their own work and everybody else's, killing themselves
+inch by inch without ever thinking about it,--singing and dancing
+at their toil when they begin, worn and saddened after a while, but
+pressing steadily on, tottering by-and-by, and catching at the rail by
+the wayside to help them lift one foot before the other, and at last
+falling, face down, arms stretched forward----
+
+Philip, my boy, do you know I am the sort of man that locks his door
+sometimes and cries his heart out of his eyes,--that can sob like a
+woman and not be ashamed of it? I come of fighting-blood on my mother's
+side, you know; I think I could be savage on occasion. But I am
+tender,--more and more tender as I come into my fulness of manhood. I
+don't like to strike a man, (laugh, if you like,--I know I hit hard
+when I do strike,)--but what I can't stand is the sight of these poor,
+patient, toiling women, that never find out in this life how good they
+are, and never know what it is to be told they are angels while they
+still wear the pleasing incumbrances of humanity. I don't know what to
+make of these cases. To think that a woman is never to be a woman again,
+whatever she may come to as an unsexed angel,--and that she should die
+unloved! Why does not somebody come and carry off this noble woman,
+waiting here all ready to make a man happy? Philip, do you know the
+pathos there is in the eyes of unsought women, oppressed with the burden
+of an inner life unshared? I can see into them now as I could not in
+those earlier days. I sometimes think their pupils dilate on purpose to
+let my consciousness glide through them; indeed, I dread them, I come so
+close to the nerve of the soul itself in these momentary intimacies. You
+used to tell me I was a Turk,--that my heart was full of pigeon-holes,
+with accommodations inside for a whole flock of doves. I don't know but
+I am still as Youngish as ever in my ways,--Brigham-Youngish, I mean;
+at any rate, I always want to give a little love to all the poor things
+that cannot have a whole man to themselves. If they would only be
+contented with a little!
+
+Here now are two girls in this school where I am teaching. One of them,
+Rosa M., is not more than sixteen years old, I think they say; but
+Nature has forced her into a tropical luxuriance of beauty, as if it
+were July with her, instead of May. I suppose it is all natural enough
+that this girl should like a young man's attention, even if he were a
+grave schoolmaster; but the eloquence of this young thing's look
+is unmistakable,--and yet she does not know the language it is
+talking,--they none of them do; and there is where a good many poor
+creatures of our good-for-nothing sex are mistaken. There is no danger
+of my being rash, but I think this girl will cost somebody his life yet.
+She is one of those women men make a quarrel about and fight to the
+death for,--the old feral instinct, you know.
+
+Pray, don't think I am lost in conceit, but there is another girl here
+that I begin to think looks with a certain kindness on me. Her name is
+Elsie V., and she is the only daughter and heiress of an old family in
+this place. She is a portentous and mysterious creature. If I should
+tell you all I know and half of what I fancy about her, you would
+tell me to get my life insured at once. Yet she is the most painfully
+interesting being,--so handsome! so lonely!--for she has no friends
+among the girls, and sits apart from them,--with black hair like the
+flow of a mountain-brook after a thaw, with a low-browed, scowling
+beauty of face, and such eyes as were never seen before, I really
+believe, in any human creature.
+
+Philip, I don't know what to say about this Elsie. There is a mystery
+around her I have not fathomed. I have conjectures about her which
+I could not utter to any living soul. I dare not even hint the
+possibilities which have suggested themselves to me. This I will
+say,--that I do take the most intense interest in this young person, an
+interest much more like pity than love in its common sense. If what I
+guess at is true, of all the tragedies of existence I ever knew this is
+the saddest, and yet so full of meaning! Do not ask me any questions,--I
+have said more than I meant to already; but I am involved in strange
+doubts and perplexities,--in dangers too, very possibly,--and it is a
+relief just to speak ever so guardedly of them to an early and faithful
+friend.
+
+Yours ever, BERNARD.
+
+P. S. I remember you had a copy of Fortunius Licetus "De Monstris" among
+your old books. Can't you lend it to me for a while? I am curious, and
+it will amuse me.
+
+
+
+
+ANNO DOMINI, 1860.
+
+
+ My youth is past!--this morn I stand,
+ With manhood's signet of command,
+ Firm-planted on life's middle-land!
+
+ Behind, the scene recedes afar,
+ Where cloudy mists and vapors mar
+ The lustre of my morning-star.
+
+ I mark the courses of my days,
+ Inwound through many a doubtful maze,--
+ To marvel at those devious ways!
+
+ They lead through hills and levels lone,
+ Green fields, and woodlands overgrown,
+ And where deep waters pulse and moan;--
+
+ By ruined tower, by darksome dell,
+ The home of night-birds fierce and fell,
+ Wherein strange shapes of Horror dwell;--
+
+ Out to the blessed sunshine free,
+ The breezy moors of liberty,
+ And skies outpouring harmony;--
+
+ By palace-wall, by haunted tomb,
+ Through bright and dark, through joy and gloom:
+ My life hath known both blight and bloom.
+
+ And now, as from some mountain-height,
+ Backward I strain my eager sight,
+ Till all the landscape melts in night;--
+
+ Then, whispering to my Heart, "Be bold!"
+ I turn from years whose "tale is told,"
+ To greet the Future's dawn of gold:
+
+ High hopes and nobler labors wait
+ Beyond that Future's opening gate,--
+ Brave deeds which hold the seeds of Fate.
+
+ Thy strength, O Lord, shall fire my blood,
+ Shall nerve my soul, make wise my mood,
+ And win me to the pure and good!
+
+ Or if, O Father, thou shouldst say,
+ "Dark Angel, close his mortal day!"
+ And smite me on my vanward way,--
+
+ Grant that in armor firm and strong,
+ Whilst pealing still Life's battle-song,
+ And struggling, manful, 'gainst the wrong,
+
+ Thy soldier, who would fight to win
+ No crown of dross, no bays of sin,
+ May fall amidst the foremost din
+
+ Of Truth's grand conflict, blest by Thee,--
+ And even though Death should conquer, see
+ How false, how brief his victory!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+DARWIN ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.
+
+[Continued.]
+
+
+"I can entertain no doubt, after the most deliberate study and
+dispassionate judgment of which I am capable, that the view which most
+naturalists entertain, and which I formerly entertained,--namely, that
+each species has been independently created,--is erroneous. I am fully
+convinced that species are not immutable; but that those belonging to
+what are called the same genera are lineal descendants of some other
+and generally extinct species, in the same manner as the acknowledged
+varieties of any one species are the descendants of that species.
+Furthermore, I am convinced that Natural Selection has been the main,
+but not exclusive means of modification."
+
+This is the kernel of the new theory, the Darwinian creed, as recited
+at the close of the introduction to the remarkable book under
+consideration. The questions, "What will he do with it?" and "How far
+will he carry it?" the author answers at the close of the volume: "I
+cannot doubt that the theory of descent with modification embraces all
+the members of the same class." Furthermore, "I believe that all animals
+have descended from at most only four or five progenitors, and plants
+from an equal or lesser number." Seeing that analogy as strongly
+suggests a further step in the same direction, while he protests that
+"analogy may be a deceitful guide," yet he follows its inexorable
+leading to the inference that "probably all the organic beings which
+have ever lived on this earth have descended from some one primordial
+form, into which life was first breathed."[a]
+
+In the first extract we have the thin end of the wedge driven a little
+way; in the last, the wedge is driven home.
+
+We have already (in the preceding number) sketched some of the reasons
+suggestive of such a theory of derivation of species,--reasons which
+give it plausibility, and even no small probability, as applied to our
+actual world and to changes occurring since the latest tertiary period.
+We are well pleased at this moment to find that the conclusions we were
+arriving at in this respect are sustained by the very high authority and
+impartial judgment of Pictet, the Swiss palaeontologist. In his review
+of Darwin's book,[b]--much the fairest and most admirable opposing one
+that has yet appeared,--he freely accepts that _ensemble_ of natural
+operations which Darwin impersonates under the now familiar name of
+Natural Selection, allows that the exposition throughout the first
+chapters seems "_à la fois prudent et fort_" and is disposed to accept
+the whole argument in its foundations, that is, so far as it relates
+to what is now going on, or has taken place in the present geological
+period,--which period he carries back through the diluvial epoch to the
+borders of the tertiary.[c] Pictet accordingly admits that the theory
+will very well account for the origination by divergence of nearly
+related species, whether within the present period or in remoter
+geological times: a very natural view for him to take; since he
+appears to have reached and published, several years ago, the pregnant
+conclusion, that there most probably was some material connection
+between the closely related species of two successive faunas, and that
+the numerous close species, whose limits are so difficult to determine,
+were not all created distinct and independent. But while accepting, or
+ready to accept, the basis of Darwin's theory, and all its legitimate
+direct inferences, he rejects the ultimate conclusions, brings some
+weighty arguments to bear against them, and is evidently convinced that
+he can draw a clear line between the sound inferences, which he favors,
+and the unsound or unwarranted theoretical deductions, which he rejects.
+We hope he can.
+
+[Footnote a: P. 484, Engl. ed. In the new American edition, (_Vide_
+Supplement, pp. 431, 432,) the principal analogies which suggest the
+extreme view are referred to, and the remark is appended,--"But this
+inference is chiefly grounded on analogy, and it is immaterial whether
+or not it be accepted. The case is different with the members of each
+great class, as the Vertebrata or Articulata; for here we have in the
+laws of homology, embryology, etc., some distinct evidence that all have
+descended from a single primordial parent."]
+
+[Footnote b: In _Bibliothèque Universelle de Genève_, Mars, 1860.]
+
+[Footnote c: This we learn from his very interesting article, _De
+la Question de l'Homme Fossile_, in the same (March) number of the
+_Bibliothèque Universelle_.]
+
+This raises the question, Why does Darwin press his theory to these
+extreme conclusions? Why do all hypotheses of derivation converge so
+inevitably to one ultimate point? Having already considered some of the
+reasons which suggest or support the theory at its outset,--which may
+carry it as far as such sound and experienced naturalists as Pictet
+allow that it may be true,--perhaps as far as Darwin himself unfolds
+it in the introductory proposition cited at the beginning of this
+article,--we may now inquire after the motives which impel the theorist
+so much farther. Here proofs, in the proper sense of the word, are not
+to be had. We are beyond the region of demonstration, and have duly
+probabilities to consider. What are these probabilities? What work
+will this hypothesis do to establish a claim to be adopted in its
+completeness? Why should a theory which may plausibly enough account for
+the _diversification_ of the species of each special type or genus,
+be expanded into a general system for the _origination_ or successive
+diversification of all species, and all special types or forms, from
+four or five remote primordial forms, or perhaps from one? We accept the
+theory of gravitation because it explains all the facts we know, and
+bears all the tests that we can put it to. We incline to accept the
+nebular hypothesis, for similar reasons; not because it is proved,--thus
+far it is wholly incapable of proof,--but because it is a natural
+theoretical deduction from accepted physical laws, is thoroughly
+congruous with the facts, and because its assumption serves to connect
+and harmonize these into one probable and consistent whole. Can the
+derivative hypothesis be maintained and carried out into a system on
+similar grounds? If so, however unproved, it would appear to be a
+tenable hypothesis, which is all that its author ought now to claim.
+Such hypotheses as from the conditions of the case can neither be proved
+nor disproved by direct evidence or experiment are to be tested only
+indirectly, and therefore imperfectly, by trying their power to
+harmonize the known facts, and to account for what is otherwise
+unaccountable. So the question comes to this:
+
+What will an hypothesis of the derivation of species explain which the
+opposing view leaves unexplained?
+
+Questions these which ought to be entertained before we take up the
+arguments which have been advanced against this theory. We can only
+glance at some of the considerations which Darwin adduces, or will be
+sure to adduce in the future and fuller exposition which is promised.
+To display them in such wise as to indoctrinate the unscientific reader
+would require a volume. Merely to refer to them in the most general
+terms would suffice for those familiar with scientific matters, but
+would scarcely enlighten those who are not. Wherefore let these trust
+the impartial Pictet, who freely admits, that, "in the absence of
+sufficient direct proofs to justify the possibility of his hypothesis,
+Mr. Darwin relies upon indirect proofs, the bearing of which is real and
+incontestable"; who concedes that "his theory accords very well with the
+great facts of comparative anatomy and zoölogy,--comes in admirably to
+explain unity of composition of organisms, also to explain rudimentary
+and representative organs, and the natural series of genera and
+species,--equally corresponds with many palaeontological data,--agrees
+well with the specific resemblances which exist between two successive
+faunas, with the parallelism which is sometimes observed between the
+series of palaeontological succession and of embryonal development,"
+etc.; and finally, although he does not accept the theory in these
+results, he allows that "it appears to offer the best means of
+explaining the manner in which organized beings were produced in epochs
+anterior to our own."
+
+What more than this could be said for such an hypothesis? Here,
+probably, is its charm, and its strong hold upon the speculative mind.
+Unproven though it be, and cumbered _primâ facie_ with cumulative
+improbabilities as it proceeds, yet it singularly accords with great
+classes of facts otherwise insulated and enigmatic, and explains many
+things which are thus far utterly inexplicable upon any other scientific
+assumption.
+
+We have said (p. 116) that Darwin's hypothesis is the natural complement
+to Lyell's uniformitarian theory in physical geology. It is for the
+organic world what that popular view is for the inorganic; and the
+accepters of the latter stand in a position from which to regard the
+former in the most favorable light. Wherefore the rumor that the
+cautious Lyell himself has adopted the Darwinian hypothesis need not
+surprise us. The two views are made for each other, and, like the two
+counterpart pictures for the stereoscope, when brought together, combine
+into one apparently solid whole.
+
+If we allow, with Pictet, that Darwin's theory will very well serve for
+all that concerns the present epoch of the world's history,--an epoch
+which this renowned palaeontologist regards as including the diluvial or
+quaternary period,--then Darwin's first and foremost need in his onward
+course is a practicable road from this into and through the tertiary
+period, the intervening region between the comparatively near and the
+far remote past. Here Lyell's doctrine paves the way, by showing that in
+the physical geology there is no general or absolute break between the
+two, probably no greater between the latest tertiary and the quaternary
+period than between the latter and the present time. So far, the
+Lyellian view is, we suppose, generally concurred in. Now as to the
+organic world, it is largely admitted that numerous tertiary species
+have continued down into the quaternary, and many of them to the present
+time. A goodly percentage of the earlier and nearly half of the later
+tertiary mollusca, according to Des Hayes, Lyell, and, if we mistake
+not, Bronn, still live. This identification, however, is now questioned
+by a naturalist of the very highest authority. But, in its bearings on
+the new theory, the point here turns not upon absolute identity so
+much as upon close resemblance. For those who, with Agassiz, doubt the
+specific identity in any of these cases, and those who say, with Pictet,
+that "the later tertiary deposits contain in general the _débris_ of
+species _very nearly related_ to those which still exist, belonging to
+the same genera, but specifically different," may also agree with Pictet
+that the nearly related species of successive faunas must or may have
+had "a material connection." Now the only material connection that
+we have an idea of in such a case is a genealogical one. And the
+supposition of a genealogical connection is surely not unnatural in such
+cases,--is demonstrably the natural one as respects all those tertiary
+species which experienced naturalists have pronounced to be identical
+with existing ones, but which others now deem distinct. For to identify
+the two is the same thing as to conclude the one to be the ancestors of
+the other. No doubt there are differences between the tertiary and
+the present individuals, differences equally noted by both classes of
+naturalists, but differently estimated. By the one these are deemed
+quite compatible, by the other incompatible, with community of origin.
+But who can tell us what amount of difference is compatible with
+community of origin? This is the very question at issue, and one to be
+settled by observation alone. Who would have thought that the peach and
+the nectarine came from one stock? But, this being proved, is it now
+very improbable that both were derived from the almond, or from some
+common amygdaline progenitor? Who would have thought that the cabbage,
+cauliflower, broccoli, kale, and kohlrabi are derivatives of one
+species, and rape or colza, turnip, and probably rutabaga, of another
+species? And who that is convinced of this can long undoubtingly hold
+the original distinctness of turnips from cabbages as an article of
+faith? On scientific grounds may not a primordial cabbage or rape be
+assumed as the ancestor of all the cabbage races, on much the same
+ground that we assume a common ancestry for the diversified human races?
+If all our breeds of cattle came from one stock, why not this stock from
+the auroch, which has had all the time between the diluvial and the
+historic periods in which to set off a variation perhaps no greater than
+the difference between some sorts of cattle?
+
+That considerable differences are often discernible between tertiary
+individuals and their supposed descendants of the present day affords
+no argument against Darwin's theory, as has been rashly thought, but is
+decidedly in its favor. If the identification were so perfect that no
+more differences were observable between the tertiary and the recent
+shells than between various individuals of either, then Darwin's
+opponents, who argue the immutability of species from the ibises and
+cats preserved by the ancient Egyptians being just like those of the
+present day, could triumphantly add a few hundred thousand years more to
+the length of the experiment and to the force of their argument. As the
+facts stand, it appears, that, while some tertiary forms are essentially
+undistinguishable from existing ones, others are the same with a
+difference, which is judged not to be specific or aboriginal, and yet
+others show somewhat greater differences, such as are scientifically
+expressed by calling them marked varieties, or else doubtful species;
+while others, differing a little more, are confidently termed distinct,
+but nearly related species. Now is not all this a question of degree,
+of mere gradation of difference? Is it at all likely that these several
+gradations came to be established in two totally different ways,--some
+of them (though naturalists can't agree which) through natural
+variation, or other secondary cause, and some by original creation,
+without secondary cause? We have seen that the judicious Pictet answers
+such questions as Darwin would have him do, in affirming, that, in all
+probability, the nearly related species of two successive faunas were
+materially connected, and that contemporaneous species, similarly
+resembling each other, were not all created so, but have become so. This
+is equivalent to saying that species (using the term as all naturalists
+do and must continue to employ the word) have only a relative, not an
+absolute fixity; that differences fully equivalent to what are held to
+be specific may arise in the course of time, so that one species may at
+length be naturally replaced by another species a good deal like it, or
+may be diversified through variation or otherwise into two, three, or
+more species, or forms as different as species. This concedes all that
+Darwin has a right to ask, all that he can directly infer from evidence.
+We must add that it affords a _locus standi_, more or less tenable, for
+inferring more.
+
+Here another geological consideration comes in to help on this
+inference. The species of the later tertiary period for the most part
+not only resembled those of our days, many of them so closely as to
+suggest an absolute continuity, but, also occupied in general the same
+regions that their relatives occupy now. The same may be said, though
+less specially, of the earlier tertiary and of the later secondary; but
+there is less and less localization of forms as we recede, yet some
+localization even in palæozoic times. While in the secondary period one
+is struck with the similarity of forms and the identity of many of the
+species which flourished apparently at the same time in all or in the
+most widely separated parts of the world, in the tertiary epoch, on the
+contrary, along with the increasing specialization of climates and
+their approximation to the present state, we find abundant evidence
+of increasing localization of orders, genera, and species; and
+this localization strikingly accords with the present geographical
+distribution of the same groups of species. Where the imputed
+forefathers lived, their relatives and supposed descendants now
+flourish. All the actual classes of the animal and vegetable kingdoms
+were represented in the tertiary faunas and floras, and in nearly the
+same proportions and the same diversities as at present. The faunas of
+what is now Europe, Asia, America, and Australia differed from
+each other much as they now differ: in fact,--according to Adolphe
+Brongniart, whose statements we here condense,[a]--the inhabitants of
+these different regions appear for the most part to have acquired,
+before the close of the tertiary period, the characters which
+essentially distinguish their existing faunas. The eastern continent
+had then, as now, its great pachyderms, elephants, rhinoceros, and
+hippopotamus; South America its armadillos, sloths, and ant-eaters;
+Australia a crowd of marsupials; and the very strange birds of New
+Zealand had predecessors of similar strangeness. Everywhere the same
+geographical distribution as now, with a difference in the particular
+area, as respects the northern portion of the continents, answering to a
+warmer climate then than ours, such as allowed species of hippopotamus,
+rhinoceros, and elephant to range even to the regions now inhabited
+by the reindeer and the musk-ox, and with the serious disturbing
+intervention of the glacial period within a comparatively recent time.
+Let it be noted, also, that those tertiary species which have continued
+with little change down to our days are the marine animals of the
+lower grades, especially mollusca. Their low organization, moderate
+sensibility, and the simple conditions of an existence in a medium
+like the ocean, not subject to great variation and incapable of sudden
+change, may well account for their continuance; while, on the other
+hand, the more intense, however gradual, climatic vicissitudes on land,
+which have driven all tropical and sub-tropical forms out of the higher
+latitudes and assigned to them their actual limits, would be almost sure
+to extinguish such huge and unwieldy animals as mastodons, mammoths, and
+the like, whose power of enduring altered circumstances must have been
+small.
+
+[Footnote a: In _Comptes Rendus, Acad. des Sciences_, Févr. 2, 1857.]
+
+This general replacement of the tertiary species of a country by
+others so much like them is a noteworthy fact. The hypothesis of the
+independent creation of all species, irrespective of their antecedents,
+leaves this fact just as mysterious as is creation itself; that of
+derivation undertakes to account for it. Whether it satisfactorily does
+so or not, it must be allowed that the facts well accord with that
+assumption.
+
+The same may be said of another conclusion, namely, that the geological
+succession of animals and plants appears to correspond in a general
+way with their relative standing or rank in a natural system of
+classification. It seems clear, that, though no one of the _grand types_
+of the animal kingdom can be traced back farther than the rest, yet the
+lower _classes_ long preceded the higher; that there has been on the
+whole a steady progression within each class and order; and that the
+highest plants and animals have appeared only in relatively modern
+times. It is only, however, in a broad sense that this generalization
+is now thought to hold good. It encounters many apparent exceptions and
+sundry real ones. So far as the rule holds, all is as it should be upon
+an hypothesis of derivation.
+
+The rule has its exceptions. But, curiously enough, the most striking
+class of exceptions, if such they be, seems to us even more favorable to
+the doctrine of derivation than is the general rule of a pure and simple
+ascending gradation. We refer to what Agassiz calls prophetic and
+synthetic types; for which the former name may suffice, as the
+difference between the two is evanescent.
+
+"It has been noticed," writes our great zoölogist, "that certain types,
+which are frequently prominent among the representatives of past ages,
+combine in their structure peculiarities which at later periods are only
+observed separately in different, distinct types. Sauroid fishes before
+reptiles, Pterodactyles before birds, Ichthyosauri before dolphins, etc.
+There are entire families, of nearly every class of animals, which
+in the state of their perfect development exemplify such prophetic
+relations.... The sauroid fishes of the past geological ages are an
+example of this kind. These fishes, which preceded the appearance of
+reptiles, present a combination of ichthyic and reptilian characters not
+to be found in the true members of this class, which form its bulk at
+present. The Pterodactyles, which preceded the class of birds, and the
+Ichthyosauri, which preceded the Cetaeca, are other examples of such
+prophetic types."[a]
+
+[Footnote a: Agassiz, _Contributions: Essay on Classification_, p.
+117, where, we may be permitted to note, the word "Crustacea" is by a
+typographical error printed in place of _Cetacea_.]
+
+Now these reptile-like fishes, of which gar-pikes are the living
+representatives, though of earlier appearance, are admittedly of higher
+rank than common fishes. They dominated until reptiles appeared, when
+they mostly gave place to--or, as the derivationists will insist, were
+resolved by divergent variation and natural selection into--common
+fishes, destitute of reptilian characters, and saurian reptiles, the
+intermediate grades, which, according to a familiar piscine saying,
+are "neither fish, flesh, nor good red-herring," being eliminated and
+extinguished by natural consequence of the struggle for existence which
+Darwin so aptly portrays. And so, perhaps, of the other prophetic types.
+Here type and antitype correspond. If these are true prophecies, we need
+not wonder that some who read them in Agassiz's book will read their
+fulfilment in Darwin's.
+
+Note also, in tins connection, that, along with a wonderful persistence
+of type, with change of species, genera, orders, etc., from formation to
+formation, no species and no higher group which has once unequivocally
+died out ever afterwards reappears. Why is this, but that the link of
+generation has been sundered? Why, on the hypothesis of independent
+originations, were not failing species re-created, either identically or
+with a difference, in regions eminently adapted to their well-being? To
+take a striking case. That no part of the world now offers more suitable
+conditions for wild horses and cattle than the Pampas and other plains
+of South America is shown by the facility with which they have there run
+wild and enormously multiplied, since introduced from the Old World not
+long ago. There was no wild American stock. Yet in the times of the
+Mastodon and Megatherium, at the dawn of the present period, wild
+horses and cattle--the former certainly very much like the existing
+horse--roamed over those plains in abundance. On the principle of
+original and direct created adaptation of species to climate and other
+conditions, why were these types not reproduced, when, after the colder
+intervening era, those regions became again eminently adapted to such
+animals? Why, but because, by their complete extinction in South
+America, the line of descent was here utterly broken? Upon the ordinary
+hypothesis, there is no scientific explanation possible of this series
+of facts, and of many others like them. Upon the new hypothesis, "the
+succession of the same types of structure within the same areas during
+the later geological periods ceases to be mysterious, and is simply
+explained by inheritance." Their cessation is failure of issue.
+
+Along with these considerations the fact (alluded to on p. 114) should
+be remembered, that, as a general thing, related species of the present
+age are geographically associated. The larger part of the plants, and
+still more of the animals, of each separate country are peculiar to
+it; and, as most species now flourish over the graves of their by-gone
+relatives of former ages, so they now dwell among or accessibly near
+their kindred species.
+
+Here also comes in that general "parallelism between the order of
+succession of animals and plants in geological times, and the gradation
+among their living representatives" from low to highly organized,
+from simple and general to complex and specialized forms; also "the
+parallelism between the order of succession of animals in geological
+times--and the changes their living representatives undergo during their
+embryological growth,"--as if the world were one prolonged gestation.
+Modern science has much insisted on this parallelism, and to a certain
+extent is allowed to have made it out. All these things, which conspire
+to prove that the ancient and the recent forms of life "are somehow
+intimately connected together in one grand system," equally conspire to
+suggest that the connection is one similar or analogous to generation.
+Surely no naturalist can be blamed for entering somewhat confidently
+upon a field of speculative inquiry which here opens so invitingly; nor
+need former premature endeavors and failures utterly dishearten him.
+
+All these things, it may naturally be said, go to explain the order, not
+the mode, of the incoming of species. But they all do tend to bring out
+the generalization expressed by Mr. Wallace in the formula, that "every
+species has come into existence coincident both in time and space with
+preëxisting closely allied species." Not, however, that this is proved
+even of existing species as a matter of general fact. It is obviously
+impossible to _prove_ anything of the kind. But we must concede that the
+known facts strongly suggest such an inference. And since species are
+only congeries of individuals, and every individual came into existence
+in consequence of preëxisting individuals of the same sort, so leading
+up to the individuals with which the species began, and since the only
+material sequence we know of among plants and animals is that from
+parent to progeny, the presumption becomes exceedingly strong that
+the connection of the incoming with the preëxisting species is a
+genealogical one.
+
+Here, however, all depends upon the probability that Mr. Wallace's
+inference is really true. Certainly it is not yet generally accepted;
+but a strong current is setting towards its acceptance.
+
+So long as universal cataclysms were in vogue, and all life upon the
+earth was thought to have been suddenly destroyed and renewed many times
+in succession, such a view could not be thought of. So the equivalent
+view maintained by Agassiz, and formerly, we believe, by D'Orbigny,
+that, irrespectively of general and sudden catastrophes, or any known
+adequate physical cause, there has been a total depopulation at the
+close of each geological period or formation, say forty or fifty times,
+or more, followed by as many independent great acts of creation, at
+which alone have species been originated, and at each of which a
+vegetable and an animal kingdom were produced entire and complete,
+full-fledged, as flourishing, as wide-spread and populous, as varied and
+mutually adapted from the beginning as ever afterwards,--such a view, of
+course, supersedes all material connection between successive species,
+and removes even the association and geographical range of species
+entirely out of the domain of physical causes and of natural science.
+This is the extreme opposite of Wallace's and Darwin's view, and is
+quite as hypothetical. The nearly universal opinion, if we rightly
+gather it, manifestly is, that the replacement of the species of
+successive formations was not complete and simultaneous, but partial
+and successive; and that along the course of each epoch some species
+probably were introduced, and some, doubtless, became extinct. If all
+since the tertiary belongs to our present epoch, this is certainly true
+of it: if to two or more epochs, then the hypothesis of a total change
+is not true of them.
+
+Geology makes huge demands upon time; and we regret to find that it has
+exhausted ours,--that what we meant for the briefest and most general
+sketch of some geological considerations in favor of Darwin's hypothesis
+has so extended as to leave no room for considering "the great facts of
+comparative anatomy and zoölogy" with which Darwin's theory "very well
+accords," nor for indicating how "it admirably serves for explaining the
+unity of composition of all organisms, the existence of representative
+and rudimentary organs, and the natural series which genera and species
+compose." Suffice it to say that these are the real strongholds of the
+new system on its theoretical side; that it goes far towards explaining
+both the physiological and the structural gradations and relations
+between the two kingdoms, and the arrangement of all their forms in
+groups subordinate to groups, all within a few great types; that it
+reads the riddle of abortive organs and of morphological conformity, of
+which no other theory has ever offered a scientific explanation, and
+supplies a ground for harmonizing the two fundamental ideas which
+naturalists and philosophers conceive to have ruled the organic world,
+though they could not reconcile them, namely: Adaptation to Purpose and
+the Conditions of Existence, and Unity of Type. To reconcile these two
+undeniable principles is a capital problem in the philosophy of natural
+history; and the hypothesis which consistently does so thereby secures a
+great advantage.
+
+We all know that the arm and hand of a monkey, the foreleg and foot of
+a dog and of a horse, the wing of a bat, and the fin of a porpoise are
+fundamentally identical; that the long neck of the giraffe has the same
+and no more bones than the short one of the elephant; that the eggs of
+Surinam frogs hatch into tadpoles with as good tails for swimming as any
+of their kindred, although as tadpoles they never enter the water; that
+the Guinea-pig is furnished with incisor teeth which it never uses,
+as it sheds them before birth; that embryos of mammals and birds
+have branchial slits and arteries running in loops, in imitation or
+reminiscence of the arrangement which is permanent in fishes; and that
+thousands of animals and plants have rudimentary organs which, at least
+in numerous cases, are wholly useless to their possessors, etc., etc.
+Upon a derivative theory this morphological conformity is explained by
+community of descent; and it has not been explained in any other way.
+
+Naturalists are constantly speaking of "related species," of
+the "affinity" of a genus or other group, and of "family
+resemblance,"--vaguely conscious that these terms of kinship are
+something more than mere metaphors, but unaware of the grounds of their
+aptness. Mr. Darwin assures them that they have been talking derivative
+doctrine all their lives without knowing it.
+
+If it is difficult and in some cases practically impossible to fix the
+limits of species, it is still more so to fix those of genera; and those
+of tribes and families are still less susceptible of exact natural
+circumscription. Intermediate forms occur, connecting one group with
+another in a manner sadly perplexing to systematists, except to those
+who have ceased to expect absolute limitations in Nature. All this
+blending could hardly fail to suggest a former material connection among
+allied forms, such as that which an hypothesis of derivation demands.
+
+Here it would not be amiss to consider the general principle of
+gradation throughout organic Nature,--a principle which answers in a
+general way to the law of continuity in the inorganic world, or
+rather is so analogous to it that both may fairly be expressed by
+the Leibnitzian axiom, _Natura non agit saltatim_. As an axiom or
+philosophical principle, used to test modal laws or hypotheses, this in
+strictness belongs only to physics. In the investigation of Nature at
+large, at least in the organic world, nobody would undertake to apply
+this principle as a test of the validity of any theory or supposed law.
+But naturalists of enlarged views will not fail to infer the principle
+from the phenomena they investigate,--to perceive that the rule holds,
+under due qualifications and altered forms, throughout the realm of
+Nature; although we do not suppose that Nature in the organic world
+makes no distinct steps, but only short and serial steps,--not
+infinitely fine gradations, but no long leaps, or few of them.
+
+To glance at a few illustrations out of many that present themselves. It
+would be thought that the distinction between the two organic kingdoms
+was broad and absolute. Plants and animals belong to two very different
+categories, fulfil opposite offices, and, as to the mass of them, are
+so unlike that the difficulty of the ordinary observer would be to find
+points of comparison. Without entering into details, which would fill an
+article, we may safely say that the difficulty with the naturalist is
+all the other way,--that all these broad differences vanish one by one
+as we approach the lower confines of the two kingdoms, and that no
+_absolute_ distinction whatever is now known between them. It is quite
+possible that the same organism may be both vegetable and animal, or may
+be first the one and then the other. If some organisms may be said to be
+at first vegetables and then animals, others, like the spores and other
+reproductive bodies of many of the lower Algae, may equally claim to
+have first a characteristically animal, and then an unequivocally
+vegetable existence. Nor is the gradation purely restricted to these
+simple organisms. It appears in general functions, as in that of
+reproduction, which is reducible to the same formula in both kingdoms,
+while it exhibits close approximations in the lower forms; also in a
+common or similar ground of sensibility in the lowest forms of both,
+a common faculty of effecting movements tending to a determinate end,
+traces of which pervade the vegetable kingdom,--while on the other hand,
+this indefinable principle, this vegetable _animula vagula, blandula_,
+graduates into the higher sensitiveness of the lower class of animals.
+Nor need we hesitate to recognize the fine gradations from simple
+sensitiveness and volition to the higher instinctive and other psychical
+manifestations of the higher brute animals. The gradation is undoubted,
+however we may explain it. Again, propagation is of one mode in the
+higher animals, of two in all plants; but vegetative propagation, by
+budding or offshoots, extends through the lower grades of animals. In
+both kingdoms there may be separation of the offshoots, or indifference
+in this respect, or continued and organic union with the parent stock;
+and this either with essential independence of the offshoots, or with
+a subordination of these to a common whole, or finally with such
+subordination and amalgamation, along with specialization of function,
+that the same parts, which in other cases can be regarded only as
+progeny, in these become only members of an individual.
+
+This leads to the question of individuality, a subject quite too large
+and too recondite for present discussion. The conclusion of the whole
+matter, however, is, that individuality--that very ground of _being_ as
+distinguished from _thing_--is not attained in Nature at one leap. If
+anywhere truly exemplified in plants, it is only in the lowest and
+simplest, where the being is a structural unit, a single cell,
+memberless and organless, though organic,--the same thing as those cells
+of which all the more complex plants are built up, and with which every
+plant and (structurally) every animal began its development. In the
+ascending gradation of the vegetable kingdom individuality is, so to
+say, striven after, but never attained; in the lower animals it is
+striven after with greater, though incomplete success; it is realized
+only in animals of so high a rank that vegetative multiplication or
+offshoots are out of the question, where all parts are strictly
+members and nothing else, and all subordinated to a common nervous
+centre,--fully realized, perhaps, only in a conscious person.
+
+So, also, the broad distinction between reproduction by seeds or ova and
+propagation by buds, though perfect in some of the lowest forms of life,
+becomes evanescent in others; and even the most absolute law we know in
+the physiology of genuine reproduction, that of sexual co-operation,
+has its exceptions in both kingdoms in parthenogenesis, to which in the
+vegetable kingdom a most curious series of gradations leads. In plants,
+likewise, a long and most finely graduated series of transitions leads
+from bisexual to unisexual blossoms; and so in various other respects.
+Everywhere we may perceive that Nature secures her ends, and makes her
+distinctions on the whole manifest and real, but everywhere without
+abrupt breaks. We need not wonder, therefore, that gradations between
+species and varieties should occur; the more so, since genera, tribes,
+and other groups into which the naturalist collocates species are
+far from being always absolutely limited in Nature, though they are
+necessarily represented to be so in systems. From the necessity of the
+case, the classifications of the naturalist abruptly define where Nature
+more or less blends. Our systems are nothing, if not definite. They
+are intended to express differences, and perhaps some of the coarser
+gradations. But this evinces, not their perfection, but their
+imperfection. Even the best of them are to the system of Nature what
+consecutive patches of the seven colors are to the rainbow.
+
+Now the principle of gradation throughout organic Nature may, of
+course, be interpreted upon other assumptions than those of Darwin's
+hypothesis,--certainly upon quite other than those of materialistic
+philosophy, with which we ourselves have no sympathy. Still we conceive
+it not only possible, but probable, that this gradation, as it has its
+natural ground, may yet have its scientific explanation. In any case,
+there is no need to deny that the general facts correspond well with an
+hypothesis like Darwin's, which is built upon fine gradations.
+
+We have contemplated quite long enough the general presumptions in
+favor of an hypothesis of the derivation of species. We cannot forget,
+however, while for the moment we overlook, the formidable difficulties
+which all hypotheses of this class have to encounter, and the serious
+implications which they seem to involve. We feel, moreover, that
+Darwin's particular hypothesis is exposed to some special objections. It
+requires no small strength of nerve steadily to conceive not only of
+the variation, but of the formation of the organs of an animal through
+cumulative variation and natural selection. Think of such an organ as
+the eye, that most perfect of optical instruments, as so produced in the
+lower animals and perfected in the higher! A friend of ours, who accepts
+the new doctrine, confesses that for a long while a cold chill came over
+him whenever he thought of the eye. He has at length got over that stage
+of the complaint, and is now in the fever of belief, perchance to be
+succeeded by the sweating stage, during which sundry peccant humors may
+be eliminated from the system.
+
+For ourselves, we dread the chill, and have some misgiving about the
+consequences of the reaction. We find ourselves in the "singular
+position" acknowledged by Pictet,--that is, confronted with a theory
+which, although it can really explain much, seems inadequate to the
+heavy task it so boldly assumes, but which, nevertheless, appears better
+fitted than any other that has been broached to explain, if it be
+possible to explain, somewhat of the manner in which organized beings
+may have arisen and succeeded each other. In this dilemma we might take
+advantage of Mr. Darwin's candid admission, that he by no means expects
+to convince old and experienced people, whose minds are stocked with a
+multitude of facts all viewed during a long course of years from the old
+point of view. This is nearly our case. So, owning no call to a larger
+faith than is expected of us, but not prepared to pronounce the whole
+hypothesis untenable, under such construction as we should put upon it,
+we naturally sought to attain a settled conviction through a perusal
+of several proffered refutations of the theory. At least, this course
+seemed to offer the readiest way of bringing to a head the various
+objections to which the theory is exposed. On several accounts some
+of these opposed reviews specially invite examination. We propose,
+accordingly, to conclude our task with an article upon "Darwin and his
+Reviewers."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+_Modern Painters_. By J. RUSKIN. Vol. V. Smith, Elder, & Co. London.
+
+The completion of a work of the importance of the "Modern Painters,"
+which has occupied in its production the thought and a large portion of
+the labor of fourteen years, is an event of more interest than it often
+falls to the lot of a book to excite; but when, as in this case, the
+result shows the development of an individual taste and critical ability
+entirely without peer in the history of art-letters, the value of the
+whole work is immensely enhanced by the time which its publication
+covers.
+
+The first volume of "Modern Painters" was, as everybody will remember,
+one of the sensation-books of the time, and fell upon the public opinion
+of the day like a thunderbolt from the clear sky. Denying, and in many
+instances overthrowing, the received canons of criticism, and defying
+all the accepted authorities in it, the author excited the liveliest
+astonishment and the bitterest hostility of the professional critics in
+general, and at once divided the world of art, so far as his influence
+reached, into two parts: the one embracing most of the reverent and
+conservative minds, and by far the larger; the other, most of the
+enthusiastic, the radical, and earnest; but this, small in numbers
+at first, was increased, and still increases, by the force of those
+qualities of enthusiasm and earnestness, until now, in England, it
+embraces nearly all of the true and living art of our time. But that
+volume, professedly treating art with reference to its superficial
+attributes and for a special purpose, the redemption of a great and
+revered artist from unjust disparagement and undeserved neglect,
+touched in scarcely the least degree the vital questions of taste or
+art-production. It had no considerations of sentiment or discussion of
+principles to offer: it dealt with facts, and touched the simple truths
+of Nature with an enthusiastic fire and lucidness which were proof
+positive of the knowledge and feeling of the author; and the public,
+either conversant with those facts or capable of being satisfied of
+them without much thought, abandoned itself to the fascination of his
+eloquence and acquiesced in his teachings, or arrayed itself in utter
+hostility to him and his new ideas.
+
+The second volume was more abstruse and deeper in feeling, and
+comparatively few of Mr. Ruskin's followers through the first cared
+to get entangled in the metaphysical mazes of the second, and it is
+generally neglected, although containing some of the deepest and most
+satisfactory studies on the fundamental principles of art and taste
+which have ever been printed.
+
+The third and fourth volumes, coming up again nearer the surface, made
+an application of the principles investigated to the material for art
+which Nature furnishes; and here again the author found in part his
+audience diminished among those who had at first been carried away by
+his enthusiasm or silenced and convinced by his unhesitating dogmatism.
+A partial reaction took place, owing not only to the change in the tone
+of the "Modern Painters," but to the springing up of a new school of
+painting, the consequence, mainly and legitimately, of the teachings of
+the work,--the pre-Raphaelite,--which, at once attacked virulently and
+immeasurably by the old school of critics, and defended as earnestly by
+Mr. Ruskin, became the subject of the war which was still waged between
+him and them. Turner in the meanwhile had passed away and was admitted
+to apotheosis, the malignant critics of yesterday becoming the ignorant
+adulators of to-day: _his_ position was conceded, but the hostility to
+Ruskin was sustained with unabated bitterness on the new field. He
+was demolished anew, and proved, many useless times over and over, an
+ignorant pretender; the public in the meanwhile, even his opponents,
+taking up in turn his _protégés_, as he pointed them out to their
+notice. The effect of his criticisms in enhancing the value of the works
+they approved would be incredible, if one did not know how glad an
+English public is to be led. As a single instance,--a drawing which was
+sold from one of the water-color exhibitions at fifty guineas, sold
+again, after Ruskin's notice, at two hundred and fifty; and in the lists
+of pictures sold or to be sold at auction, one sees constantly, "Noticed
+by Mr. Ruskin," "Approved by Mr. Ruskin," appended to the title.
+
+The third volume, being devoted to the correction of the ideas of Style
+and the Ideal, to Finish, and a review of the Past Landscape-Painting,
+recurs to Turner in its closing chapter, "On his Teachers"; the fourth
+was given to Mountain _Beauty_, following the parallel of the first,
+which treated of the _Truth_ of Mountains, and bearing as its burden of
+moral the expression of that Ideal by Turner; and the fifth now comes to
+conclude the investigations on the Ideal by chapters: first, on "Leaf
+Beauty," an exceedingly interesting investigation of the development
+of the forms of trees and plants as concerned with the laws of beauty;
+second, "Cloud Beauty"; and then of the "Ideas of Relation," in which
+the author comes finally to the demonstration of the right of Turner to
+his position amongst the thinking and poetic painters.
+
+From the first division, "Leaf Beauty," we must make one extract.
+The author has been speaking of the, influence of the Pine on Swiss
+character.
+
+"But the point which I desire the reader to note is, that the character
+of the scene which, if any, appears to have been impressive to the
+inhabitant is not that which we ourselves feel when we enter the
+district. It was not from their lakes, nor their cliffs, nor their
+glaciers, though these were all peculiarly their possession, that the
+three venerable cantons or states received their name. They were not
+called the States of the Rock, nor the States of the Lake, but the
+States of the _Forest_. And the one of the three which contains the most
+touching record of the spiritual power of Swiss religion, in the name of
+the convent of the 'Hill of Angels,' has for its own none but the sweet,
+childish name of 'Under the Woods.'
+
+"And, indeed, you may pass under them, if, leaving the most sacred spot
+in Swiss history, the Meadow of the Three Fountains, you bid the boatman
+row southward a little way by the Bay of Uri. Steepest there, on its
+western side, the walls of its rocks ascend to heaven. Far in the blue
+of evening, like a great cathedral-pavement, lies the lake in its
+darkness; and you may hear the whisper of innumerable falling waters
+return from the hollows of the cliff like the voices of a multitude
+praying under their breath. From time to time, the beat of a wave, slow
+lifted, where the rocks lean over the black depth, dies heavily as the
+last note of a requiem. Opposite, green with steep grass and set with
+châlet villages, the Tron Alp rises in one solemn glow of pastoral light
+and peace; and above, against the clouds of twilight, ghostly on the
+gray precipice, stand, myriad by myriad, the shadowy armies of the
+Unterwalden pine.
+
+"I have seen that it is possible for the stranger to pass through this
+great chapel, with its font of waters, and mountain pillars, and vaults
+of cloud, without being touched by one noble thought or stirred by any
+sacred passion; but for those who received from its waves the baptism
+of their youth, and learned beneath its rocks the fidelity of their
+manhood, and watched amidst its clouds the likeness of the dream of
+life, with the eyes of age,--for these I will not believe that the
+mountain-shrine was built or the calm of its forest-shadows guarded by
+their God in vain."
+
+But perhaps that conclusion of Ruskin's, in the new volume, which will
+most interest his earnest readers, is that the Venetian school is _the
+only religious school that has ever existed_. So much has Ruskin's
+development seemed to contradict itself, that one is scarcely surprised
+at one conclusion being apparently opposed to the former one; but a
+change so great as this, from Giotto, Perugino, and Cima, to Tintoret,
+Titian, and Veronese, as the religious ideals, will, indeed, amaze all
+who read it. Yet this is but the logical consequence of his progression
+hitherto. If he commenced with a belief that asceticism was religion, he
+would recognize Perugino and Giotto as the true religious artists; but
+if, as seems to be the case, he has learned at last that religion is a
+thing of daily life, mingling in all that we do, caring for body as well
+as soul, sense as well as spirit, and that a complete man must be a
+man who _lives_ in every sense of the word, then the Venetians, as the
+painters of the truth of life in _all_ its joy and sorrow, are the true
+painters, and the only ones whose art was inhabited by a religion worth
+following.
+
+It is interesting to follow what are called Ruskin's contradictions and
+see how perfectly they represent the whole system of artistic truth, as
+seen from the different points of a young artist's or student's growth
+up to mature and ripened judgment; so that there is no stage of artistic
+development which has not some form of truth particularly adapted to it,
+in the "Modern Painters." If it be urged that the book should have been
+written only from the point of final development, it can only be said
+that no true book will ever he so written, for no man can ever be
+certain of his having attained final truth. "Modern Painters" has
+value in this very showing of the critical development, which to an
+intelligent student is greater than that a complete and infallible guide
+could have.
+
+The chapter on Invention is full of the most delightful artistic truth,
+and shows completely, by copious illustrations, how well Turner deserved
+the rank Ruskin gives him amongst great composers. The analyses of the
+compositions of Turner are most curious and interesting, but, of course,
+depend on the accompanying plates. Some most valuable mental philosophy
+bearing on the production of art-works concludes Part VIII., which
+is devoted to "Invention Formal," of which we quote the concluding
+paragraphs:--
+
+"Until the feelings can give strength enough to the will to enable it
+to conquer them, they are not strong enough. If you cannot leave your
+picture at any moment, cannot turn from it and go on with another while
+the color is drying, cannot work at any part of it you choose with equal
+contentment, you have not firm enough grasp of it.
+
+"It follows, also, that no vain or selfish person can possibly paint,
+in the noble sense of the word. Vanity and selfishness are troublous,
+eager, anxious, petulant: painting can only be done in calm of mind.
+Resolution is not enough to secure this; it must be secured by
+disposition as well. You may resolve to think of your picture only; but,
+if you have been fretted before beginning, no manly or clear grasp of
+it will be possible for you. No forced calm is calm enough: only honest
+calm, natural calm. You might as well try by external pressure to smooth
+a lake till it could reflect the sky, as by violence of effort to secure
+the peace through which only you can reach imagination. That peace must
+come in its own time, as the waters settle themselves into clearness as
+well as quietness: you can no more filter your mind into purity than you
+can compress it into calmness; you must keep it pure, if you would have
+it pure; and throw no stones into it, if you would have it quiet. Great
+courage and self-command may to a certain extent give power of painting
+without the true calmness underneath, but never of doing first-rate
+work. There is sufficient evidence of this in even what we know of great
+men, though of the greatest we nearly always know the least (and that
+necessarily; they being very silent, and not much given to setting
+themselves forth to questioners,--apt to be contemptuously reserved no
+less than unselfishly). But in such writings and sayings as we possess
+of theirs we may trace a quite curious gentleness and serene courtesy.
+Rubens's letters are almost ludicrous in their unhurried politeness.
+Reynolds, swiftest of painters, was gentlest of companions; so also
+Velasquez, Titian, and Veronese.
+
+"It is gratuitous to add that no shallow or petty person can paint. Mere
+cleverness or special gift never made an artist. It is only perfectness
+of mind, unity, depth, decision, the highest qualities, in fine, of the
+intellect, which will form the imagination.
+
+"And, lastly, no false person can paint. A person false at heart may,
+when it suits his purposes, seize a stray truth here or there; but the
+relations of truth, its perfectness, that which makes it wholesome
+truth, he can never perceive. As wholeness and wholesomeness go
+together, so also sight with sincerity; it is only the constant desire
+of and submissiveness to truth, which can measure its strange angles
+and mark its infinite aspects, and fit them and knit them into sacred
+invention.
+
+"Sacred I call it deliberately; for it is thus in the most accurate
+senses, humble as well as helpful,--meek in its receiving as magnificent
+in its disposing; the name it bears being rightly given even to
+invention formal, not because it forms, but because it finds. For you
+cannot find a lie; you must make it for yourself. False things may be
+imagined, and false things composed; but only truth can be invented."
+
+One of those cardinal doctrines by which we may learn the bearings of a
+writer's system of truth is that of Ruskin's of the intimate connection
+between landscape art and humanity.
+
+"Fragrant tissue of flowers, golden circlet of clouds, are only fair
+when they meet the fondness of human thoughts and glorify human visions
+of heaven.
+
+"It is the leaning on this truth which more than any other has been the
+distinctive character of all my own past work. And in closing a series
+of art-studies, prolonged during so many years, it may be perhaps
+permitted me to point out this specialty,--the rather that it has been,
+of all their characters, the one most denied. I constantly see that the
+same thing takes place in the estimation formed by the modern public of
+the work of almost any true person, living or dead. It is not needful
+to state here the causes of such error; but the fact is indeed so, that
+precisely the distinctive root and leading force of any true man's work
+and way are the things denied him.
+
+"And in these books of mine, their distinctive character, as essays on
+art, is their bringing everything to a root in human passion or human
+hope. Arising first not in any desire to explain the principles of art,
+but in the endeavor to defend an individual painter from injustice, they
+have been colored throughout, nay, continually altered in shape, and
+even warped and broken, by digressions respecting social questions,
+which had for me an interest tenfold greater than the work I had been
+forced into undertaking. Every principle of painting which I have
+stated is traced to some vital or spiritual fact; and in my works on
+architecture the preference accorded finally to one school over another
+is founded on a comparison of their influences on the life of the
+workman,--a question by all other writers on the subject of architecture
+wholly forgotten or despised.
+
+"The essential connection of the power of landscape with human emotion
+is not less certain because in many impressive pictures the link is
+slight or local. That the connection should exist at a single point is
+all that we need.... That difference, and more, exists between the power
+of Nature through which humanity is seen, and her power in the desert.
+Desert,--whether of leaf or sand,--true desertness, is not in the want
+of leaves, but of life. Where humanity is not and was not, the best
+natural beauty is more than vain. It is even terrible; not as the
+dress cast aside from the body, but as an embroidered shroud hiding a
+skeleton."
+
+The volume, as a whole, will be found less dogmatic, calmer, more
+convincing, and more directly applicable to artistic judgment, than any
+of the others. There is the same love of mysticism and undermeanings,
+but freighted with deeper and more central truths: a charming conclusion
+to a fourteen-years' diary of such study of Art and Nature, so severe,
+so unremitting, as never critic gave before.
+
+
+_Syntax of the Moods and Tenses of the Greek Verb._ By W.W. GOODWIN,
+Ph.D. Cambridge: Sever and Francis.
+
+Grammarians had once a simple way of disposing of the subject on which
+Professor Goodwin has given us this elaborate treatise of three hundred
+pages.
+
+In the Greek Grammar of the Messieurs de Port Royal, which Gibbon
+praises so highly in his charming autobiography, and which has passed
+through several editions in England within the present century, we
+are taught, that, "though the moods [in Greek] are not to be rejected
+entirely, yet their signification is sometimes so very arbitrary, that
+they are put for one another through all tenses." Lancelot himself
+seems to have had a glimmering of the essential incredibility of this
+statement; for, though he attempts to substantiate it by citing from
+Greek authors a number of passages in which the Greek idiom happens to
+differ from the Latin,--passages, however, which Mr. Goodwin would have
+been glad to use, had they fallen in his way, to illustrate the regular
+constructions of the language,--he feels it necessary to appeal to
+the authority of the learned Budæus, the greatest of the early Greek
+scholars. Strange as it seems that really accomplished Greek scholars
+should have charged Plato and Demosthenes, speaking the most perfect of
+tongues, with arbitrary interchanges of moods and tenses, yet the same
+views continued to be presented in grammatical works down to the close
+of the last century. The transition to the new school of grammarians was
+made in 1792, by the publication of a Greek Grammar by Philip Buttmann,
+which, in the greatly improved form which it afterwards received from
+his hands, is familiar to all Greek scholars. In our frequent boasts of
+the great strides that knowledge has taken in the present century, we
+commonly have in mind the physical sciences; but we doubt whether in any
+department of physical science the manuals in use seventy-five years
+ago are so utterly inferior to those of the present day as are, for
+instance, the remarks of Viger, and his commentators before Hermann, on
+the syntax of the Greek verb, to the philosophical treatment of the same
+points by Professor Goodwin.
+
+This work is entitled, we think, to rank with the best grammars of the
+Greek language that have appeared in German or English, in all the
+points that constitute grammatical excellence; while its monographic
+character justified and required an exhaustive treatment of its
+particular topic, not to be found even in the huge grammars of Matthiæ
+and Kühner. Indeed, not the least of its merits is this, that, in
+addition to the excellent matter which is original with Professor
+Goodwin, it furnishes to the student, American or English,--for we hope
+to see its merits recognized on the other side of the Atlantic,--a
+digest, as it were, of all that is most valuable on the subject of the
+syntax of the Greek verb in the best German grammars, from Buttmann
+to Madvig, enhanced, too, in value by being recast and worked into a
+homogeneous system by an acute scholar and experienced teacher. One
+excellence of the book we would by no means pass over, an excellence
+which we are sure will be particularly appreciated by all who have used
+translations of German grammars,--the precision both of thought and
+expression by which it is characterized, which releases the student from
+the labor of constructing the meaning of a rule from the data of the
+appended examples. Not that Mr. Goodwin is chary of examples; on the
+contrary, one of the most attractive and not least profitable features
+of the book is the copiousness and freshness of the illustrative
+quotations from Greek authors. These are as welcome as the brightness of
+newly minted coin to the eye which, in consulting grammar after grammar,
+has been condemned to meet under corresponding rules always the same
+examples, till they begin to produce that effect upon the nerves which
+all have experienced at the mention of the deadly upas-tree, or the
+imminence of the dissolution of the Union.
+
+We must not omit to speak of the typographical merit of the work,--and
+especially of what constitutes the first and the last merit of books of
+this class, the excellent table of contents, and the indexes, Greek and
+English, which leave nothing to be desired in the way of facility of
+reference, except, perhaps, an index to the quotations.
+
+
+_The Law of the Territories_. Philadelphia: C. Sherman & Son.
+
+The author of the two able essays contained in this volume will be
+remembered by many of our readers under his assumed name of "Cecil."
+The second, as he himself tells us, on "Popular Sovereignty in the
+Territories," was published, as one of a series of essays on Southern
+politics, in the Philadelphia _North American and United States
+Gazette_. The first, we believe, has never been published before.
+
+Our author, whom we may designate, without violating any confidence, as
+Mr. George Sidney Fisher, devotes an elaborate preface, which is itself
+a third essay, to discussing the invasion of Virginia by John Brown and
+the Southern threats of secession, drawing from the foray of Harper's
+Ferry a conclusion very different from that of the disunionists. In his
+own words,--
+
+ "Disunion is a word of fear. Is it not
+ strange that it should have been as yet pronounced
+ only by the South? The danger of
+ insurrection and servile war belongs to the
+ nature of slavery. It is, perhaps, not too much
+ to assert that the safety and tranquillity of
+ Southern society depend on the fact that the
+ Northern people are close at hand to aid in
+ case of need,--that the power of the General
+ Government is ever ready for the same purpose.
+ Four millions of barbarians, growing
+ with tropical vigor, and soon to be eight millions,
+ with tropical passions boiling in their
+ blood, endowed with native courage, with
+ sinews strong by toil, and stimulated by the
+ hope of liberty and unbounded license, are
+ not to be trifled with. Take away from them
+ the idea of an irresistible power in the North,
+ ready at any moment to be invoked by their
+ masters, or let them expect in the North, not
+ enemies, but friends and supporters, which
+ even now they are told every day by these
+ masters they may expect,--and how soon
+ might a flame be lighted which no power in
+ the South could extinguish!"
+
+Mr. Fisher treats of the "Law of the Territories" in two essays,--the
+first considering more particularly "The Territories and the
+Constitution," the second, "Popular Sovereignty in the Territories." The
+first commences with a quotation so happy that it has all the effect of
+original wit:--
+
+ "The wily and witty Talleyrand was once
+ asked the meaning of the word 'non-intervention,'
+ so often used in European diplomacy.
+ 'It is a word,' he replied, 'metaphysical and
+ political, not accurately defined, but which
+ means--much the same thing as intervention!'
+ The same word has been frequently
+ employed, of late years, in our politics, with
+ the same difference between its professed
+ and its practical signification. It was introduced
+ for the first time in reference to the
+ government of the Territories, when it became
+ an object for the South to gain Kansas as a
+ Slave State. Two obstacles were to be overcome.
+ One was the Missouri Compromise,
+ which was a solemn compact between North
+ and South to settle a disturbing and dangerous
+ question; the other was a possible majority
+ in Congress, that, it was feared, might prohibit
+ slavery in the new Territory. Southern
+ politicians had at the time control of the government;
+ and they got rid of both difficulties
+ by repealing the Missouri Compromise in the
+ Kansas and Nebraska Bill. By necessary implication,
+ arising from the relation of the Territories
+ to the rest of the nation, by the language
+ of the Constitution, and by the uniform
+ construction of it and practice under it from
+ the earliest period of our history, the Territories
+ had been subjected to the absolute control
+ of the General Government. By the Kansas
+ and Nebraska Bill they were withdrawn
+ from that control. The principle of Popular
+ Sovereignty, it was said, applied to them as
+ well as to the States; and this bill declared
+ that the people of the Territories should be
+ perfectly free to choose their own domestic
+ institutions and regulate their own affairs in
+ their own way."
+
+The means employed to carry out this plan and the ultimate failure of
+the plan itself are sketched with a boldness and vigor that our limits,
+much to our regret, forbid our reproducing. Mr. Fisher, however, fails
+to notice the wretched plea put forth by the Democratic managers,
+in favor of the recognition by Congress of the Lecompton
+Constitution,--that it had been officially authenticated. All might be
+wrong, but the official record pronounced it right; and behind that
+record Congress had no authority to go. And this plea was advanced in
+the face of overwhelming evidence tending to show that the officials,
+for whose record so inviolable a sanctity was claimed, were appointed
+for the express purpose of falsifying that record! If confirmation be
+wanted, we need go no farther than the fate of Robert J. Walker, who was
+eager to make Kansas a Slave State, but was so false to every principle
+of Democratic integrity as to confine himself to legitimate means to
+bring about that result,--a remissness for which he was promptly removed
+by President Buchanan! Mr. Fisher pertinently says,--
+
+"Two great facts were plainly visible through the flimsy web of attorney
+logic and quibbling technicality, not very ingeniously woven to conceal
+them. One of these facts was, that the people of Kansas were heartily
+and almost unanimously averse to slavery; the other was, that the
+Government was trying by every means in its power to impose slavery upon
+them."
+
+After describing the contemptuous rejection by the people of Kansas of
+the pro-slavery constitution, Mr. Fisher proceeds with an analysis of
+the Kansas-Nebraska fraud, so clear and so masterly that we must again
+quote his own language, with an occasional condensation or omission.
+
+"It was clear, therefore, that the principle of Popular Sovereignty,
+introduced by the Kansas and Nebraska Bill, a principle before unknown
+to the law and practice of our government, would not suit the South.
+It appeared too probable that not only the people to inhabit all the
+territory north of 36° 30', but also much territory south of it, would,
+like the people of Kansas, reject slavery, if left to regulate their
+domestic institutions in their own way. What, then, were Southern
+politicians to do? Invoke the ancient and long exercised, but now denied
+and derided power of Congress over the Territories? This might prove a
+dangerous weapon in the hands of possible future Northern majorities. It
+was obviously necessary to withdraw slavery alike from the control of
+Congress and of the people of a Territory. Some ingenuity was required
+for this. The doctrine that the Constitution extends to the Territories
+(a doctrine broached before by Mr. Calhoun, but always defeated on the
+ground that the Constitution, by its language and the practice under it,
+was made for States only, and that the Territories were subject to the
+supreme control of Congress,--a control frequently exercised, not only
+independently of the Constitution, but in a manner incompatible with it)
+was introduced, with other innovations, into the Kansas and Nebraska
+Bill. The Dred Scott decision of the Supreme Court followed, by which
+the Constitution recognizes slavery as a national institution. It
+recognizes slaves as mere property, differing in no respect from other
+merchandise. The Territories belong to the nation. Every citizen has
+equal rights to them and in them. Why, therefore, may not a Southern
+man, as well as a Northern man, go into them with his _property_? What
+right has Congress to place the South under an ignominious bar of
+restriction? The Constitution declares that slaves are property; that
+all the States and the people have equal rights. The Territories belong
+to all. Therefore, under the Constitution, they should be enjoyed by
+all.
+
+"By this ingenious logic the Kansas and Nebraska Bill is made to
+contradict itself. It first declares that the Constitution extends to
+the Territories; in other words, slavery exists there by force of the
+Constitution, without reference to the will of the people. It then says
+that the people of the Territories shall be 'perfectly free to form and
+regulate their domestic institutions in their own way.'
+
+"The contradictions, duplicity, and absurdity of the law are obvious at
+once. The first sentence announces a change in the settled principles
+and policy of the Government; else why declare that the Constitution
+'_shall_' extend to Nebraska, if it already extended there? Then comes
+the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The reason given for this is,
+that it is inconsistent with the non-intervention by Congress with
+slavery, recognized in the Compromise of 1850. But that law declares
+positively that Congress does not intervene, _because it is
+'inexpedient'_ to do so; and gives the reason why it is inexpedient. The
+_power_ of Congress _was asserted_ by Mr. Clay, who made the law, and
+the terms of it were chosen for the very purpose of preventing any
+inference being drawn from it against that power.
+
+"It is remarkable, too, that the Bill, whilst declaring the _perfect_
+freedom of the Territories, should still have left them subject to the
+power of the President, who, as before, is permitted to appoint their
+Governor, Judges, and Marshals, officers who are his agents, and without
+whose sanction the acts of the Territorial Legislature can neither
+become laws, nor be construed and applied, nor executed. So that the
+will of the people may be defeated, should it happen to be opposed to
+the will of the President: as was seen in the case of Kansas.
+
+"Why," Mr. Fisher asks, "is the anomalous monster of Popular Sovereignty
+to be introduced with reference to slavery? Is it because slaves are
+'mere property'? Why, then, not subject all property, land included, to
+popular control? Is it because the subject of slavery is an exciting
+topic, a theme for dangerous agitation, to be checked only by placing
+the subject beyond the power of Congress? The answer is, that Congress
+cannot abdicate its power on the ground of expediency. If it may give up
+one power, it may give up all. Nor can Congress delegate its power for
+the same reason. Trust power, from its very nature, cannot be delegated.
+To break down great principles, to set aside ancient usage, to abandon
+legal authority, in order to appease the contests of parties, is too
+great a sacrifice. No true peace can come of it; only suppressed and
+adjourned war."
+
+The natural inference from the extracts we have given would be that Mr.
+Fisher was a member of the Republican party. But such is not the fact:
+Mr. Fisher rests his hope upon a party "yet to be organized." "The
+extreme Northern, or Free-soil, or Abolition party is only less guilty
+than the extreme Southern and Democratic party." Which? Does Mr. Fisher
+mean that "Northern," "Free-soil," and "Abolition" are synonymous terms?
+And does any or do all of them mean the Republican party? Or, finally,
+does Mr. Fisher shrink from the conclusions presented by his logic, and
+is his vaguely convenient linking together of different words intended
+to leave his position gracefully doubtful? And in that case, do the
+Baltimore nominations, with their innocent unconsciousness, supply his
+political needs? It is not easy to answer these questions. We begin now
+upon the views of a Pennsylvania Oppositionist; and quicksilver defied
+not more utterly the skill of Raymond Lullius than the doctrines of the
+Philadelphia school perplex the inquiries of sharply defined New England
+minds. The rudimentary state of Republican principles may nowhere else
+be so clearly seen as in Pennsylvania. Four years of the Democratic
+administration of her "favorite son" have done much to make her less
+favored sons into good Republicans; but the State needs another
+Democratic President. Mr. Fisher appears to much more advantage in
+pulling down than in building up. We have hitherto seen only the keen,
+fearless dissector of fraud and hypocrisy; we are now to contemplate a
+circumspect alarmist, who dreads to call things by their right names
+for fear of unpleasant consequences. He is such a master of English,
+so judicious in the use of middle terms,--so shrewd a fencer
+altogether,--that even his timidity cannot make him other than a
+formidable opponent.
+
+Mr. Fisher, believing that slavery receives ample protection from a fair
+interpretation of the Constitution, holds that
+
+"Congress has plenary power over the Territories, often exercised on
+this subject of slavery. It may be said that Congress has on various
+occasions prohibited slavery in the Territories. True; but with the
+consent and coöperation of the Southern States. The people of all the
+States have equal right in the Territories. To exclude the people of the
+Slave States, therefore, _without their consent_, would be unequal and
+opposed to the spirit of the Constitution."
+
+Certainly it would. Who proposes to do it? No living man, woman, or
+child. It is worth noticing, by the way, that the Republican party is
+not committed to the doctrine of carrying out the principle of the
+Wilmot Proviso. But supposing it were, Mr. Fisher's argument has
+no force or direction, unless he can establish his suppressed
+premise,--that the exclusion of slavery from the Territories is the
+exclusion of "the people of the Slave States" from the Territories.
+And to make that good, all Mr. Fisher's skill and ingenuity will
+be required. Why so many Northern politicians should have weakly
+surrendered this point is a mystery. Because the slaveholders (who are
+not, Mr. Fisher, "the people of the Slave States," by any means, but a
+small portion of them) are at home a privileged aristocracy, have they
+any claim to the same position abroad? If so, on what does it rest? The
+laws of the Southern States? They are now beyond their jurisdiction. The
+common law? To that wise and beneficent law slavery is a thing unknown.
+The Constitution? It is silent. There is no exclusion of the Southerners
+even proposed. Let them come: but when they claim to carry with them
+the right to hold a certain class of men as property because they
+are recognized as property by certain local regulations elsewhere
+prevailing, they must not complain, if such a claim be disallowed. The
+Southerner's complaint, that he is accustomed to the institution of
+slavery, is fairly met by the Northerner's retort, that he is accustomed
+to the institution of freedom.
+
+Now, which voice shall prevail? Neither party has any more right than
+the other; and neither party has any right at all. The Territories are
+in a state of wardship; and Congress is to decide as it thinks best for
+their welfare, present and future; and if Congress thinks that a nation
+prospers with free institutions and droops under slavery, then let
+Congress admit the Territory as a Free State. True, there is some
+inconvenience to the slave-holder; but from so abnormal a relation as
+slavery some inconvenience must result. When admitted to be a necessary
+evil, it is barely tolerable; when boastingly proclaimed to be a
+sovereign good, it is fairly intolerable. And it is both criminal and
+foolish to try to make good all the evils inseparable from slavery by
+systematic injustice to other interests.
+
+ "Slavery has changed. When Southern
+ men consented to its prohibition, they hoped
+ and believed that the time would come when
+ it could be abolished altogether. They have
+ as much right to these as to their former opinions,
+ and to have them represented in the
+ Government."
+
+Here Mr. Fisher hints at, rather than fully states, the grand retort of
+the Southerners,--"Our fathers, you say, were opposed to slavery: very
+good; but we are not: why should we be bound by their opinions?" A mere
+misapprehension of the force of the argument. The Southerner of 1860 is
+_not_ bound by the opinions of Madison and Jefferson; but the North
+may fairly adduce the opinions of those men, who were framers of the
+Constitution, not as binding upon their descendants, but as serving to
+explain the meaning of disputed provisions in that Constitution. The
+Constitution binds us all, North and South: then recurs the question,
+What is the meaning of its provisions? and _then_ the contemporaneous
+opinions of its framers come legitimately into play as an argument.
+
+Of the Missouri Compromise Mr. Fisher says,--
+
+ "It may be said that this law was a violation
+ of the equal rights of the Southern people,
+ by excluding them from a large portion
+ of the national domain. The answer is, not
+ merely that this was done with their consent,
+ their representatives having approved the law,
+ but that the law did recognize their rights,
+ by dividing between them and the Northern
+ people all the territory then possessed by the
+ Government."
+
+We are surprised that upon his own presentation of the case this simple
+question does not occur to Mr. Fisher: Supposing the South and the North
+to have had equal and conflicting rights in the national domain, and
+supposing that there was need of some arbiter, and remembering that
+Congress undertook the duties of arbiter and decided that the
+division under the Missouri Compromise gave each section its rightful
+share,--then, with what propriety can the South, after occupying its own
+share, call for a portion in the share allotted to the North?
+
+The second essay, on "Popular Sovereignty in the Territories," presents
+comparatively few salient points. A very spirited and just history of
+the working of the Administration schemes in Kansas, a restating of
+some of the arguments against the Kansas-Nebraska Act set forth in the
+preceding essay, and a remonstrance against the headstrong course of
+Southern politicians are its most noticeable features.
+
+ "The Union, the Constitution, and the
+ friendship of the North: these are the pillars
+ on which rest the peace, the safety, the
+ independence of the South. The extraordinary
+ thing is, that for some years past the South
+ has been, and now is, sedulously employed in
+ undermining this triple foundation of its power
+ and safety. Its extravagant pretensions,
+ its excesses, its crimes, are rapidly cooling
+ the friendship of the North,--converting it,
+ indeed, into positive enmity. Its leading politicians
+ are ever plotting and threatening disunion.
+ disunion will he proffered to them from the North, not
+ as a vague and passionate threat, but as a positive
+ and well-considered plan, backed by a
+ force of public opinion which nothing can resist.
+ Ere long, the South is likely to be left
+ with no other defence than the Union it has
+ weakened and the Constitution it has mutilated
+ and defaced.
+
+ "The makers of the Kansas and Nebraska
+ law were clumsy workmen. They forgot to
+ provide for the case of an anti-slavery President.
+ They will, perhaps, learn wisdom by
+ experience.
+
+ "'To wilful men
+ The injuries that they themselves procure
+ Must be their schoolmasters.'
+
+ "Those who framed the Constitution and laid
+ the foundation of this Union understood their
+ business better. That Constitution was intended
+ to protect the South, and has protected
+ it. Southern politicians cannot improve
+ it. For their own sakes they had better
+ let it alone."
+
+We have given enough to show that in discussing Mr. Fisher we are
+dealing with two different men. The field is now clear for the great
+political contest of 1860. Mr. Fisher may have allied himself before
+this with the Republicans, or may look to have his anticipations
+fulfilled by that third party who are as unconscious of wrong as
+powerless to rectify it, "the world-forgetting, by the world forgot." We
+wish him well through his troubles.
+
+
+_A Dictionary of English Etymology._ By HENSLEIGH WEDGWOOD, M. A. Late
+Fellow of Chr. Coll. Cam. Vol. I. (A-D.) London: Trübner and Co., 60
+Paternoster Row. 1859. pp. xxiv., 507.
+
+There is nothing more dangerously fascinating than etymologies. To the
+uninitiated the victim seems to have eaten of "insane _roots_ that take
+the reason prisoner"; while the illuminate too often looks upon the
+stems and flowers of language, the highest achievements of thought and
+poesy, as mere handles by which to pull up the grimy tubers that lie at
+the base of articulate expression, shapeless knobs of speech, sacred to
+him as the potato to the Irishman.
+
+The sarcasms of Swift were not without justification; for crazier
+analogies than that between Andromache and Andrew Mackay have been
+gravely insisted on by persons who, like the author of "Amilec,"
+believed that the true secret of philosophizing _est celui de rêver
+heureusement_. It is only within a few years that etymological
+investigations have been limited by anything; like scientific precision,
+or that profound study, patient thought, and severity of method
+have asserted in this, as in other departments of knowledge, their
+superiority to point-blank guessing and the bewitching generalization
+conjured out of a couple or so of assumed facts, which, even if they
+turn out to be singly true, are no more nearly related than Hecate and
+green cheese.
+
+We do not object to that milder form of philology of which the works
+of Dean Trench offer the readiest and most pleasing example, and which
+confines itself to the mere study of words, to the changes of form and
+meaning they have undergone and the forgotten moral that lurks in them.
+But the interest of Dr. Trench and others like him sticks fast in words,
+it is almost wholly an aesthetic interest, and does not pretend to
+concern itself with the deeper problems of language, its origin, its
+comparative anatomy, its bearing upon the prehistoric condition of
+mankind and the relations of races, and its claim to a place among the
+natural sciences as an essential element in any attempt to reconstruct
+the broken and scattered annals of our planet. It would not be just to
+find fault with Dr. Trench's books for lacking a scientific treatment
+to which they make no pretension, but they may fairly be charged with
+smelling a little too much of the shop. There is a faint odor of the
+sermon-case about every page, and we learn to dread, sometimes to skip,
+the inevitable homily, as we do the moral at the end of an Æsopic fable.
+We enter our protest, not against Dr. Trench in particular, for his
+books have other and higher claims to our regard, but because we find
+that his example is catching, the more so as verbal morality is much
+cheaper than linguistic science. If there be anything which the study of
+words should teach, it is their value.
+
+There are two theories as to the origin of language, which, for
+shortness, may be defined as the poetic and the matter-of-fact. The
+former (of which M. Ernest Renan is one of the most eloquent advocates)
+supposes a primitive race or races endowed with faculties of cognition
+and expression so perfect and so intimately responsive one to the
+other, that the name of a thing came into being coincidently with the
+perception of it. Verbal inflections and other grammatical forms came
+into use gradually to meet the necessities of social commerce between
+man and man, and were at some later epoch reduced to logical system by
+constructive minds. If we understand him rightly, while not excluding
+the influence of _onomatopeia_, (or physical imitation,) he would attach
+a far greater importance to metaphysical causes. He says admirably
+well, "La liaison du sens et du mot n'est jamais _nécessaire_, jamais
+_arbitraire_; toujours elle est _motivée_." His theory amounts to this:
+that the fresh perfection of the senses and the mental faculties made
+the primitive man a poet.
+
+The other theory seeks the origin of language in certain imitative
+radicals out of which it has analogically and metaphorically developed
+itself. This system has at least the merits of clearness and simplicity,
+and of being to a certain extent capable of demonstration. Its
+limitation in this last respect will depend upon that mental
+constitution which divides men naturally into Platonists and
+Aristotelians. It has never before received so thorough an exposition
+or been tested by so wide a range of application as in Mr. Wedgwood's
+volume, nor could it well be more fortunate in its advocate. Mr.
+Wedgwood is thorough, scrupulous, and fair-minded.
+
+It will be observed that neither theory brings any aid to the attempt
+of Professor Max Müller and others to demonstrate etymologically the
+original unity of the human race. Mr. Wedgwood leaves this question
+aside, as irrelevant to his purpose. M. Renan combats it at considerable
+length. The logical consequence of admitting either theory would be that
+the problem was simply indemonstrable.
+
+At first sight, so imaginative a scheme as that of M. Renan is
+singularly alluring; for, even when qualified by the sentence we have
+quoted, we may attach such a meaning to the word _motivée_ as to find in
+words the natural bodies of which the Platonic ideas are the soul and
+spirit. We find in it a correlative illustration of that notion not
+uncommon among primitive poets, and revived by the Cabalists, that
+whoever knew the Word of a thing was master of the thing itself, and an
+easy way of accounting for the innate fitness and necessity, the fore
+ordination, which stamps the phrases of real poets. If, on the other
+hand, we accept Mr. Wedgwood's system, we must consider speech, as
+the theologians of the Middle Ages assumed of matter, to be only
+_potentiated_ with life and soul, and shall find the phenomenon of
+poetry as wonderful, if less mysterious, when we regard the fineness of
+organization requisite to a perception of the remote analogies of sense
+and thought, and the power, as of Solomon's seal, which can compel the
+unwilling genius back into the leaden void which language becomes when
+used as most men use it.
+
+There is a large class of words which every body admits to be imitative
+of sounds,--such, for example, as _bang, splash, crack_,--and Mr.
+Wedgwood undertakes to show that their number and that of their
+derivative applications is much larger than is ordinarily supposed. He
+confines himself almost wholly to European languages, but not always to
+the particular class of etymologies which it is his main object to trace
+out. Some of his explanations of words, not based upon any real or
+assumed radical, but showing their gradual passage toward their present
+forms and meanings, are among the most valuable parts of the book.
+As striking proofs of this, we refer our readers to Mr. Wedgwood's
+treatment of the words _abide, abie, allow, danger, and denizen_. When
+he differs from other authorities, it is never inconsiderately or
+without examination. Now and then we think his derivations are
+far-fetched, when simpler ones were lying near his hand. He makes the
+Italian _balcone_ come from the Persian _båia khaneh_, an upper chamber.
+An upper chamber over a gate in the Persian caravanserais is still
+called by that name, according to Rich. (p. 97.) Yet under the
+word _balk_ we find, "A hayloft is provincially termed the _balks_,
+(Halliwell,) because situated among the rafters. Hence also, probably,
+the Ital. _balco_, or _pulcoy_ a scaffold; a loftlike erection supported
+upon beams." As a _balcone_ is not an upper chamber, nor a chamber over
+a gate, but is precisely "a loftlike erection supported upon beams," it
+seems more reasonable to suppose it an augmentative formed in the usual
+way from _balco_. Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of barbican from _bala
+khaneh_ seems to us more happy. (Ducange refers the word to an Eastern
+source.) He would also derive the Fr. _ébaucher_ from _balk_, though we
+have a correlative form, _sbozzare_, in Italian, (old Sp. _esbozar_,
+Port, _esboyar_, Diez,) with precisely the same meaning, and from a
+root _bozzo_, which is related to a very different class of words from
+_balk_. So bewitched is Mr. Wedgwood with this word _balk_, that he
+prefers to derive the Ital. _valicam, varcare_, from it rather than from
+the Latin _varicare_. We should think a deduction from the latter to the
+English _walk_ altogether as probable. Mr. Wedgwood also inclines to
+seek the origin of _acquaint_ in the Germ, _kund_, though we have all
+the intermediate steps between it and the Mid. Lat. _adcognitare_.
+Again, under _daunt_ he says, "Probably not directly from Lat. _domare_,
+but from the Teutonic form _damp_, which is essentially the same word."
+It may be plain that the Fr. _dompter_ (whence _daunt_) is not directly
+from _domare_, but not so plain, as it seems to us, that it is not
+directly from the frequentative form domitare.--"_Decoy_. Properly
+_duck-coy_, as pronounced by those who are familiar with the thing
+itself. '_Decoys_, vulgarly _duck-coys_.'--Sketch of the Fens, in
+Gardener's Chron. 1849. Du. _koye_, cavea, septum, locus in quo
+greges stabulantur.--Kil. _Kooi, konw, kevi_, a cage; _vogel-kooi_, a
+bird-cage, decoy, apparatus for entrapping waterfowl. Prov. E. _Coy_,
+a decoy for ducks, a coop for lobsters.--Forby. The name was probably
+imported with the thing itself from Holland to the fens." (p. 447.)
+_Duck-coy_, we cannot help thinking, is an instance of a corruption like
+_bag o' nails_ from _bacchanals_, for the sake of giving meaning to a
+word not understood. Decoys were and are used for other birds as well as
+ducks, and _vogel-kooi_ in Dutch applies to all birds, (answering to our
+trap-cage,) the special apparatus for ducks being an _eende-kooi_. The
+French _coi_ adverbialized by the prefix _de_, and meaning quietly,
+slyly, as a hunter who uses decoys must demean himself, would seem
+a more likely original.--_Andiron_ Mr. Wedgwood derives from Flem.
+_wend-ijser_, turn-irons, because the spit rested upon them. But the
+original meaning seems to have no reference to the spit. The French
+_landier_ is plainly a corruption of the Mid. Lat. _anderia_, by the
+absorption of the article (_l'andier_). This gives us an earlier form
+_andier_, and the augmentative _andieron_ would be our word.--_Baggage_.
+We cannot think Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of this word from _bague_ an
+improvement on that of Ducange from _baga_, area.--_Coarse_ Mr. Wedgwood
+considers identical with _course_,--that is, of course, ordinary. He
+finds a confirmation of this in the old spelling. Old spelling is seldom
+a safe guide, though we wonder that the archaic form _boorly_ did not
+seem to him a sufficient authority for the common derivation of _burly_.
+If _coarse_ be not another form of _gross_, (Fr. _gros_, _grosse_,)
+then there is no connection between _corn_ and _granum_, or _horse_ and
+_ross_.--"_Cullion_. It. _Coglione_, a cullion, a fool, a scoundrel,
+properly a dupe. See Cully. It. _cogionare_, to deceive, to make a dupe
+of.... In the Venet. _coglionare_ becomes _cogionare_, as _vogia_ for
+_voglia_.... Hence E. to _cozen_, as It. _fregio_, frieze; _cugino_,
+cousin; _prigione_, prison." (p. 387.) Under _cully_, to which Mr.
+Wedgwood refers, he gives another etymology of _coglione_, and, we
+think, a wrong one. _Coglionare_ is itself a derivative form from
+_coglione_, and the radical meaning is to be sought in _cogliere_, to
+gather, to take in, to pluck. Hence a _coglione_ is a sharper, one who
+takes in, plucks. _Cully_ and _gull_ (one who is taken in) must be
+referred to the same source. Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of _cozen_ is
+ingenious, and perhaps accounts for the doubtful Germ, _kosen_, unless
+that word itself be the original.--"_To chaff_, in vulgar language to
+rally one, to chatter or talk lightly. From a representation of the
+inarticulate sounds made by different kinds of animals uttering rapidly
+repeated cries. Du. _keffen_, to yap, to bark, also to prattle, chatter,
+tattle. Halma," etc. We think it demonstrable that _chaff_ is only a
+variety of _chafe_, from Fr. _écauffer_, retaining the broader sound of
+the _a_ from the older form _chaufe_. So _gaby_, which Mr. Wedgwood (p.
+84) would connect with _gäwisch_, (Fr. _gauche_,) is derived immediately
+from O. Fr. _gabé_, (a laughing-stock, a butt,) the participial form of
+_gaber_, to make fun of, which would lead us to a very different root.
+(See the _Fabliaux, passim_.)--_Cress_. "Perhaps," says Mr. Wedgwood,
+(p. 398,) "from the crunching sound of eating the crisp, green herb."
+This is one of the instances in which he is lured from the plain path by
+the Nixy _Onomatopoeia_. The analogy between _cress_ and _grass_ flies
+in one's eyes; and, perhaps, the more probable derivation of the latter
+is from the root meaning to grow, rather than from that meaning to eat,
+unless, indeed, the two be originally identical. The A. S. forms
+_coers_ and _goers_ are almost identical. The Fr. _cresson_, from It.
+_crescione_, which Mr. Wedgwood cites, points in the direction of
+_crescere_; and the O. Fr. _cressonage_, implying a verb _cressoner_,
+means the right of _grazing_.--Under _dock_ Mr. Wedgwood would seem
+(he does not make himself quite clear) to refer It. _doccia_ to a root
+analogous with _dyke_ and _ditch_. He cites Prov. _doga_, which he
+translates by _bank_. Raynouard has only "_dogua_, douve, creux,
+cavité," and refers to It. _doga_. The primary meaning seems rather
+the hollow than the bank, though this would matter little, as the same
+transference of meaning may have taken place as in _dyke_ and _ditch_,
+But when Mr. Wedgwood gives mill-_dam_ as the first meaning of the word
+_doccia_, his wish seems to have stood godfather. Diez establishes the
+derivation of _doccia_ from _ductus_; and certainly the sense of
+a channel to lead (_ducere_) water in any desired direction is
+satisfactory. The derivative signification of _doccia_ (a gouge, a tool
+to make channels with) coincides. Moreover, we have the masculine form
+_doccio_, answering exactly to the Sp. _ducho_ in _aguaducho_, the _o_
+for _u_, as in _doge_ for _duce_, from the same root _ducere_. Another
+instance of Mr. Wedgwood's preferring the bird in the bush is to be
+found in his refusing to consider _dout_, to extinguish, (_do out_,) as
+analogous to _don, _doff_, and _dup_. He would rather connect it with
+_tödten, tuer_. He cites as allied words Bohemian _dusyti_, to choke, to
+extinguish; Polish _dusic_, to choke, stifle, quell; and so arrives at
+the English slang phrase, "_dowse_ the glim." As we find several other
+German words in thieves' English, we have little doubt that _dowse_ is
+nothing more than _thu' aus_, do (thou) out, which would bring us back
+to our starting-point.
+
+We have picked out a few instances in which we think Mr. Wedgwood
+demonstrably mistaken, because they show the temptation which is ever
+lying in wait to lead the theoretical etymologist astray. Mr. Wedgwood
+sometimes seems to reverse the natural order of things, and to reason
+backward from the simple to the more complex. He does not always respect
+the boundaries of legitimate deduction. On the other hand, his case
+becomes very strong where he finds relations of thought as well as of
+sound between whole classes of words in different languages. But it is
+very difficult to say how long ago instinctive imitation ceased and
+other elements are to be admitted as operative. We see words continually
+coming into vogue whose apparent etymologies, if all historical data of
+their origin were lost, would inevitably mislead. If we did not know,
+for example, the occasion which added the word _chouse_ to the English
+language, we have little doubt that the twofold analogy of form and
+meaning would have led etymologists to the German _kosen_, (with the
+very common softening of the _k_ to _ch_,) and that the derivation would
+have been perfectly satisfactory to most minds.--_Tantrums_ would look
+like a word of popular coinage, and yet we find a respectable Old High
+German verb _tantarôn_, delirare, (Graff, V. 437,) which may perhaps
+help us to make out the etymology of _dander_, in our vulgar expression
+of "getting one's dander up," which is equivalent to flying into a
+passion.--_Jog_, in the sense of _going_, (to _jog_ along,) has a vulgar
+look. Richardson derives it from the same root with the other _jog_,
+which means to shake, ("A. S. _sceac-an_, to _shake_, or _shock_, or
+_shog_.") _Shog_ has nothing whatever to do with shaking, unless when
+Nym says to Pistol, "Will you _shog_ off?" he may be said to have shaken
+him off. When the Tinker in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Coxcomb" says,
+"Come, prithee, let's _shog_ off," what possible allusion to shaking is
+there, except, perhaps, to "shaking stumps"? The first _jog_ and _shog_
+are identical in meaning and derivation, and may be traced, by whosoever
+chooses, to the Gothic _tiuhan_, (Germ, _ziehen_,) and are therefore
+near of kin to our _tug_. _Togs_ and _toggery_ belong here also. (The
+connecting link may be seen in the preterite form _zog_.) The other
+_jog_ probably comes to us immediately from the French _choquer_; and
+its frequentative _joggle_ answers to the German _schutkeln_, It.
+_cioccolare_. Whether they are all remotely from the same radical is
+another question. We only cited it as a monosyllabic word, having
+the air of being formed by the imitative process, while its original
+_tiuhan_ makes quite another impression.--Had the word _ramose_ been a
+word of English slang-origin, (and it might easily have been imported,
+like so many more foreign phrases, by sailors,) we have as little doubt
+that a derivation of it from the Spanish _vamos_ would have failed to
+convince the majority of etymologists. This word is a good example of
+the way in which the people (and it is always the people, never the
+scholars, who succeed in adding to the spoken language) proceed in
+naturalizing a foreign term. The accent has gone over to the last
+syllable, in accordance with English usage in verbs of two syllables;
+and though the sharp sound of the _s_ has been thus far retained, it is
+doubtful how long it will maintain itself against a fancied analogy
+with the grave sound of the same letter in such words as _inclose_ and
+_suppose_.--We should incline to think the slang verb _to mosey_ a mere
+variety of form, and that its derivation from a certain absconding
+Mr. Moses (who broke the law of his great namesake through a blind
+admiration of his example in spoiling the Egyptians) was only a new
+instance of that tendency to mythologize which is as strong as ever
+among the uneducated. _Post, ergo propter_, is good people's-logic; and
+if an antecedent be wanting, it will not be long before one is invented.
+
+If we once admit the principle of _onomatopoeia_, the difficulty remains
+of drawing the line which shall define the territory within which those
+capable of judging would limit its operation. Its boundary would be
+a movable one, like that of our own Confederacy. Some students, from
+natural fineness of ear, would be quicker to recognize resemblances of
+sound; others would trace family likeness in spite of every disguise;
+others, whose exquisiteness of perception was mental, would find the
+scent in faint analogies of meaning, where the ordinary brain would be
+wholly at fault. In the original genesis of language, also, we should
+infer the influence of the same idiosyncrasies. We were struck with this
+the other day in a story we heard of a little boy, who, during a violent
+thunder-storm, asked his father what that was out there,--all the while
+winking rapidly to explain his meaning. Had his vocabulary been more
+complete, he would have asked what that _winking_ out there was. The
+impression made upon him by the lightning was not the ordinary one of
+brightness, (as in _blitz_, (?) _éclair_, _fulmen_, _flash_,) but of
+the rapid alternations of light and dark. Had he been obliged to make
+a language for himself, like the two unfortunate children on whom King
+Psarnmetichus made his linguistic experiment, he would have christened
+the phenomenon accordingly.
+
+Mr. Wedgwood has by no means carried out his theory fully even in
+reference to the words contained in his first volume, nor does the
+volume itself nearly exhaust the vocabulary of the letters it includes
+(A to D). Sometimes, where we should have expected him to apply his
+system, he refrains, whether from caution or oversight it is not easy
+to discover. The word _cow_, which is commonly referred to an imitative
+radical, he is provokingly reserved about; and under _chew_ he hints
+at no relation between the name of the action and that of the capital
+ruminant animal.[a] Even where he has derived a word from an imitative
+radical, he sometimes fails to carry the process on to some other where
+it would seem equally applicable, sometimes pushes it too far. For
+instance, "_Crag_. 1. The neck, the throat.--Jam. Du. _kraeghe_, the
+throat; Pol. _kark_, the nape, crag, neck; Bohem. _krk_, the neck; Icel.
+_krage_, Dan. _krave_, the collar of a coat. The origin is an imitation
+of the noise made by clearing the throat. Bohem. _krkati_, to belch,
+_krcati_, to vomit; Pol. _krzakaé_, to hem, to hawk. The same root gives
+rise to the Fr. _cracher_, to spit, and It. _recere_, to vomit; E.
+_reach_, to strain in vomiting; Icel. _hraki_, spittle; A. S. _hrara_,
+cough, phlegm, the throat, jaws; G. _rachen_, the jaws." (As _crag_
+is not an English word, all this should have come under the head of
+_craw_.) "_Crag_. 2. A rock. Gael. _creag_, a rock; W. _careg_, a stone;
+_caregos_, pebbles." We do not see why the rattling sound of stones
+should not give them a claim to the same pedigree,--the name being
+afterwards transferred to the larger mass, the reverse of which we see
+in the popular _rock_ for _stone_. Nay, as Mr. Wedgwood (_sub voce
+draff_, p. 482) assumes _rac_ (more properly _rk_) as the root, it would
+answer equally well for _rock_ also. Indeed, as the chief occupation
+of crags, and their only amusement, in mountainous regions, is to pelt
+unwary passengers and hunters of scenery with their _débris_, we might
+have _creag, quasi caregos faciens sive dejiciens, sicut rupes a
+rumpere_. Indeed, there is an analogous Sanscrit root, meaning _break,
+crack_. But though Mr. Wedgwood lets off this coughing, hawking,
+spitting, and otherwise unpleasant old patriarch _Rac_ so easily in
+the case of the foundling _Crag_, he has by no means done with him.
+Stretched on the unfilial instrument of torture that bears his name, he
+is made to confess the paternity of _draff_, and _dregs_, and _dross_,
+and so many other uncleanly brats, that we feel as if he ought to be
+nailed by the ear to the other side of the same post on which Mr.
+Carlyle has pilloried August _der starke_ forever. But we honestly
+believe the old fellow to be belied, and that he is as guiltless of them
+as of that weak-witted Hebrew _Raca_ who looks so much like him in the
+face.
+
+[Footnote a: An etymology of this kind would have been particularly
+interesting in the hands of so learned and acute a man as Mr. Wedgwood.
+It would have afforded him a capital example of the fact that
+considerable differences in the form and sound of words meaning the same
+thing prove nothing against the onomatopoeic theory, but merely that the
+same sound represents a different thing to different ears. L. _Boare,
+mugire_, E. _moo_; F. _beugler_, E. _bellow_; G. _leuen_, L. _lugere_,
+E. _low_, are all attempts at the same sound, or, which would not affect
+the question, variations of an original radical _gô_ or _gu_. For a
+full discussion of the matter, admirable for its thorough learning, see
+Pictet, _Les Origines Indo-Européennes_, Vol. I. Section 86.]
+
+In the case of _crag_, Mr. Wedgwood argues from a sound whose frequency
+and marked character (and colds must have been frequent when the
+fig-tree was the only draper) gave a name to the organ producing it.
+We can easily imagine it. One of these early pagans comes home of an
+evening, heated from the chase, and squats himself on the damp clay
+floor of a country-seat imperfectly guarded against draughts. The next
+morning he says to his helpmeet, "Mrs. Barbar, I have a dreadful cold
+in my--_hrac_! _hrac_!" Here he is interrupted by a violent fit of
+coughing, and resorts to semeiology by pointing to his throat. Similar
+incidents carrying apprehension (as Lord Macaulay would say) to the
+breezy interiors of a thousand shanties on the same fatal morning, the
+domestic circle would know no name so expressive as _hrac_ for that
+fatal tube through which man, ingenious in illegitimate perversion,
+daily compels the innocent breath to discharge a plumbeous hail of
+rhetoric.
+
+But seriously, we think Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of _crag_ (or rather,
+that which he adopts, for it has had other advocates) a very probable
+one, at least for more northern tribes. There is no reason why men
+should have escaped the same law of nomenclature which gave names to the
+_cuckoo_ and the _pavo_.[a] But when he approaches _draff_, he gets upon
+thinner ice. Where a metaphorical appropriateness is plainly wanting to
+one etymology and another as plainly supplies it, other considerations
+being equal, probability may fairly turn the scale in favor of the
+latter. Mr. Wedgwood is here dealing with a sound translated to another
+meaning by an intellectual process of analogy; and no one knows better
+than he--for his book shows everywhere the fair-mindedness of a thorough
+scholar--the extreme difficulty of convincing other minds in such
+matters. He seems to have been unconsciously influenced in this case by
+a desire to give more support to a very ingenious etymology of the word
+_dream_. His process of reasoning may be briefly stated thus: _draff_
+and _dregs_ are refuse, they are things thrown away, sometimes (as in
+German _dreck_, sordes) they are even disgustful; and as there is no
+expression of contempt and disgust so strong as spitting, the sound
+_rac_ transferred itself by a natural association of ideas from the act
+to the object of it. He cites Du. _drabbe_, Dan. _drav_, Ger. _träbern_,
+Icel. _dregg_, Prov. _draco_, Ger., Du. _dreck_, O. F. _drache,
+drêche_, (and he might have added E. _trash_,) E. _dross_, all with
+nearly the same meaning. We have selected such as would show the
+different forms of the word. To the same radical Mr. Wedgwood refers G.
+_trüjen_, _betrügen_, and this would carry with it our English _trick_
+(Prov. _tric_, in Diez, Fr. _triche_). In our opinion he is wrong,
+doubly wrong, inasmuch as we think he has confounded two widely
+different roots. He has taken his O. Fr. forms from Roquefort (Gloss.
+Rom. I. 411,) but has omitted one of his definitions, _coque qui
+enveloope le grain_, that is, the husk, or hull. Mr. Wedgwood might
+perhaps found an argument on this in support of our old friend _Rac_ and
+his relation to huskiness; but it seems to us one of those trifles, the
+turned leaf, or broken twig, that put one on the right trail. We
+accept Mr. Wedgwood's derivative signification of _refuse, worthless,
+contemptible_, and ask if all these terms do not apply equally well to
+the chaff of the threshing-floor? It is more satisfactory to us, then,
+to attribute a part of the words given above to the Gothic _dragan_,
+(L. _trahere_, G. _tragen_,) to drag, to draw, and a part to Goth.
+_thriskan_, to thresh. The conjecture of Diez, (cited by Diefenbach,)
+that the Italian _trescare_ (to stamp with the feet, to dance) should
+be referred to the same root, is confirmed by the ancient practice of
+threshing grain by treading it out with cattle. We might, indeed, refer
+all to one root, by deriving _dross_ (a provincial form of which is
+_drass_) through the O. Fr. _drache_, (as in O. Fr. _treche_, Fr.
+_tresse_, E. _tress_,) but we have A. S. _dresten_, which is better
+accounted for by _therscan_. The other forms, such as _drabbe_, _dregg_,
+and _dragan_, the _b_ and _v_ being analogous to E. _draggle, drabble,
+draught, draft_, all equally from _dragan_. We have a suspicion that
+_dragon_ is to be referred to the same root. Mr. Wedgwood follows
+Richardson, who follows Vossius in a fanciful etymology from the Greek
+[Greek: derkomai = blepein] to see. Sharpness of sight, it is true, was
+attributed to the mythologized reptile, but the primitive _draco_ was
+nothing but a large serpent, supposed to be the boa. This sense must
+accordingly be comparatively modern. The eagle is the universal type of
+keenness of vision. The reptile's way of moving himself without legs is
+his most striking peculiarity; and if we derive _dragon_ from the root
+meaning to drag, to draw, (because he draws himself along,) we find it
+analogous to _serpent_, _reptile_, _snake_.[b] The relation between
+[Greek: trechein] and _dragan_ may be seen in G. _ziehen_, meaning both
+to draw and to go. Mr. Wedgwood says that he finds it hard to conceive
+any relation between the notion of _treachery_, _betrayal_, (_trügen_,
+_betrügen_,) and that of drawing. It would seem that to _draw_ into
+an ambush, the _drawing_ of a fowler's net, and the more sublimated
+_drawing_ a man on to his destruction, supplied analogies enough. The
+contempt we feel for treachery (for it is only in this metaphysical way
+that Mr. Wedgwood can connect the word with his radical _rac_[c]) is a
+purely subsidiary, derivative, and comparatively modern notion. Many,
+perhaps most, kinds of treachery were looked upon as praiseworthy in
+early times, and are still so regarded among savages. Does Mr. Wedgwood
+believe that Romulus lost caste by the way in which he made so many
+respectable Sabines fathers-in-law against their will, or that the wise
+Odysseus was a perfectly admirable gentleman in our sense of the word?
+Even in the sixteenth century, in the then most civilized country of the
+world, the grave irony with which Macchiavelli commends the frightful
+treacheries of Cæsar Borgia would have had no point, if he had not taken
+it for granted that almost all who read his treatise would suppose him
+to be in earnest. In the same way _dregs_ is explained simply as the
+sediment left after _drawing off_ liquids. _Dredge_ also is certainly,
+in one of its meanings, a derivative of _dragan_; so, too, _trick_ in
+whist, and perhaps _trudge_. Indeed, all the words above-cited are more
+like each other than Fr. _toit_ and E. _deck_, both from one root, or
+the Neapol. _sciù_ and the Lat. _flos_, from which it is corrupted.
+
+[Footnote a: The German _pfau_ retains the imitative sound which the
+English _pea_-cock has lost, and of which our system of pronunciation
+robs the Latin.]
+
+[Footnote b: And to _worm_, (another word for _dragon_,) if, as has been
+conjectured, there be any radical affinity between that and _schwärmen_,
+whose primitive sense of crawl or creep is seen in the _swarming_ of
+bees, and _swarming_ up a tree.]
+
+[Footnote c: That is, unless he takes the _rag_ in _dragan_ to be the
+same thing, which he might support with several plausible analogies,
+such as E. _rake_, It. _recare_, etc.]
+
+But the same subtilty of mind, which sometimes seduces Mr. Wedgwood into
+making distinctions without a difference and preferring an impalpable
+relation of idea to a plain derivative affinity, is of great advantage
+to him when the problem is to construct an etymology by following the
+gossamer clews that lead from sensual images to the metaphorical and
+tropical adaptations of them to the demands of fancy and thought. The
+nice optics that see what is not to be seen have passed into a sarcastic
+proverb; yet those are precisely the eyes that are in the heads and
+brains of all who accomplish much, whether in science, poetry, or
+philosophy. With the kind of etymologies we are speaking of, it is
+practically useful to have the German gift of summoning a thing up from
+the depths of one's inward consciousness. It is when Mr. Wedgwood would
+reverse the order of Nature, and proceed from the tropical to the direct
+and simple, that we are at issue with him. For it is not philosophers
+who make language, though they often unmake it.
+
+Mr. Wedgwood's most successful application of his system may be found,
+as we think, under the words, _dim_, _dumb_, _deaf_, and _death_. He
+might have confirmed the relation between dumbness and darkness from the
+acutest metaphysician among poets, in Dante's _ove il sol tace_. We have
+not left ourselves room enough to illustrate Mr. Wedgwood's handling of
+these etymologies by extracts; we must refer our readers to the book
+itself. Apart from its value as suggesting thought, or quickening our
+perception of shades of meaning, and so freshening our feeling of the
+intimate harmony of sense and spirit in language, and of the thousand
+ways in which the soul assumes the material world into her own heaven
+and transfigures it there, the volume will be found practically the most
+thorough contribution yet made to English etymology. We are glad to hear
+that we are to have an American edition of it under the able supervision
+of Mr. Marsh. Etymology becomes of practical importance, when, as the
+newspapers inform us, two members of a New York club have been fighting
+a duel because one of them doubted whether Garry Baldy were of Irish
+descent. Any student of language could have told them that Garibaldi is
+only the plural form (common in Italian family names) of Garibaldo, the
+Teutonic Heribald, whose meaning, appropriate enough in this case, would
+be nearly equivalent to Bold Leader.
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Atlantic Monthly Volume 6, No. 34, August,
+1860, 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 Volume 6, No. 34, August, 1860
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 12, 2004 [eBook #11061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY VOLUME 6, NO. 34,
+AUGUST, 1860***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen, and Project Gutenberg
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
+
+A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
+
+VOL. VI.--AUGUST, 1860.--NO. XXXIV.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CARNIVAL OF THE ROMANTIC.
+
+
+Whither went the nine old Muses, daughters of Jupiter and the Goddess
+of Memory, after their seats on Helicon, Parnassus, and Olympus were
+barbarized? Not far away. They hovered like witches around the seething
+caldron of early Christian Europe, in which, "with bubble, bubble, toil
+and trouble," a new civilization was forming, mindful of the brilliant
+lineage of their worshippers, from Homer to Boethius, looking upon the
+vexed and beclouded Nature, and expecting the time when Humanity should
+gird itself anew with the beauty of ideas and institutions. They were
+sorrowful, but not in despair; for they knew that the children of men
+were strong with recuperative power.
+
+The ear of Fancy, not long since, heard the hoofs of winged Pegasus
+striking the clouds. The long-idle Muses, it seemed, had become again
+interested in human efforts, and were paying a flying visit to the
+haunts of modern genius from the Hellespont to the Mississippi.
+They lingered in sunny Provence, and in the dark forest-land of the
+Minnesingers. In the great capitals, as Rome, Berlin, Paris, London,--in
+smaller capitals, as Florence, Weimar, and Boston,--in many a village
+which had a charm for them, as Stratford-on-Avon, Ferney, and Concord
+in Massachusetts,--in the homes of wonderful suffering, as Ferrara and
+Haworth.--on many enchanted waters, as the Guadalquivir, the Rhine,
+the Tweed, the Hudson, Windermere, and Leman,--in many a monastic nook
+whence had issued a chronicle or history, in many a wild birthplace of a
+poem or romance, around many an old castle and stately ruin, in many a
+decayed seat of revelry and joyous repartee,--through the long list
+of the nurseries of genius and the laboratories of art, they wandered
+pensive and strangely affected. At length they rested from their journey
+to hold a council on modern literature. The long results of Christian
+time were unrolled before them as in a chart. They beheld the dawn of a
+new historic day, marked by songs of fantastic tenderness, and unwieldy,
+long, and jointless romances and poems, like the monsters which played
+in the unfinished universe before the creation of man. The Muses smiled
+with a look more of complaisance than approval, as they reviewed the
+army of Troubadours and Minnesingers and the crowd of romancers who
+followed in their train. They decided that the joyous array of early
+mediaeval literature was full of promise, though something of its tone
+and temper was past the comprehension of pagan goddesses. The legends of
+saints and pictures of martyrdoms were especially mysterious to them,
+and they regarded them raptly, not smilingly, and bowed their heads.
+Anon their eyes rested on an Italian city, where uprose, as if in
+interstellar space, an erect figure, with a piercing eye, pleasant as
+Plato's voice. His countenance was fixed upon the empyrean, and a more
+than Minerva-like form hovered above him, interpreting the Christian
+universe; and as he wrote what she dictated, the verses of his poem were
+musical even to the Muses. Dante, Beatrice, and the "Divine Comedy,"
+with a Gothic church as a make-weight, were balanced in Muses' minds in
+comparison with the "Iliad" and the age of Pericles; and again they put
+on the rapt look of mystery, but a smile also, and their admiration
+and applause were more and more. To England they soon turned, and
+contemplated the round, many-colored globe of Shakspeare's works. As
+playful swallows sometimes dart round and round a lithe and wondering
+wingless animal, so they, admiringly and timidly, attracted, yet
+hesitating, delighting in his alertness, but not quite understanding it,
+flitted like a troubled and beautiful flock around the great magician of
+modern civilization. Their glance became lighter and less intent, as if
+they were nearer to knowledge, the pain of perplexity disappeared like a
+shadow from their countenances, their plaudits were more unreserved, and
+it seemed likely that the high desert of Shakspeare would win for our
+new literature a favorable recognition from the aristocratic goddesses
+of antiquity. Knowing that Jove had made perfection unattainable by
+mortals, they yet found in the chart before them epics, dramas, lyrics,
+histories, and philosophies that were no unworthy companions to the
+creations of classical genius, and they were jubilant in the triumphs
+of a period in which they had been rather ignorantly and ironically
+worshipped. Their sitting was long, and their review thorough, yet they
+found but one department of modern literature which was regarded with a
+distrust that grew to an aversion. The romances, the tales, the stories,
+the novels were contemned more and more, from the first of them to the
+last. Nothing like them had been known among the glories of Hellenic
+literary art, and no Muse now stood forth to be their defender and
+patron. Calliope declared that they were not epical, Euterpe and Erato
+that they were not lyrical, Melpomene and Thalia that they were neither
+tragical nor comical, Clio that they were not historical, Urania that
+they were not sublime in conception, Polymnia that they had no stately
+or simple charm in execution, and Terpsichore, who had joined with
+Melpomene in admiring the opera, found nothing in the novel which she
+could own and bless. Fleeting passages, remote and slight fragments,
+were pleasing to them all, like the oases of a Sahara, or the sites of
+high civilization on the earth; but the whole world of novels seemed to
+them a chaos undisciplined by art and unformed to beauty. The gates of
+the halls where the classics live in immortal youth were beginning to
+close against the voluminous prose romances that have sprung from modern
+thought, when the deliberations of the Muses were suddenly interrupted.
+They had disturbed the divine elements of modern society. Forth from all
+the recesses of the air came troops of Gothic elves, trolls, fairies,
+sprites, and all the other romantic beings which had inspired the modern
+mind to novel-writing,--marching or gambolling, pride in their port,
+defiance in their eye, mischief in their purpose,--and began so vigorous
+an attack upon their classic visitors and critics, that the latter were
+glad to betake themselves to the mighty-winged Pegasus, who rapidly bore
+them in retreat to the present home of the _Dii Majores_, that point of
+the empyrean directly above Olympus.
+
+And well, indeed, might the Muses wonder at the rise of the novel and
+its vast developments, for the classic literature presents no similar
+works. One of Plato's dialogues or Aesop's fables is as near an approach
+to a prose romance as antiquity in its golden eras can offer. The few
+productions of the kind which appeared during the decline of literature
+in the early Christian centuries, as the "Golden Ass" of Apuleius and
+the "AEthiopica" of Heliodorus, were freaks of Nature, an odd growth
+rather than a distinct species, and are also to be contrasted rather
+than compared with the later novel. Such as they are, moreover, they
+were produced under Christian as much as classic influences. The
+aesthetic Hellenes admitted into their literature nothing so composite,
+so likely to be crude, as the romance. Their styles of art were all
+pure, their taste delighted in simplicity and unity, and they strictly
+forbade a medley, alike in architecture, sculpture, and letters. The
+history of their development opens with an epic yet unsurpassed, and
+their literary creations have been adopted to be the humanities of
+Christian universities. A writer has recently proposed to account for
+their success in the arts from the circumstance that the features of
+Nature around them were small,--that their hornet-shaped peninsula was
+cut by mountains and inlets of the sea into minute portions, which the
+mind could easily compass, the foot measure, and the hand improve,--that
+therefore every hillock and fountain, every forest and by-way was
+peopled with mythological characters and made significant with
+traditions, and the cities were adorned with architectural and
+sculptured masterpieces. Greece thus, like England in our own time,
+presented the character of a highly wrought piece of ground,--England
+being the more completely developed for material uses, and Greece being
+the more heavily freighted with legends of ideal meaning. Small-featured
+and large-minded Greece is thus set in contrast with Asia, where the
+mind and body were equally palsied in the effort to overcome immense
+plains and interminable mountain-chains. But whatever the reason,
+whether geographical or ethnological, it is certain that the people of
+Greece were endowed with a transcendent genius for art, which embraced
+all departments of life as by an instinct. Every divinity was made a
+plain figure to the mind, every mystery was symbolized in some positive
+beautiful myth, and every conception of whatever object became
+statuesque and clear. This artistic character was possible to them from
+the comparatively limited range of pagan imagination; their thought
+rarely dwelt in those regions where reason loves to ask the aid
+of mysticism, and all remote ideas, like all remote nations, were
+indiscriminately regarded by them as barbarous. But guarded by the
+bounds of their civilization, as by the circumfluent ocean-stream of
+their olden tradition, they were prompted in all their movements by the
+spirit of beauty, and philosophers have accounted them the very people
+whose ideas were adequately and harmoniously represented in sensible
+forms,--unlike the nations of the Orient, where mind is overawed by
+preponderating matter, and unlike the nations of Christendom, where the
+current spiritual meanings reach far into the shadowy realm of mystery
+and transcend the power of material expression.
+
+Thus art was the main category of the Greeks, the absolute form which
+embraced all their finite forms. It moulded their literature, as it did
+their sculpture, architecture, and the action of their gymnasts and
+orators. They therefore delighted only in the highest orders and purest
+specimens of literature, refused to retain in remembrance any of the
+unsuccessful attempts at poetry which may be supposed to have preceded
+Homer, and gave their homage only to masterpieces in the dignified
+styles of the epic, the drama, the lyric, the history, or the
+philosophical discussion. Equal to the highest creations, they refused
+to tolerate anything lower; and they knew not the novel, because their
+poetical notions were never left in a nebulous, prosaic state, but were
+always developed into poetry.
+
+Another reason, doubtless, was the wonderful activity of the Greek mind,
+finding its amusement and relaxation in the forum, theatre, gymnasium,
+or even the barber's shop, in constant mutual contact, in learning
+wisdom and news by word of mouth. The long stories which they may
+have told to each other, as an outlet for their natural vitality, as
+extemporaneous exercises of curiosity and wit and fancy, did not creep
+into their literature, which included only more mature and elaborate
+attempts.
+
+The modern novel was born of Christianity and feudalism. It is the child
+of contemplation,--of that sort of luxurious intellectual mood which has
+always distinguished the Oriental character, and was first Europeanized
+in the twilight of the mediaeval period. The fallen Roman Empire was
+broken into countless fragments, which became feudal baronies. The heads
+of the newly organized society were lordly occupants of castles, who in
+time of peace had little to do. They were isolated from their neighbors
+by acres, forests, and a stately etiquette, if not actual hostility.
+There was no open-air theatre in the vicinity, no forum alive with
+gossip and harangues, no public games, not even a loquacious barber's
+shop. During the intervals between public or private wars,--when the
+Turks were unmolested, the crescent and the dragon left in harmless
+composure, and no Christians were in mortal turmoil with each other,--it
+is little wonder that restless knights went forth from their loneliness
+errant in quest of adventures. What was there to occupy life in those
+barricaded stone-towers?
+
+It was then that the domestic passion, love, rose into dignity. Homage
+to woman assumed the potency of an idea, chivalry arose, and its truth,
+honor, and obeisance were the first social responses from mankind to
+Christianity. The castle was the emblem and central figure of the time:
+it was the seat of power, the arena of manners, the nursery of love, and
+the goal of gallantry; and around it hovered the shadows of religion,
+loyalty, heroism. Domestic events, the private castellar life, were thus
+exalted; but they could hardly suffice to engross and satisfy the spirit
+of a warrior and crusader. A new diversion and excitement were demanded,
+and soon, in response to the call, minstrels began to roam from castle
+to castle, from court to court, telling long stories of heroism and
+singing light songs of love. A spark from the Saracenic schools and
+poets of Spain may have flitted into Provence to kindle the elements
+of modern literature into its first development, the songs of the
+Troubadours. Almost contemporary were the lays of the Minnesingers in
+Germany and the romances of the Trouveres in Northern France. Beneath
+the brooding spirit of a new civilization signs of life had at length
+appeared, and Europe became vocal in every part with fantastic poems,
+lyrical in the South, epical in the North. They were wildly exuberant
+products, because severe art was unknown, but simple, _naive_, and gay,
+and suited to the taste of a time when the classics were regarded as
+superstitiously as the heavens. Love and heroism, which somehow are the
+leading themes of literature in all ages, now assumed the chivalric type
+in the light hands of the earliest modern poets.
+
+Yet these songs and metrical romances were most inadequate
+representatives of the undeveloped principles which lay at the root of
+Christian civilization. Even Hellenic genius might here have been at
+fault, for it was a far harder task to give harmonious and complete
+expression to the tendencies of a new religion and the germs of new
+systems, than to frame into beauty the pagan clear-cut conceptions. The
+Christian mind awoke under a fascination, and, for a time, could
+only ejaculate its meanings in fragments, or hint them in vast
+disproportions, could only sing snatches of new tunes. Its first signs
+were gasps, rather than clear-toned notes, after the long perturbations
+and preparations of history. The North and the South, the East and the
+West had been mingled together; the heated and heaving mass had been
+tempered by the leaven of Christianity:--and had all this been done
+only to produce an octo-syllabic metre in praise of fantastic and semi-
+barbaric sentiments and exploits? Had there been such commotions of the
+universe only for a song? Surely these first creations of art, these
+first attempts at literature, these first carvings of a rude spiritual
+intensity, were only such as the Greeks may have forgotten any quantity
+of before Homer came, their first glory and their oldest reminiscence.
+
+One reason, perhaps, why mediaeval literature assumed so light and
+unartistic a form was, that by necessity it could not be full-orbed.
+Religion could not enter into it as a plastic element, but was fixed, a
+veiled, external figure, radiating indeed color and fragrance, but
+not making one of the struggling, independent vitals of the heart.
+Literature could play about this figure, but could not grasp it, and
+take it in among the materials to be fashioned. The Church, through
+its clergy, held jealous command of divine knowledge, beneath divine
+guidance, and left no developments of it possible to the lay mind, which
+culminated in minstrels and romancers. The Greeks, on the contrary,
+whose religion was an apotheosis of the earth, framed upwards and only
+by fiction of fancy handed downwards, derived all their theology from
+the poets. Prophecy and taste were combined in Homer,--Isaiah and the
+king's jester in Pindar. The care of the highest, not less than the
+lowest departments of thought, fell upon the creative author, and
+a happy suggestion became a new article in the Hellenic creed. His
+composition thus bore the burden and was hallowed by the sanctity
+of piety, the key to every human perfect thing. But the Provencal
+celebrators of love and chivalry had no such dignity in their task. The
+solemnities of thought and life were cared for and hedged about by the
+Church as its own peculiar treasure, and to them there remained only the
+lighter office of amusing. The age was eminently religious, but the poet
+could not aid in erecting and adorning its temples. Every fair work of
+art must have a central idea; but the proper principle of unity for
+all grand artistic efforts not being within the reach of authors, it
+followed that their productions were not symmetrical, did not have an
+even outline nor cosmical meaning, did not consist of balanced parts,
+were poorly framed and articulated, and were charming only by their
+flavor, and not by their form. The cultured intellect will not seriously
+work short of a final principle; and if a materialized religion, an
+ecclesiastical structure, be firmly planted on the earth by the same
+hand that established the universe and tapestried it with morning and
+evening, and if its gates and archways, its altar, columns, and courts
+be given in trust to chosen stewards as a divine priesthood, then the
+highest problem of being is not a human problem, and the mind of the
+laity has nothing more important to do than to play with the flowers of
+gallant love and heroism. Such was the feeling, perhaps the unconscious
+reasoning, of the founders of modern literature, as they began their
+labors in the alcoves of that church architecture which covered
+Christendom, embracing and symbolically expressing all its ideas
+and institutes. Therefore some vice of imperfection, a character of
+frivolity, or an artificially serious treatment of lightsome subjects
+marked all the literature of the time, which resembled that grotesque
+and unaccountable mathematical figure that has its centre outside of
+itself.
+
+Modern literature thus had its origin in romantic metrical pieces,
+which, in the next stage, were transformed into prose novels. Two
+circumstances contributed to this change,--a change which could not have
+been anticipated; for the Trouvere _fabliaux_ and _romans_ promised only
+epics, and the Troubadour _chansons_ and _tensons_ promised only lyrics
+and dramas. But the mind was now obliged to traverse the unbeaten paths
+of the Christian universe; it was overwhelmed by the extent of its
+range, the richness and delicacy of its materials; it could with
+difficulty poise itself amid the indefinite heights and depths which
+encompassed it, and with greater difficulty could wield the magician's
+rod which should sway the driving elements into artistic reconstruction.
+This mental inadequacy alone would not have created the novel, but would
+only have made lyrics and epics rare, the works of superior minds. The
+second and cooperating circumstance was the prevalence of the Christian
+and feudal habit of contemplation, which made constant literature a
+necessity. Nothing less than eternal new romances could save the lords,
+the ladies, and the dependents from _ennui_. But to supply these in a
+style of proper and antique dignity was beyond the power of the poets.
+In the wild forests of the mind they could rarely capture a mature idea,
+and they were as yet unpractised artists. Yet contemplative leisure
+called eagerly for constant titbits of romance to tickle the palate and
+furnish a diversion, while the genius of Christian poetry was yet in
+infantile weakness. The dilemma lasted but a moment, and was solved by
+an heroic effort of the poets to do, not what they would, but what they
+could. Yielding to practical necessities, they renounced the traditions
+of the classical past, which now seemed to belong to another hemisphere,
+abandoned the attempt to realize pure forms, postponed high art; melody
+gave way to prose, the romance degenerated into the novel, and prose
+fiction, which erst had flitted only between the tongue and ear,
+entered, a straggling and reeling constellation, into the firmament of
+literature. Hence the novel is the child of human impotency and despair.
+The race thereby, with merriment and jubilee, confessed its inability
+to fulfil at once its Christian destiny as completely as the Greeks
+had fulfilled their pagan possibilities. Purity of art was left to
+the future, to Providence, or to great geniuses, but the novel became
+popular.
+
+Thus the modern novel had its genesis not merely in a contemplative
+mood, but in contemplation which was forced by the impetuous temper of
+the times to fail of ever reaching the dignity of thoughtfulness. It
+was the immature product of an immature mental state; and richly as
+sometimes it was endowed by every human faculty, by imagination, wit,
+taste, or even profound thought, it yet never reached the goal of
+thought, never solved a problem, and, in its highest examples, professed
+only to reveal, but not to guide, the reigning manners and customs.
+Rarely did its materials pass through the fiery furnace whence art
+issues; it was a work of unfaithful intellect, prompted by ideas which
+never culminated and were never realized; and it did not rise much above
+the "stuffs" of life, as distinguished from the organic creations of the
+mind. A many-limbed and shambling creature, which was not made a
+spirit by the power of an idea, it fluttered amid all the culture of a
+people,--amid the ideas and modes of the state, the church, the family,
+the world of society,--like a bungler among paint-pots; but the paints
+still remained paints on the canvas, instead of being blended and
+transfigured into a thing of beauty. It was the organ of society, but
+not of the essential truths which vitalize society, and its incidents
+did not rise much above the significance of accidents.
+
+What the novel was in knightly days, that it has continued to be. There
+is a mysterious practical potency in precedent. All ideas and institutes
+seem to grow in the direction of their first steps, as if from germs.
+Thus, the doctrines of the Church fathers are still peculiarly
+authoritative in theology, and the immemorial traditions of the common
+law are still binding in civil life. Man seems to be an experimental
+far more than a freely rational animal; for a fact in the past exerts
+a greater influence in determining future action than any new idea. A
+revolution must strike deep to eradicate the presumption in favor of
+ages. Learned men are now trying to read the hieroglyphics of the East,
+the records of an unknown history. Perhaps the result of their labors
+will temper the next period in the course of the world more than all our
+thinkers. Destiny seems to travel in the harness of precedents.
+
+Thus, in obedience to the law of precedent, the mild gambols, the
+_naive_ superficiality, the child-like irresponsibility for thinking,
+which were the characteristics of the first European novels, have
+generally distinguished the unnumbered and unclassified broods of them
+which have abounded in subsequent literature. Designed chiefly to amuse,
+to divert for a moment rather than to present an admirable work of art,
+to interest rather than to instruct and elevate, the modern romance has
+in general excused itself from thorough elaboration. Instead of being
+a chastened and symmetrical product of the whole organic mind, it has
+mainly been inspired by the imagination, which has been called the fool
+in the family of the faculties, and wrought out by the assistance of
+memory, which mechanically links the mad suggestions of its partner
+with temporal events. It is in literature something like what a feast
+presided over by the king's jester and steward would have been in
+mediaeval social life. Let any novel be finished, let all the resources
+of the mind be conscientiously expended on it, let it become a thorough
+intellectual creation, and, instead of remaining a novel, it would
+assume the dignity of an epic, lyric, drama, philosophy, or history. Its
+nebulae would be resolved into stars.
+
+Has, then, the mild and favorite blossom, the _fabula romanensis_, which
+was so abundant in the Middle Ages, which has grown so luxuriantly
+and given so general delight in modern times,--has it no place in
+the natural history of literature? Shall it be mentioned only as an
+uncompleted something else,--as an abortive effort of thought,--as
+a crude _melange_ of elements that have not been purified and fused
+together in the focus of the mind? And were the Muses right in refusing
+to admit it into their sacred realm of art?
+
+An affirmative answer can hardly be true; for an absurdity appears in
+the reduction that it would cause in the quantity of our veritable
+literature, and in the condemnation that it would pass on the tastes of
+many most intelligent writers and readers. Yet a comparison of the novel
+with the classical and pure forms of literature will show its unlikeness
+to them in design, dignity, and essential quality.
+
+It was a favorite thesis of Fielding, often repeated by his successors,
+that the novel is a sort of comic epopee. Yet the romantic and the epic
+styles have nothing in common, except that both are narrative. The epic,
+the rare and lofty cypress of literature, is the story of a nation and a
+civilization; the novel, of a neighborhood and a generation. A thousand
+years culminate in the former; it sums up the burden and purpose of
+a long historical period; and its characters are prominent types in
+universal history and in highest thought. But the novel is the child
+of a day; it is the organ of manners and phases, not of principles and
+passions; it does not see the phenomena of earth in heavenly or logical
+relations, does not transform life into art, and is a panorama, but not
+a picture. So long as man and heroism and strife endure, shall Achilles,
+Godfrey, Satan, and Mephistopheles be types; for they are artistic
+expressions of essential and historical realities. But though the beck
+of curiosity lead us through the labyrinthine plot of a novel, long as
+Gibbon's way through the Dark Ages, yet, when we have finished it, the
+bubble collapses, the little heavens which had been framed about us roll
+away, and most rarely does a character remain poetically significant in
+the mind.
+
+A contrast of any page of an epic with one of a romance will show
+their essential unlikeness. Note, for instance, the beginning of the
+"Gerusalemme Liberata." The first stanza presents "the illustrious
+captain who warred for Heaven and saved the sepulchre of Christ,--the
+many deeds which he wrought by arms and by wisdom,--his great toil, and
+his glorious achievement. Hell opposed him, the mingled populations
+of Asia and Africa leagued against him,--but all in vain, for Heaven
+smiled, and guided the wandering bands beneath his sacred ensigns." Such
+are the splendid elements of the poem, outlining in a stanza the finest
+type, objects, and scenery of mediaeval heroism. The second stanza
+invokes the Muse,--"Not thou whose brow was wreathed with the unenduring
+bays of Helicon, but thou who in angelic choirs hast a golden crown set
+with immortal stars,--do thou breathe celestial ardor into the poet's
+heart!" Then follows an allusion to a profound matter of temper and
+experience. He prays that "the Muse will pardon, if sometimes he adorn
+his page with other charms than her own; for thus, perhaps, he may
+win the world to his higher meanings, shrouding severe truths in soft
+verses. As the rim of the bitter cup is sweetened which is extended to
+the sick child, so may he, by beauties not quite Christian, attract
+mankind to read his whole poem to their health." Such is the stately
+soaring of the epical Muse, the Muse of ideal history. Scholars find
+Greece completely prefigured in Homer, and the time may come when Dante
+and Tasso shall be the leading authorities for the history of the Middle
+Ages, and Milton for that of the ages of Protestantism.
+
+In such comparison novels are insignificant and imbecile. Though, like
+"Contarini Fleming," they may begin with a magnificent paragraph, and
+fine passages be scattered through the volumes, they are yet rarely
+stories of ideas as well as persons, rarely succeed in involving events
+of more than temporary interest, and rarely, perhaps, should be called
+great mental products.
+
+Not less strikingly does the difference between the epic and the novel
+appear in their different uses. The one is the inspiration of great
+historical action, the other of listless repose. The statesman, in the
+moment of debate, and in the dignity of conscious power, finds sympathy
+and encouragement in a passage of his favorite epic. Its grand types
+are ever in fellowship with high thoughts. The novel is for the lighter
+moment after the deed is done, when he is no longer brunting Fate, but
+reclining idly, and reflecting humorously or malignly on this life. The
+epic is closely and strongly framed, like the gladiator about to strike
+a blow: the novel is relaxed and at careless ease, like the club-man
+after lighting his pipe. The latter does not bear the burden of severe
+responsibility, but is a thing of holidays and reactions. Still, as of
+old, it answers to the contemplative castellar cry,--"Hail, romancer!
+come and divert me,--make me merry! I wish to be occupied, but not
+employed,--to muse passively, not actively. Therefore, hail! tell me
+a story,--sing me a song! If I were now in the van of an army and
+civilization, higher thoughts would engross me. But I am unstrung, and
+wish to be fanned, not helmeted."
+
+It has sometimes been claimed that the romantic style is essentially
+lyrical. But though the idea from which many novels start was perhaps
+the proper germ for one or more lyrics, it never attains in romance
+a pure and unincumbered development. We may illustrate the different
+intellectual creations founded on a common conception by imagining how
+one of Wordsworth's lyrical fancies might have been developed in three
+volumes of romance instead of three stanzas of poetry.
+
+ "She dwelt among the untrodden ways,
+ Beside the springs of Dove,
+ A maid whom there were none to praise,
+ And very few to love."
+
+The first line, romantically treated, would include description,
+soliloquy, and narrative, to show that in solitude the maiden had
+habits, duties, something to think about and be interested in. The
+accidental approach of some cosmopolitan visitor would give occasion to
+illustrate dramatically the contrast between life in retirement and in
+society. Some novelists also would inflict, either by direct lecture
+or by conversation of the actors, very admirable reflections on the
+comparative advantages of the two conditions. The second line would
+perhaps suggest only geographical lore and descriptions of scenery,
+though historical episodes might be added. The third line would
+involve a minute description of dress, complexion, stature, and wild
+gracefulness. In a psychological investigation it would come out what
+strange and simple notions she entertained of the great world, and what
+charming qualities of unsophisticated character belonged to her as she
+merrily or pensively went through her accustomed tasks. The fourth line,
+in which love is the text, would swell into mammoth proportions. New
+characters would be especially necessary in this culminating part of the
+story; and though they should be "very few," they would long occupy the
+novelist with their diverse excellencies or villanies, their rivalries
+and strategies. It is probable that the complete development of the
+stanza _a la romance_ would give a circumstantial history of the maiden
+from her birth, with glimpses more or less clear of all the remarkable
+people who dwelt near or occasionally visited the springs of Dove. Thus
+the same conception would become a stanza or a volume, according as its
+treatment were lyrical or romantic.
+
+It need hardly be shown that the novel is not a drama, not a history,
+nor fable, nor any sort of philosophical treatise. It may have
+sentences, paragraphs, or perhaps chapters, in every style and of the
+highest excellence, as a shapeless architectural pile may rejoice in
+some exquisite features or ornaments; but combined passages, though they
+were the collected charms of literature, do not make a work of art. The
+styles are mixed,--a certain sign, according to Lessing, of corruption
+of taste. Novels present the anomaly of being fiction, but not
+poetry,--of being fruits of imagination, but of imagination improvising
+its creations from local and temporal things, instead of speaking from
+a sublime stand-point and linking series of facts with processions of
+ideas. Sources of history, guides of philosophical retrospection, they
+may come some time to be; yet one cannot check a feeling of pity for
+the future historian who, in searching the "Pickwick Papers"
+for antiquities, finds himself bothered and confused by all the
+undisciplined witches of Mr. Dickens's imagination.
+
+If the novel be thus excluded from all the classical orders of
+literature, a trembling question is suggested, whether it may not be
+nevertheless a legitimate work of art. Though it be a _melange_ of
+styles, a story told, in literature what the story-teller is in
+society, yet why should it not have the honor among readers which
+the story-teller in all ages has had among listeners? Though by
+its escutcheon it assume a place among the amusing rather than the
+instructive class of books, why should not its nobility be recognized?
+
+The answer is found in the essential nature of art, in the almost
+eternal distinction between life and thought, between actual and ideal
+realities. Unity amid diversity is the type of intellectual beauty and
+the law of the universe; to comprehend it is the goal of science, and
+to reproduce it in human works is the aim of art. Yet how hard it is to
+find the central and essential idea in a world of apparent accidents and
+delusions! to chase the real and divine thing as it plays among cheats
+and semblances! Hence the difficulty of thorough thought, of faithful
+intellectual performance, of artistic creation. To the thoughtless man
+life is merely the rough and monotonous exterior of the cameo-stone; but
+the artist sees through its strata, discerns its layers of many colors,
+and from its surface to its vital centre works them all together into
+varied beauty. To live is common; but art belongs only to the finest
+minds and the best moments. Life is a burden of present multitudinous
+phenomena; but art has the simple unity of perfect science, and is
+a goal and aspiration. Life comes by birth, art by thought, and the
+travail that produces art is ofttimes the severer. The fashions of life
+are bubbles on the surface, and pass away with the season; but the
+creations of art belong to the depths of the spiritual world, where they
+shine like stars and systems in the physical universe.
+
+Story-telling is the most charming of occupations, and, whatever its
+relation to literary art, it is one of the graces of the art of life.
+Old as the race, it has always been in fashion on the earth, the delight
+of every clime from the Orient to the Occident, and of every age from
+childhood to second childhood. We live in such a concatenation of
+things,--our hopes, fears, loves, hates, struggles, sympathies, defeats,
+and triumphs make such a medley, with a sort of divine fascination about
+it,--that we are always interested to hear how anybody has borne himself
+through whatever varieties of fortune. At the basis of every other
+character which can be assumed by man lie the conceiver and the teller
+of stories; story-telling is the _prima facie_ quality of an intelligent
+and sociable being leading a life full of events in a universe full
+of phenomena. The child believes the wonders of romance by a right
+instinct; narratives of love and peril and achievement come home to the
+spirit of the youth; and the mystical, wonder-expecting eye of childhood
+returns to old age. The humor, wit, piety, and pathos of every age
+abound in the written stories of its people and children.
+
+Yet between the vocal story and the story in literature there is an
+immense difference, like that between talking and writing, between life
+and art. The qualities which in the story-teller make even frivolity
+weighty and dulness significant--the play of the eye, the lips, the
+countenance, the voice, the whole sympathetic expression of the
+person--are wanting to the novel; it has passed from the realm of life
+to that of art; it loses the charm which personal relations give even
+to trifles; it must have the charm which the mind can lend only to its
+cherished offspring.
+
+Considered as a thing of literature, no other sort of book admits of
+such variety of topics, style, and treatment as the novel. As diverse
+in talent and quality as the story-teller himself,--now harlequin, now
+gossip, now threnodist,--with weird ghostliness, moping melancholy,
+uncouth laughter, or gentle serious smile,--now relating the story, with
+childlike interest in it, now with a good heart and now with a bad heart
+ridiculing mankind, now allegorical with rich meanings, now freighting
+the little story-cricket that creeps along from page to page with
+immense loads of science, history, politics, ethics, religion,
+criticism, and prophecy,--always regarded with kindness, always welcomed
+in idleness, always presenting in a simple way some spectacle of
+merriment or grief, as changeful as the seasons or the fashions,--with
+all its odd characteristics, the novel is remarkably popular, and not
+lightly to be esteemed as an element in our social and mental culture.
+
+There is probably no other class of books, with literary pretensions,
+that contain so little thinking, in proportion to their quantity of
+matter, as novels. They can scarcely be called organic productions, for
+they may be written and published in sections, like one of the lowest
+classes of animals, which have no organization, but live equally well in
+parts, and run off in opposite directions when cut in halves. Thoughts
+and books, like living creatures, have their grades, and it is only
+those which stand lowest in respect of intellectuality that admit of
+fractional existence. A finished work of the mind is so delicately
+adjusted and closely related, part to part, that a fracture would be
+fatal. Conceive of Phidias sending off from his studio at Athens his
+statue of Jupiter Olympius in monthly numbers,--despatching now the
+feet, now the legs, now the trunk, in successive pieces, now the
+shoulders, and at last crowning the whole with a head!
+
+The composition of novels must be reckoned, in design at least, one of
+the fine arts, but in fact they belong rather to periodical than to
+immortal literature. They do not submit to severity of treatment, abide
+by no critical laws, but are the gypsies and Bohemians of literature,
+bringing all the savagery of wild genius into the _salons_ of taste.
+Though tolerated, admired, and found to be interesting, they do not
+belong to the system of things, play no substantial part in the serious
+business of life, but, as the world moves on, give place to their
+successors, not having developed any principle, presented any picture,
+or stated any fact, in a way to suggest ideas more than social
+phenomena. They are not permanent, therefore, because finally only
+ideas, and not facts, are generally remembered; the past is known to us
+more, and exclusively as it becomes remote, by the conceptions of poets
+and philosophic historians, the myriads of events which occupied a
+generation being forgotten, and all the pith and meaning of them being
+transmitted in a stanza or a chapter. Poetry never grows old, and
+whatsoever masterpieces of thought always win the admiration of the
+enlightened; but many a novel that has been the lion of a season passes
+at once away, never more to be heard of here. With few exceptions, the
+splendid popularity that greets the best novels fades away in time
+slowly or rapidly. A half-century is a fatal trial for the majority; few
+are revived, and almost none are read, after a century; will anybody
+but the most curious antiquary be interested in them after one or
+two thousand years? Without delaying to give the full rationale of
+exceptions which vex this like every other general remark, it may
+be added briefly that fairy stories are in their nature fantastic
+mythological poems, most proper to the heroic age of childhood, that
+historical romances may be in essence and dignity fantastic histories or
+epics, and that, from whatever point of view, Cervantes remains hardly
+less admirable than Ariosto, or the "Bride of Lammermoor" than the "Lay
+of the Last Minstrel."
+
+In the mental as in the physical world, art, diamonds and gems come by
+long elaboration. A thoughtless man may write perennially, while the
+result of silent meditation and a long tortured soul may be expressed
+in a minute. The work of the former is akin to conversation, one of the
+fugitive pleasures of a day; that of the latter will, perchance, be a
+star in the firmament of the mind. Eugene Sue and Beranger both wished
+to communicate their reflections on society. The former dissipated his
+energies in the _salons_, was wise and amusing over wine, exchanged
+learning and jests, studied the drawing-room as if it were the
+macrocosm, returned to his chamber, put on kid gloves, and from the odds
+and ends of his dishevelled wits wrote at a gallop, without ever looking
+back, his "Mysteres de Paris." The latter lived in an attic year after
+year, contemplated with cheerful anxiety the volatile world of France
+and the perplexed life of man, and elaborated word by word, with
+innumerable revisions, his short songs, which are gems of poetry,
+charming at once the ear and the heart. Novels are perhaps too easily
+written to be of lasting value. An unpremeditated word, in which the
+thoughts of years are exploded, may be one of the most admirable of
+intellectual phenomena, but an unpremeditated volume can only be a
+demonstration of human weakness.
+
+The argument thus far has been in favor of the Muses. Hellenic taste and
+the principles of high art ratify the condemnation passed on the novel
+by the aesthetic goddesses. A wider view, however, will annul the
+sentence, giving in its stead a warning and a lesson. If the prose
+romance be not Hellenic, it is nevertheless humane, and has been in
+honor almost universally throughout the Orient and the Occident. Its
+absence from the classical literature was a marvel and exception, a
+phenomenon of the clearest-minded and most active of races, who thought,
+but did not contemplate,--whose ideal world consisted only of simple,
+but stately legends of bright-limbed gods and heroes. A felicitous
+production of high art, also, is among the rarest of exceptions, and
+will be till the Millennium. Myriads of comparative failures follow in
+the suite of a masterpiece. We have, therefore, judged the novel by an
+impracticable standard, by a comparison with the highest aims rather
+than the usual attainments of other branches of literary art. Human
+weakness makes poetry, philosophy, and history imperfect in execution,
+though they aspire to absolute beauty and truth; human weakness
+suggested the novel, which is imperfect in design, written as an
+amusement and relief, in despair of sounding the universe. A novel is in
+its nature and as a matter of necessity an artistic failure; it
+pretends to nothing higher; but under the slack laws which govern its
+composition, multitudes of fine and suggestive characters, incidents,
+and sayings may be smuggled into it, contrary to all the usages and
+rules of civilized literature. Hence the secret of its popularity,
+that it is the organ of average as distinguished from highest thought.
+Science and art are the goals of destiny, but rarely is there a
+thinker or writer who has an eye single to them. It is an heroic,
+self-sacrificing, and small platoon which in every age brunts Fate, and,
+fighting on the shadowy frontier, makes conquests from the realm of
+darkness. Their ideas are passed back from hand to hand, and become
+known in fragments and potent as tendencies among the mass of the race,
+who live in the circle of the attained and travel in the routine of
+ages. The novelist is one of the number who half comprehend them, and
+borrows them from all quarters to introduce into the rich _melange_ of
+his work. To solve a social problem, to reproduce an historical age or
+character, or to develop the truth and poetry latent in any event, is
+difficult, and not many will either lead or follow a severe attempt;
+but the novelist will merrily chronicle his story and link with it in a
+thousand ways some salient reminiscences of life and thought.
+
+What, then, is the highest excellence that the novel can attain? It is
+the carnival of literary art. It deals sympathetically and humorously,
+not philosophically and strictly, with the panorama and the principles
+of life. A transcript, but not a transfiguration of Nature, it assumes a
+thousand forms, surpassing all other books in the immense latitude left
+to the writer, in the wild variety of things which it may touch, but
+need not grasp. Its elements are the forests, the cities, and the seven
+ages of man,--characters and fortunes how diversified! All species
+of thinkers and actors, of ideas and passions, all the labyrinthine
+complications and scenery of existence, may be illustrated in persons or
+introduced by-the-by; into whatever colors make up the phantasmagoria
+of collective humanity the novelist may dip his brush, in painting
+his moving picture. Yet problems need not be fully appreciated, nor
+characters or actions profoundly understood. It must be an engrossing
+story, but the theme and treatment are as lawless as the conversation of
+an evening party. The mind plays through all the realm of its knowledge
+and experience, and sheds sparks from all the torches of thought, as
+scenes and topics succeed each other. The pure forms of literature may
+be reminiscences present to the imagination, the germs of new truths and
+social arrangements may occupy the reason; but the novelist is neither
+practical, nor philosophical, nor artistic; he is simply in a dream; and
+pictures of the world and fragments of old ideas pass before him, as the
+sacred meanings of religion flitted about the populace in a grotesque
+mediaeval festival of the Church. Conceive the stars dropped from their
+place in the apparent heavens, and playing at shuttlecock with each
+other and with boys, and having a heyday of careless joyousness here
+below, instead of remaining in sublime dignity to guide and inspire men
+who look up to them by night! Even such are the epic, the lyric, the
+drama, the history, and the philosophy, as collected together in the
+revelries of the novel. To state the degree of excellence possible to
+a style as perverse as it is entertaining, to measure the wisdom of
+essential folly, is difficult; and yet it may be said that the strength
+of the novel is in its lawlessness, which leaves the author of genius
+free to introduce his creations just as they occur to him, and the
+author of talent free to range through all books and all time and
+reproduce brilliant sayings and odd characters,--which, with no other
+connecting thread than a story, freaks like a spirit through every
+shade of feeling and region of thought, from the domestic hearth to the
+ultimate bounds of speculative inquiry,--and which, by its daring
+and careless combinations of incongruous elements, exhibits a free
+embodiment in prose of the peculiar genius of the romantic.
+
+And some philosophers have styled romance the special glory of
+Christianity. It is certainly the characteristic of critical as
+distinguished from organic periods,--of the mind acting mystically in
+a savage and unknown universe, rather than of the mind that has reduced
+the heavens and earth to its arts and sciences. The novel, therefore,
+as the wildest organ of romance, is most appropriate to a time of great
+intellectual agitation, when intellectual men are but half-conscious of
+the tendencies that are setting about them, and consequently cease to
+propose to themselves final goals, do not attempt scrupulous art, but
+play jubilantly with current facts. Hence, perhaps, its popularity since
+the first conflicts of the Protestant Reformation, and especially since
+the great French Revolution, when amid new inventions and new ideas
+mankind has contemplatively looked for the coming events, the new
+historical eras, which were casting their shadows before.
+
+When, some time, Christian art shall become classical, and Christian
+ideas be developed by superior men as fairly as the Hellenic conceptions
+were, the novel may either assume to itself some peculiar excellency, or
+may cease to hold the comparative rank in literature which it enjoys at
+present. Then the numberless prose romances which occupy the present
+generation of readers will, perhaps, be collected in some immense
+_corpus_, like the Byzantine historians, will be reckoned among the
+curiosities of literature, and will at least have the merit of making
+the study of antiquities easy and interesting. There is an old
+couplet,--
+
+ Of all those arts in which the wise excel,
+ Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.
+
+At a time when extemporaneous composition and thoughtless reading are
+much in fashion, it will not be amiss to invoke profounder studies, and
+slower, but more useful and permanent results. Let it be remembered that
+even the Divine Mind first called into being the chaos of creation, and
+then in seven days reviewed and elaborated it into a beautiful order.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+A LEGEND OF MARYLAND.
+
+"AN OWRE TRUE TALE."
+
+[Concluded.]
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE OLD CITY.
+
+
+Let me now once more shift the scene. In the summer of 1684, the
+peaceful little port of St. Mary's was visited by a phenomenon of rare
+occurrence in those days. A ship of war of the smaller class, with the
+Cross of St. George sparkling on her broad flag, came gliding to an
+anchorage abreast the town. The fort of St. Inigoes gave the customary
+salute, which I have reason to believe was not returned. Not long after
+this, a bluff, swaggering, vulgar captain came on shore. He made no
+visit of respect or business to any member of the Council. He gave no
+report of his character or the purpose of his visit, but strolled to the
+tavern,--I suppose to that kept by Mr. Cordea, who, in addition to his
+calling of keeper of the ordinary, was the most approved shoemaker of
+the city,--and here regaled himself with a potation of strong waters.
+It is likely that he then repaired to Mr. Blakiston's, the King's
+Collector,--a bitter and relentless enemy of the Lord Proprietary,--and
+there may have met Kenelm Chiseldine, John Coode, Colonel Jowles, and
+others noted for their hatred of the Calvert family, and in such company
+as this indulged himself in deriding Lord Baltimore and his government,
+During his stay in the port, his men came on shore, and, imitating their
+captain's unamiable temper, roamed in squads about the town and its
+neighborhood, conducting themselves in a noisy, hectoring manner towards
+the inhabitants, disturbing the repose of the quiet burghers, and
+shocking their ears with ribald abuse of the authorities. These
+roystering sailors--I mention it as a point of historical interest--had
+even the audacity to break into Alderman Garret Van Swearingen's garden,
+and to pluck up and carry away his cabbages and other vegetables,
+and--according to the testimony of Mr. Cordea, whose indignation was the
+more intense from his veneration for the Alderman, and from the fact
+that he made his Worship's shoes--they would have killed one of his
+Worship's sheep, if his (Cordea's) man had not prevented them; and
+after this, as if on purpose more keenly to lacerate his feelings, they
+brought these cabbages to Cordea's house, and there boiled them before
+his eyes,--he being sick and not able to drive them away.
+
+After a few days spent in this manner, the swaggering captain--whose
+name, it was soon bruited about, was Thomas Allen, of his Majesty's
+Navy--went on board of his ketch,--or brig, as we should call it,--the
+Quaker, weighed anchor, and set sail towards the Potomac, and thence
+stood down the Bay upon the coast of Virginia. Every now and then, after
+his departure, there came reports to the Council of insults offered by
+Captain Allen to the skippers of sundry Bay craft and other peaceful
+traders on the Chesapeake; these insults consisting generally in
+wantonly compelling them to heave to and submit to his search, in
+vexatiously detaining them, overhauling their papers, and offending
+them with coarse vituperation of themselves, as well as of the Lord
+Proprietary and his Council.
+
+About a month later the Quaker was observed to enter the Patuxent River,
+and cast anchor just inside of the entrance, near the Calvert County
+shore, and opposite Christopher Rousby's house at Drum Point. This
+was--says my chronicle--on Thursday, the 30th of October, in this year
+1684. As yet Captain Allen had not condescended to make any report of
+his arrival in the Province to any officer of the Proprietary.
+
+On Sunday morning, the 2d of November, the city was thrown into a
+state of violent ebullition--like a little red-hot tea-kettle--by the
+circulation of a rumor that got wind about the hour the burghers were
+preparing to go to church. It was brought from Patuxent late in the
+previous night, and was now whispered from one neighbor to another, and
+soon came to boil with an extraordinary volume of steam. Stripping it
+of the exaggeration natural to such an excitement, the rumor was
+substantially this: That Colonel Talbot, hearing of the arrival of
+Captain Allen in the Patuxent on Thursday, and getting no message or
+report from him, set off on Friday morning, in an angry state of mind,
+and rode over to Patuxent, determined to give the unmannerly captain a
+lesson upon his duty. That as soon as he reached Mattapony House,
+he took his boat and went on board the ketch. That there he found
+Christopher Rousby, the King's Collector, cronying with Captain Allen,
+and upholding him in his disrespect to the government. That Colonel
+Talbot was very sharp upon Rousby, not liking him for old grudges, and
+more moved against him now; and that he spoke his mind both to Captain
+Allen and Christopher Rousby, and so got into a high quarrel with them.
+That when he had said all he desired to say to them, he made a move to
+leave the ketch in his boat, intending to return to Mattapony House; but
+they who were in the cabin prevented him, and would not let him go. That
+thereupon the quarrel broke out afresh, and became more bitter; and it
+being now in the night, and all in a great heat of passion, the parties
+having already come from words to blows, Talbot drew his skean, or
+dagger, and stabbed Rousby to the heart. That nothing was known on
+shore of the affray till Saturday evening, when the body was brought to
+Rousby's house; after which it became known to the neighborhood; and one
+of the men of Major Sewall's plantation, which adjoined Rousby's, having
+thus heard of it, set out and rode that night over to St. Mary's with
+the news, which he gave to the Major before midnight. It was added, that
+Colonel Talbot was now detained on board of the ketch, as a prisoner, by
+Captain Allen.
+
+This was the amount of the dreadful story over which the gossips of St.
+Mary's were shaking their wise heads and discoursing on "crowner's quest
+law" that Sunday morning.
+
+As soon as Major Sewall received these unhappy midnight tidings, he went
+instantly to his colleague, Colonel Darnall, and communicated them to
+him; and they, being warm friends of Talbot's, were very anxious to get
+him out of the custody of this Captain Allen. They therefore, on Sunday
+morning, issued a writ directed to Roger Brooke, the sheriff of Calvert
+County, commanding him to arrest the prisoner and bring him before
+the Council. Their next move was to ride over--the same morning--to
+Patuxent, taking with them Mr. Robert Carvil, and John Llewellin, their
+secretary. Upon reaching the river, all four went on board the ketch
+to learn the particulars of the quarrel. These particulars are not
+preserved in the record; and we have nothing better than our conjectures
+as to what they disclosed. We know nothing specific of the cause or
+character of the quarrel. The visitors found Talbot loaded with irons,
+and Captain Allen in a brutal state of exasperation, swearing that he
+would not surrender his prisoner to the authorities of the Province, but
+would carry him to Virginia and deliver him to the government there, to
+be dealt with as Lord Effingham should direct. He was grossly insulting
+to the two members of the Council who had come on this inquiry; and
+after they had left his vessel, in the pinnace, to return to the shore,
+he affected to believe that they had some concealed force lying in wait
+to seize the pinnace and its crew, and so ordered them back on board,
+but after a short detention thought better of it, and suffered them
+again to depart.
+
+The contumacy of the captain, and the declaration of his purpose to
+carry away Talbot out of the jurisdiction of the Province within which
+the crime was committed, and to deliver him to the Governor of Virginia,
+was a grave assault upon the dignity of the government and a gross
+contempt of the public authorities, which required the notice of the
+Council. A meeting of this body was therefore held on the Patuxent,
+at Rich Neck, on the morning of the 4th of November. I find that five
+members were present on that occasion. Besides Colonel Darnall and Major
+Sewall, there were Counsellor Tailler and Colonels Digges and Burgess.
+Here the matter was debated and ended in a feeble resolve,--that, if
+this Captain Allen should persist in his contumacy and take Talbot to
+Virginia, the Council should immediately demand of Lord Effingham
+his redelivery into this Province. Alas, they could only scold! This
+resolution was all they could oppose to the bullying captain and the
+guns of the troublesome little Quaker.
+
+Allen, after hectoring awhile in this fashion, and raising the wrath of
+the Colonels of the Council until they were red in the cheeks, defiantly
+took his departure, carrying with him his prisoner, in spite of the
+vehement indignation of the liegemen of the Province.
+
+We may imagine the valorous anger of our little metropolis at this
+act or crime of lese-majesty. I can see the group of angry burghers,
+collected on the porch of Cordea's tavern, in a fume as they listen to
+Master John Llewellin's account of what had taken place,--Llewellin
+himself as peppery as his namesake when he made Ancient Pistol eat
+his leek; and I fancy I can hear Alderman Van Swearingen's choleric
+explosion against Lord Effingham, supposing his Lordship should presume
+to slight the order of the Council in respect to Talbot's return.
+
+But these fervors were too violent to last. Christopher Rousby was duly
+deposited under the greensward upon the margin of Harper's Creek, where
+I found him safe, if not sound, more than a hundred and fifty years
+afterwards. The metropolis gradually ceased to boil, and slowly fell
+to its usual temperature of repose, and no more disturbed itself with
+thoughts of the terrible captain. Talbot, upon being transferred to the
+dominion of Virginia, was confined in the jail of Gloucester County, in
+the old town of Gloucester, on the northern bank of York River.
+
+The Council now opened their correspondence with Lord Effingham,
+demanding the surrender of their late colleague. On their part, it was
+marked by a deferential respect, which, it is evident, they did not
+feel, and which seems to denote a timid conviction of the favor of
+Virginia and the disgrace of Maryland in the personal feelings of the
+King. It is manifest they were afraid of giving offence to the lordly
+governor of the neighboring Province. On the part of Lord Effingham, the
+correspondence is cavalier, arrogant, and peremptory.
+
+The Council write deploringly to his Lordship. They "pray"--as they
+phrase it--"in humble, civil, and obliging terms, to have the prisoner
+safely returned to this government." They add,--"Your Excellency's great
+wisdom, prudence, and integrity, as well as neighborly affection and
+kindness for this Province, manifested and expressed, will, we doubt
+not, spare us the labor of straining for arguments to move your
+Excellency's consideration to this our so just and reasonable demand."
+Poor Colonel Darnall, Poor Colonel Digges, and the rest of you Colonels
+and Majors,--to write such whining hypocrisy as this! George Talbot
+would not have written to Lord Effingham in such phrase, if one of you
+had been unlawfully transported to his prison and Talbot were your
+pleader!
+
+The nobleman to whom this servile language was addressed was a hateful
+despot, who stands marked in the history of Virginia for his oppressive
+administration, his arrogance, and his faithlessness.
+
+To give this beseeching letter more significance and the flattery it
+contained more point, it was committed to the charge of two gentlemen
+who were commissioned to deliver it in person to his Lordship. These
+were Mr. Clement Hill and Mr. Anthony Underwood.
+
+Effingham's answer was cool, short, and admonitory. The essence of it
+is in these words:--"We do not think it warrantable to comply with your
+desires, but shall detain Talbot prisoner until his Majesty's particular
+commands be known therein." A postscript is added of this import:--"I
+recommend to your consideration, that you take care, as far as in you
+lies, that, in the matter of the Customs, his Majesty receive no further
+detriment by this unfortunate accident."
+
+One almost rejoices to read such an answer to the fulsome language which
+drew it out. This correspondence runs through several such epistles. The
+Council complain of the rudeness and coarse behavior of Captain Allen,
+and particularly of his traducing Lord Baltimore's government and
+attempting to excite the people against it. Lord Effingham professes to
+disbelieve such charges against "an officer who has so long served his
+King with fidelity, and who could not but know what was due to his
+superiors."
+
+Occasionally this same faithful officer, Captain Allen himself,
+reappears upon the stage. We catch him at a gentleman's house in
+Virginia, boasting over his cups--for he seems to have paid habitual
+tribute to a bowl of punch--that he will break up the government of
+Maryland, and annex this poor little Province of ours to Virginia: a
+fact worth notice just now, as it makes it clear that annexation is not
+the new idea of the Nineteenth Century, but lived in very muddy brains
+a long time ago. I now quit this correspondence to look after a bit of
+romance in a secret adventure.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+A PLOT.
+
+
+We must return to the Manor of New Connaught upon the Elk River.
+
+There we shall find a sorrowful household. The Lord of the Manor is in
+captivity; his people are dejected with a presentiment that they are to
+see him no more; his wife is lamenting with her children, and counting
+the weary days of his imprisonment.
+
+ "His hounds they all run masterless,
+ His hawks they flee from tree to tree."
+
+Everything in the hospitable woodland home is changed. November,
+December, January had passed by since Talbot was lodged in the
+Gloucester prison, and still no hope dawned upon the afflicted lady. The
+forest around her bowled with the rush of the winter wind, but neither
+the wilderness nor the winter was so desolate as her own heart. The fate
+of her husband was in the hands of his enemies. She trembled at the
+thought of his being forced to a trial for his life in Virginia, where
+he would be deprived of that friendly sympathy so necessary even to the
+vindication of innocence, and where he ran the risk of being condemned
+without defence, upon the testimony of exasperated opponents.
+
+But she was a strong-hearted and resolute woman, and would not despair.
+She had many friends around her,--friends devoted to her husband and
+herself. Amongst these was Phelim Murray, a cornet of cavalry under the
+command of Talbot,--a brave, reckless, true-hearted comrade, who had
+often shared the hospitality, the adventurous service, and the sports of
+his commander.
+
+To Murray I attribute the planning of the enterprise I am now about
+to relate. He had determined to rescue his chief from his prison in
+Virginia. His scheme required the cooeperation of Mrs. Talbot and one of
+her youngest children,--the pet boy, perhaps, of the family, some two
+or three years old,--I imagine, the special favorite of the father. The
+adventure was a bold one, involving many hardships and perils. Towards
+the end of January, the lady, accompanied by her boy with his nurse, and
+attended by two Irish men-servants, repaired to St. Mary's, where she
+was doubtless received as a guest in the mansion of the Proprietary, now
+the residence of young Benedict Leonard and those of the family who had
+not accompanied Lord Baltimore to England.
+
+Whilst Mrs. Talbot tarried here, the Cornet was busy in his
+preparations. He had brought the Colonel's shallop from Elk River to the
+Patuxent, and was here concerting a plan to put the little vessel under
+the command of some ostensible owner who might appear in the character
+of its master to any over-curious or inopportune questioner. He had
+found a man exactly to his hand in a certain Roger Skreene, whose name
+might almost be thought to be adopted for the occasion and to express
+the part he had to act. He was what we may call the sloop's husband, but
+was bound to do whatever Murray commanded, to ask no questions, and
+to be profoundly ignorant of the real objects of the expedition.
+This pliant auxiliary had, like many thrifty--or more probably
+thriftless--persons of that time, a double occupation. He was amphibious
+in his habits, and lived equally on land and water. At home he was a
+tailor, and abroad a seaman, frequently plying his craft as a skipper
+on the Bay, and sufficiently known in the latter vocation to render his
+present employment a matter to excite no suspicious remark. It will
+be perceived in the course of his present adventure that he was quite
+innocent of any avowed complicity in the design which he was assisting.
+
+Murray had a stout companion with him, a good friend to Talbot, probably
+one of the familiar frequenters of the Manor House of New Connaught,--a
+bold fellow, with a hand and a heart both ready for any perilous
+service. He may have been a comrade of the Cornet's in his troop. His
+name was Hugh Riley,--a name that has been traditionally connected with
+dare-devil exploits ever since the days of Dermot McMorrogh. There have
+been, I believe, but few hard fights in the world, to which Irishmen
+have had anything to say, without a Hugh Riley somewhere in the thickest
+part of them.
+
+The preparations being now complete, Murray anchored his shallop near a
+convenient landing,--perhaps within the Mattapony Creek.
+
+In the dead of winter, about the 30th of January, 1685, Mrs. Talbot,
+with her servants, her child, and nurse, set forth from the Proprietary
+residence in St. Mary's, to journey over to the Patuxent,--a cold, bleak
+ride of fifteen miles. The party were all on horseback: the young boy,
+perhaps, wrapped in thick coverings, nestling in the arms of one of the
+men: Mrs. Talbot braving the sharp wind in hood and cloak, and warmed
+by her own warm heart, which beat with a courageous pulse against the
+fierce blasts that swept and roared across her path. Such a cavalcade,
+of course, could not depart from St. Mary's without observation at any
+season; but at this time of the year so unusual a sight drew every
+inhabitant to the windows, and set in motion a current of gossip that
+bore away all other topics from every fireside. The gentlemen of the
+Council, too, doubtless had frequent conference with the unhappy wife of
+their colleague, during her sojourn in the Government House, and perhaps
+secretly counselled with her on her adventure. Whatever outward or
+seeming pretext may have been adopted for this movement, we can hardly
+suppose that many friends of the Proprietary were ignorant of its
+object. We have, indeed, evidence that the enemies of the Proprietary
+charged the Council with a direct connivance in the scheme of Talbot's
+escape, and made it a subject of complaint against Lord Baltimore that
+he afterwards approved of it.
+
+Upon her arrival at the Patuxent, Mrs. Talbot went immediately on board
+of the sloop, with her attendants. There she found the friendly cornet
+and his comrade, Hugh Riley, on the alert to distinguish their loyalty
+in her cause. The amphibious Master Skreene was now at the head of a
+picked crew,--the whole party consisting of five stout men, with the
+lady, her child, and nurse. All the men but Skreene were sons of the
+Emerald Isle,--of a race whose historical boast is the faithfulness of
+their devotion to a friend in need and their chivalrous courtesy to
+woman, but still more their generous and gallant championship of woman
+in distress. On this occasion this national sentiment was enhanced when
+it was called into exercise in behalf of the sorrowful lady of the chief
+of their border settlements.
+
+They set sail from the Patuxent on Saturday, the 31st of January. On
+Wednesday, the fifth day afterwards, they landed on the southern bank of
+the Rappahannock, at the house of Mr. Ralph Wormeley, near the mouth of
+the river. This long voyage of five days over so short a distance would
+seem to indicate that they departed from the common track of navigation
+to avoid notice.
+
+The next morning Mr. Wormeley furnished them horses and a servant, and
+Mrs. Talbot, with the nurse and child, under the conduct of Cornet
+Murray, set out for Gloucester,--a distance of some twenty miles. The
+day following,--that is, on Friday,--the servant returned with the
+horses, having left the party behind. Saturday passed and part of
+Sunday, when, in the evening, Mrs. Talbot and the Cornet reappeared at
+Mr. Wormeley's. The child and nurse had been left behind; and this was
+accounted for by Mrs. Talbot's saying she had left the child with his
+father, to remain with him until she should return to Virginia. I infer
+that the child was introduced into this adventure to give some seeming
+to the visit which might lull suspicion and procure easier access to the
+prisoner; and the leaving of him in Gloucester proves that Mrs. Talbot
+had friends, and probably confederates there, to whose care he was
+committed.
+
+As soon as the party had left the shallop, upon their first arrival at
+Mr. Wormeley's, the wily Master Skreene discovered that he had business
+at a landing farther up the river; and thither he straightway took his
+vessel,--Wormeley's being altogether too suspicious a place for him to
+frequent. And now, when Mrs. Talbot had returned to Wormeley's, Roger's
+business above, of course, was finished, and he dropped down again
+opposite the house on Monday evening; and the next morning took the
+Cornet and the lady on board. Having done this, he drew out into the
+river. This brings us to Tuesday, the 10th of February.
+
+As soon as Mrs. Talbot was once more embarked in the shallop, Murray and
+Riley (I give Master Skreene's own account of the facts, as I find it in
+his testimony subsequently taken before the Council) made a pretext to
+go on shore, taking one of the men with them. They were going to look
+for a cousin of this man,--so they told Skreene,--and besides that,
+intended to go to a tavern to buy a bottle of rum: all of which Skreene
+gives the Council to understand he verily believed to be the real object
+of their visit.
+
+The truth was, that, as soon as Murray and Riley and their companion had
+reached the shore, they mounted on horseback and galloped away in the
+direction of Gloucester prison. From the moment they disappeared on this
+gallop until their return, we have no account of what they did. Roger
+Skreene's testimony before the Council is virtuously silent on this
+point.
+
+After this party was gone, Mrs. Talbot herself took command, and, with a
+view to more privacy, ordered Roger to anchor near the opposite shore of
+the river, taking advantage of the concealment afforded by a small inlet
+on the northern side. Skreene says he did this at her request, because
+she expressed a wish to taste some of the oysters from that side of the
+river, which he, with his usual facility, believed to be the only reason
+for getting into this unobserved harbor; and, merely to gratify this
+wish, he did as she desired.
+
+The day went by slowly to the lady on the water. Cold February, a little
+sloop, and the bleak roadstead at the mouth of the Rappahannock brought
+but few comforts to the anxious wife, who sat muffled upon that unstable
+deck, watching the opposite shore, whilst the ceaseless plash of the
+waves breaking upon her ear numbered the minutes that marked the weary
+hours, and the hours that marked the still more weary day. She watched
+for the party who had galloped into the sombre pine-forest that
+sheltered the road leading to Gloucester, and for the arrival of that
+cousin of whom Murray spoke to Master Skreene.
+
+But if the time dragged heavily with her, it flew with the Cornet and
+his companions. We cannot tell when the twenty miles to Gloucester were
+thrown behind them, but we know that the whole forty miles of going and
+coming were accomplished by sunrise the next morning. For the deposition
+tells us that Roger Skreene had become very impatient at the absence of
+his passengers,--at least, so he swears to the Council; and he began to
+think, just after the sun was up, that, as they had not returned, they
+must have got into a revel at the tavern, and forgotten themselves;
+which careless demeanor of theirs made him think of recrossing the river
+and of going ashore to beat them up; when, lo! all of a sudden, he spied
+a boat coming round the point within which he lay. And here arises a
+pleasant little dramatic scene, of some interest to our story.
+
+Mrs. Talbot had been up at the dawn, and watched upon the deck,
+straining her sight, until she could see no more for tears; and at
+length, unable to endure her emotion longer, had withdrawn to the cabin.
+Presently Skreene came hurrying down to tell her that the boat was
+coming,--and, what surprised him, there were _four_ persons in it. "Who
+is this fourth man?" he asked her,--with his habitual simplicity, "and
+how are we to get him back to the shore again?"--a very natural question
+for Roger to ask, after all that had passed in his presence! Mrs. Talbot
+sprang to her feet,--her eyes sparkling, as she exclaimed, with a cheery
+voice, "Oh, his cousin has come!"--and immediately ran upon the deck
+to await the approaching party. There were pleasant smiling faces all
+around, as the four men came over the sloop's side; and although the
+testimony is silent as to the fact, there might have been some little
+kissing on the occasion. The new-comer was in a rough dress, and had the
+exterior of a servant; and our skipper says in his testimony, that "Mrs.
+Talbot spoke to him in the Irish language": very volubly, I have no
+doubt, and that much was said that was never translated. When they
+came to a pause in this conversation, she told Skreene, by way of
+interpretation, "he need not be uneasy about the stranger's going on
+shore, nor delay any longer, as this person had made up his mind to go
+with them to Maryland."
+
+So the boat was made fast, the anchor was weighed, the sails were set,
+and the little sloop bent to the breeze and kissed the wave, as she
+rounded the headland and stood up the Bay, with Colonel George Talbot
+encircling with his arm his faithful wife, and with the gallant Cornet
+Murray sitting at his side.
+
+They had now an additional reason for caution against search. So Murray
+ordered the skipper to shape his course over to the eastern shore, and
+to keep in between the islands and the main. This is a broad circuit
+outside of their course; but Roger is promised a reward by Mrs. Talbot,
+to compensate him for his loss of time; and the skipper is very willing.
+They had fetched a compass, as the Scripture phrase is, to the shore of
+Dorset County, and steered inside of Hooper's Island, into the month of
+Hungary River. Here it was part of the scheme to dismiss the faithful
+Roger from further service. With this view they landed on the island and
+went to Mr. Hooper's house, where they procured a supply of provisions,
+and immediately afterwards reembarked,--having clean forgotten Roger,
+until they were once more under full sail up the Bay, and too far
+advanced to turn back!
+
+The deserted skipper bore his disappointment like a Christian; and being
+asked, on Hungary River, by a friend who met him there, and who gave his
+testimony before the Council, "What brought him there?" he replied, "He
+had been left on the island by Madam Talbot." And to another, "Where
+Madam Talbot was?" he answered, "She had gone up the Bay to her own
+house." Then, to a third question, "How he expected his pay?" he said,
+"He was to have it of Colonel Darnall and Major Sewall; and that Madam
+Talbot had promised him a hogshead of tobacco extra, for putting ashore
+at Hooper's Island." The last question was, "What news of Talbot?" and
+Roger's answer, "He had not been within twenty miles of him; neither did
+he know anything about the Colonel" !! But, on further discourse, he let
+fall, that "he knew the Colonel never would come to a trial,"--"that
+_he_ knew this; but neither man, woman, nor child should know it, but
+those who knew it already."
+
+So Colonel George Talbot is out of the hands of the proud Lord
+Effingham, and up the Bay with his wife and friends; and is buffeting
+the wintry head-winds in a long voyage to the Elk River, which, in due
+time, he reaches in safety.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+TROUBLES IN COUNCIL.
+
+
+Let us now turn back to see what is doing at St. Mary's.
+
+On the 17th of February comes to the Council a letter from Lord
+Effingham. It has the superscription, "These, with the greatest care and
+speed." It is dated on the 11th of February from Poropotanck, an Indian
+point on the York River above Gloucester, and memorable as being in the
+neighborhood of the spot where, some sixty years before these events,
+Pocahontas saved the life of that mirror of chivalry, Captain John
+Smith.
+
+The letter brings information "that last night [the 10th of February]
+Colonel Talbot escaped out of prison,"--a subsequent letter says, "by
+the corruption of his guard,"--and it is full of admonition, which has
+very much the tone of command, urging all strenuous efforts to recapture
+him, and particularly recommending a proclamation of "hue and cry."
+
+And now, for a month, there is a great parade in Maryland of
+proclamation, and hue and cry, and orders to sheriffs and county
+colonels to keep a sharp look-out everywhere for Talbot. But no person
+in the Province seems to be anxious to catch him, except Mr. Nehemiah
+Blakiston, the Collector, and a few others, who seem to have been
+ministering to Lord Effingham's spleen against the Council for not
+capturing him. His Lordship writes several letters of complaint at the
+delay and ill success of this pursuit, and some of them in no measured
+terms of courtesy. "I admire," he says in one of these, "at any slow
+proceedings in service wherein his Majesty is so concerned, and hope you
+will take off all occasions of future trouble, both unto me and you,
+of this nature, by manifesting yourselves zealous for his Majesty's
+service." They answer, that all imaginable care for the apprehending
+of Talbot has been taken by issuing proclamations, etc.,--but all have
+proved ineffectual, because Talbot upon all occasions flies and
+takes refuge "in the remotest parts of the woods and deserts of this
+Province."
+
+At this point we get some traces of Talbot. There is a deposition of
+Robert Kemble of Cecil County, and some other papers, that give us a few
+particulars by which I am enabled to construct my narrative.
+
+Colonel Talbot got to his own house about the middle of
+February,--nearly at the same time at which the news of his escape
+reached St. Mary's. He there lay warily watching the coming hue and cry
+for his apprehension. He collected his friends, armed them, and set them
+at watch and ward, at all his outposts. He had a disguise provided, in
+which he occasionally ventured abroad. Kemble met him, on the 19th of
+February, at George Oldfield's, on Elk River; and although the Colonel
+was disguised in a flaxen wig, and in other ways, Kemble says he knew
+him by hearing him cough in the night, in a room adjoining that in which
+Kemble slept. Whilst this witness was at Oldfield's, "Talbot's shallop,"
+he says, "was busking and turning before Oldfield's landing for several
+hours." The roads leading towards Talbot's house were all guarded by his
+friends, and he had a report made to him of every vessel that arrived in
+the river. By way of more permanent concealment, until the storm should
+blow over, he had made preparations to build himself a cabin, somewhere
+in the woods out of the range of the thoroughfares of the district. When
+driven by a pressing emergency which required more than ordinary care
+to prevent his apprehension, he betook himself to the cave on the
+Susquehanna, where, most probably, with a friend or two,--Cornet Murray
+I hope was one of them,--he lay perdu for a few days at a time, and
+then ventured back to speak a word of comfort and encouragement to the
+faithful wife who kept guard at home.
+
+In this disturbed and anxious alternation of concealment and flight
+Talbot passed the winter, until about the 25th of April, when, probably
+upon advice of friends, he voluntarily surrendered himself to the
+Council at St. Mary's, and was committed for trial in the provincial
+Court. The fact of the surrender was communicated to Lord Effingham by
+the Council, with a request that he would send the witnesses to Maryland
+to appear at his trial. Hereupon arose another correspondence with his
+Lordship, which is worthy of a moment's notice. Lord Effingham has lost
+nothing of his arrogance. He says, on the 12th of May, 1685, "I am so
+far from answering your desires, that I do hereby demand Colonel Talbot
+as my prisoner, in the King of England's name, and that you do forthwith
+convey him into Virginia. And to this my demand I expect your ready
+performance and compliance, upon your allegiance to his Majesty."
+
+I am happy to read the answer to this insolent letter, in which it will
+be seen that the spirit of Maryland was waked up on the occasion to its
+proper voice.--It is necessary to say, by way of explanation to one
+point in this answer, that the Governor of Virginia had received the
+news of the accession and proclamation of James the Second, and had not
+communicated it to the Council in Maryland. The Council give an answer
+at their leisure, having waited till the 1st of June, when they write
+to his Lordship, protesting against Virginia's exercising any
+superintendence over Maryland, and peremptorily refusing to deliver
+Talbot. They tell him "that we are desirous and conclude to await his
+Majesty's resolution, [in regard to the prisoner,] which we question not
+will be agreeable to his Lordship's Charter, and, consequently, contrary
+to your expectations. In the mean time we cannot but resent in some
+measure, for we are willing to let you see that we observe, the small
+notice you seem to take of this Government, (contrary to that amicable
+correspondence so often promised, and expected by us,) in not holding us
+worthy to be advised of his Majesty's being proclaimed, without which,
+certainly, we have not been enabled to do our duty in that particular.
+Such advice would have been gratefully received by your Excellency's
+humble servants." Thanks, Colonels Darnall and Digges and you other
+Colonels and Majors, for this plain outspeaking of the old Maryland
+heart against the arrogance of the "Right Honorable Lord Howard, Baron
+of Effingham, Captain General and Chief Governor of his Majesty's Colony
+of Virginia," as he styles himself! I am glad to see this change of
+tone, since that first letter of obsequious submission.
+
+Perhaps this change of tone may have had some connection with the recent
+change on the throne, in which the accession of a Catholic monarch may
+have given new courage to Maryland, and abated somewhat the confidence
+of Virginia. If so, it was but a transitory hope, born to a sad
+disappointment.
+
+The documents afford but little more information.
+
+Lord Baltimore, being in London, appears to have interceded with the
+King for some favor to Talbot, and writes to the Council on the third
+of July, "that it formerly was and still is the King's pleasure, that
+Talbot shall be brought over, in the Quaker Ketch, to England, to
+receive his trial there; and that, in order thereto, his Majesty had
+sent his commands to the Governor of Virginia to deliver him to
+Captain Allen, commander of said ketch, who is to bring him over." The
+Proprietary therefore directs his Council to send the prisoner to the
+Governor of Virginia, "to the end that his Majesty's pleasure may be
+fulfilled."
+
+This letter was received on the 7th of October, 1685, and Talbot was
+accordingly sent, under the charge of Gilbert Clarke and a proper guard,
+to Lord Effingham, who gives Clarke a regular business receipt, as if
+he had brought him a hogshead of tobacco, and appends to it a short
+apologetic explanation of his previous rudeness, which we may receive as
+another proof of his distrust of the favor of the new monarch. "I had
+not been so urgent," he says, "had I not had advices from England, last
+April, of the measures that were taken there concerning him."
+
+After this my chronicle is silent. We have no further tidings of Talbot.
+The only hint for a conjecture is the marginal note of "The Landholder's
+Assistant," got from Chalmers: "He was, I believe," says the note,
+"tried and convicted, and finally pardoned by James the Second." This is
+probably enough. For I suppose him to have been of the same family with
+that Earl of Tyrconnel equally distinguished for his influence with
+James the Second as for his infamous life and character, who held at
+this period unbounded sway at the English Court. I hope, for the honor
+of our hero, that he preserved no family-likeness to that false-hearted,
+brutal, and violent favorite, who is made immortal in Macaulay's pages
+as Lying Dick Talbot. Through his intercession his kinsman may have been
+pardoned, or even never brought to trial.
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+
+This is the end of my story. But, like all stories, it requires that
+some satisfaction should be given to the reader in regard to the
+dramatic proprieties. We have our several heroes to dispose of. Phelim
+Murray and Hugh Riley, who had both been arrested by the Council to
+satisfy public opinion as to their complicity in the plot for the
+escape, were both honorably discharged,--I suppose being found entirely
+innocent! Roger Skreene swore himself black and blue, as the phrase is,
+that he had not the least suspicion of the business in which he was
+engaged; and so he was acquitted! I am also glad to be able to say that
+our gallant Cornet Murray, in the winding-up of this business, was
+promoted by the Council to a captaincy of cavalry, and put in command of
+Christiana Fort and its neighborhood, to keep that formidable Quaker,
+William Penn, at a respectful distance. It would gratify me still more,
+if I could find warrant to add, that the Cornet enjoyed himself, and
+married the lady of his choice, with whom he has, unknown to us, been
+violently in love during these adventures, and that they lived happily
+together for many years. I hope this was so,--although the chronicle
+does not allow one to affirm it,--it being but a proper conclusion to
+such a romance as I have plucked out of our history.
+
+And so I have traced the tradition of the Cave to the end. What I have
+been able to certify furnishes the means of a shrewd estimate of the
+average amount of truth which popular traditions generally contain.
+There is always a fact at the bottom, lying under a superstructure of
+fiction,--truth enough to make the pursuit worth following. Talbot did
+not live in the Cave, but fled there occasionally for concealment. He
+had no hawks with him, but bred them in his own mews on the Elk River.
+The birds seen in after times were some of this stock, and not the
+solitary pair they were supposed to be. I dare say an expert naturalist
+would find many specimens of the same breed now in that region. But let
+us not be too critical on the tradition, which has led us into a quest
+through which I have been able to supply what I hope will be found to be
+a pleasant insight into that little world of action and passion,--with
+its people, its pursuits, and its gossips,--that, more than one hundred
+and seventy years ago, inhabited the beautiful banks of St. Mary's
+River, and wove the web of our early Maryland history.
+
+
+POSTSCRIPT.
+
+
+I have another link in the chain of Talbot's history, furnished me by a
+friend in Virginia. It comes since I have completed my narrative, and
+very accurately confirms the conjecture of Chalmers, quoted in the note
+of "The Landholder's Assistant." "As for Colonel Talbot, he was conveyed
+for trial to Virginia, from whence he made his escape, and, after being
+retaken, and, _I believe_, tried and convicted, was finally pardoned by
+King James II." This is an extract from the note. It is now ascertained
+that Talbot was not taken to England for trial, as Lord Baltimore, in
+his letter of the 6th of July, 1685, affirmed it was the King's pleasure
+he should be; but that he was tried and convicted in Virginia on the 22d
+of April, 1686, and, on the 26th of the same month, reprieved by order
+of the King; after which we may presume he received a full pardon, and
+perhaps was taken to England in obedience to the royal command, to await
+it there. The conviction and reprieve are recorded in a folio of the
+State Records of Virginia at Richmond, on a mutilated and scarcely
+legible sheet,--a copy of which I present to my reader with all its
+obliterations and broken syllables and sad gashes in the text, for his
+own deciphering. The MS. is in keeping with the whole story, and may be
+looked upon as its appropriate emblem. The story has been brought to
+light by chance, and has been rendered intelligible by close study and
+interpretation of fragmentary and widely separated facts, capable of
+being read only by one conversant with the text of human affairs, and
+who has the patience to grope through the trackless intervals of time,
+and the skill to supply the lost words and syllables of history by
+careful collation with those which are spared. How faithfully this
+accidentally found MS. typifies such a labor, the reader may judge from
+the literal copy of it I now offer to his perusal.
+
+[Transcriber's note: Gaps in the text below are signified with an
+asterisk.]
+
+ By his Excellency
+
+ Whereas his most Sacred Majesty has been Graciously pleased
+ by his Royall Com'ands to Direct and Com'and Me ffrancis
+ Lord Howard of Effingham his Maj'ties Lieut and Gov'r. Gen'll.
+ of Virginia that if George Talbott Esq'r. upon his Tryall should
+ be found Guilty of Killing M'r Christopher Rowsby, that Execution
+ should be suspended untill his Majesties pleasure should
+ be further signified unto Me; And forasmuch as the sd George
+ Talbott was Indicted upon the Statute of Stabbing and hath
+ Received a full and Legall Tryall in open Court on y'e Twentieth
+ and One and Twentieth dayes of this Instant Aprill, before his
+ Majesties Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and found Guilty of y'e
+ aforesaid fact and condemned for the Same, I, therefore, *ffrancis
+ Lord Howard, Baron of *ffingham, his Majesties Lieu't and Gov'r.
+ Gen'll. Of Virginia, by Virtue of *aj'ties Royall Com'ands
+ to Me given there * doe hereby Suspend *tion of the
+ Sentence of death * his Maj'ties Justices
+ * Terminer on the * till his Majesties
+ *erein be * nor any
+ * fail as yo* uttmost
+ * and for y'r soe doing this sh*
+
+ Given under my and * Seale
+
+ the 26th dayof Apri*
+
+ EFFINGHAM
+
+ To his Majesties Justices
+ of Oyer and Terminer.
+
+ Recordatur E Chillon Gen'l Car*
+
+ [Endorsed]
+
+ Talbott's Repreif
+ from L'd Howard
+ 1686 for Killing Ch'r. Rousby
+ Examined Sept. 24th
+ 26th Aprill 1686
+ Sentence of
+ ag'* Col Ta
+ Suspended
+ Aprill 26* 1*86
+
+
+
+
+PRINCE ADEB.
+
+
+ In Sana, oh, in Sana, God, the Lord,
+ Was very kind and merciful to me!
+ Forth from the Desert in my rags I came,
+ Weary and sore of foot. I saw the spires
+ And swelling bubbles of the golden domes
+ Rise through the trees of Sana, and my heart
+ Grew great within me with the strength of God;
+ And I cried out, "Now shall I right myself,--
+ I, Adeb the Despised,--for God is just!"
+ There he who wronged my father dwelt in peace,--
+ My warlike father, who, when gray hairs crept
+ Around his forehead, as on Lebanon
+ The whitening snows of winter, was betrayed
+ To the sly Imam, and his tented wealth
+ Swept from him, 'twixt the roosting of the cock
+ And his first crowing,--in a single night:
+ And I, poor Adeb, sole of all my race,
+ Smeared with my father's and my kinsmen's blood,
+ Fled through the Desert, till one day a tribe
+ Of hungry Bedouins found me in the sand,
+ Half mad with famine, and they took me up,
+ And made a slave of me,--of me, a prince!
+ All was fulfilled at last. I fled from them,
+ In rags and sorrow. Nothing but my heart,
+ Like a strong swimmer, bore me up against
+ The howling sea of my adversity.
+ At length o'er Sana, in the act to swoop,
+ I stood like a young eagle on a crag.
+ The traveller passed me with suspicious fear:
+ I asked for nothing; I was not a thief.
+ The lean dogs snuffed around me: my lank bones,
+ Fed on the berries and the crusted pools,
+ Were a scant morsel. Once, a brown-skinned girl
+ Called me a little from the common path,
+ And gave me figs and barley in a bag.
+ I paid her with a kiss, with nothing more,
+ And she looked glad; for I was beautiful,
+ And virgin as a fountain, and as cold.
+ I stretched her bounty, pecking, like a bird,
+ Her figs and barley, till my strength returned.
+ So when rich Sana lay beneath my eyes,
+ My foot was as the leopard's, and my hand
+ As heavy as the lion's brandished paw;
+ And underneath my burnished skin the veins
+ And stretching muscles played, at every step,
+ In wondrous motion. I was very strong.
+ I looked upon my body, as a bird
+ That bills his feathers ere he takes to flight,--
+ I, watching over Sana. Then I prayed;
+ And on a soft stone, wetted in the brook,
+ Ground my long knife; and then I prayed again.
+ God heard my voice, preparing all for me,
+ As, softly stepping down the hills,
+ I saw the Imam's summer-palace all ablaze
+ In the last flash of sunset. Every fount
+ Was spouting fire, and all the orange-trees
+ Bore blazing coals, and from the marble walls
+ And gilded spires and columns, strangely wrought,
+ Glared the red light, until my eyes were pained
+ With the fierce splendor. Till the night grew thick,
+ I lay within the bushes, next the door,
+ Still as a serpent, as invisible.
+ The guard hung round the portal. Man by man
+ They dropped away, save one lone sentinel,
+ And on his eyes God's finger lightly fell;
+ He slept half standing. Like a summer wind
+ That threads the grove, yet never turns a leaf,
+ I stole from shadow unto shadow forth;
+ Crossed all the marble court-yard, swung the door,
+ Like a soft gust, a little way ajar,--
+ My body's narrow width, no more,--and stood
+ Beneath the cresset in the painted hall.
+ I marvelled at the riches of my foe;
+ I marvelled at God's ways with wicked men.
+ Then I reached forth, and took God's waiting hand:
+ And so He led me over mossy floors,
+ Flowered with the silken summer of Shirar,
+ Straight to the Imam's chamber. At the door
+ Stretched a brawn eunuch, blacker than my eyes:
+ His woolly head lay like the Kaba-stone
+ In Mecca's mosque, as silent and as huge.
+ I stepped across it, with my pointed knife
+ Just missing a full vein along his neck,
+ And, pushing by the curtains, there I was,--
+ I, Adeb the Despised,--upon the spot
+ That, next to heaven, I longed for most of all.
+ I could have shouted for the joy in me.
+ Fierce pangs and flashes of bewildering light
+ Leaped through my brain and danced before my eyes.
+ So loud my heart beat that I feared its sound
+ Would wake the sleeper; and the bubbling blood
+ Choked in my throat, till, weaker than a child,
+ I reeled against a column, and there hung
+ In a blind stupor. Then I prayed again;
+ And, sense by sense, I was made whole once more.
+ I touched myself; I was the same; I knew
+ Myself to be lone Adeb, young and strong,
+ With nothing but a stride of empty air
+ Between me and God's justice. In a sleep,
+ Thick with the fumes of the accursed grape,
+ Sprawled the false Imam. On his shaggy breast,
+ Like a white lily heaving on the tide
+ Of some foul stream, the fairest woman slept
+ These roving eyes have ever looked upon.
+ Almost a child, her bosom barely showed
+ The change beyond her girlhood. All her charms
+ Were budding, but half opened; for I saw
+ Not only beauty wondrous in itself,
+ But possibility of more to be
+ In the full process of her blooming days.
+ I gazed upon her, and my heart grew soft,
+ As a parched pasture with the dew of heaven.
+ While thus I gazed, she smiled, and slowly raised
+ The long curve of her lashes; and we looked
+ Each upon each in wonder, not alarm,--
+ Not eye to eye, but soul to soul, we held
+ Each other for a moment. All her life
+ Seemed centred in the circle of her eyes.
+ She stirred no limb; her long-drawn, equal breath
+ Swelled out and ebbed away beneath her breast,
+ In calm unbroken. Not a sign of fear
+ Touched the faint color on her oval cheek,
+ Or pinched the arches of her tender mouth.
+ She took me for a vision, and she lay
+ With her sleep's smile unaltered, as in doubt
+ Whether real life had stolen into her dreams,
+ Or dreaming stretched into her outer life.
+ I was not graceless to a woman's eyes.
+ The girls of Damar paused to see me pass,
+ I walking in my rags, yet beautiful.
+ One maiden said, "He has a prince's air!"
+ I am a prince; the air was all my own.
+ So thought the lily on the Imam's breast;
+ And lightly as a summer mist, that lifts
+ Before the morning, so she floated up,
+ Without a sound or rustle of a robe,
+ From her coarse pillow, and before me stood
+ With asking eyes. The Imam never moved.
+ A stride and blow were all my need, and they
+ Were wholly in my power. I took her hand,
+ I held a warning finger to my lips,
+ And whispered in her small expectant ear,
+ "Adeb, the son of Akem!" She replied
+ In a low murmur, whose bewildering sound
+ Almost lulled wakeful me to sleep, and sealed
+ The sleeper's lids in tenfold slumber, "Prince,
+ Lord of the Imam's life and of my heart,
+ Take all thou seest,--it is thy right, I know,--
+ But spare the Imam for thy own soul's sake!"
+ Then I arrayed me in a robe of state,
+ Shining with gold and jewels; and I bound
+ In my long turban gems that might have bought
+ The lands 'twixt Babelmandeb and Sahan.
+ I girt about me, with a blazing belt,
+ A scimitar o'er which the sweating smiths
+ In far Damascus hammered for long years,
+ Whose hilt and scabbard shot a trembling light
+ From diamonds and rubies. And she smiled,
+ As piece by piece I put the treasures on,
+ To see me look so fair,--in pride she smiled.
+ I hung long purses at my side. I scooped,
+ From off a table, figs and dates and rice,
+ And bound them to my girdle in a sack.
+ Then over all I flung a snowy cloak,
+ And beckoned to the maiden. So she stole
+ Forth like my shadow, past the sleeping wolf
+ Who wronged my father, o'er the woolly head
+ Of the swart eunuch, down the painted court,
+ And by the sentinel who standing slept.
+ Strongly against the portal, through my rags,--
+ My old, base rags,--and through the maiden's veil,
+ I pressed my knife,--upon the wooden hilt
+ Was "Adeb, son of Akem," carved by me
+ In my long slavehood,--as a passing sign
+ To wait the Imam's waking. Shadows cast
+ From two high-sailing clouds upon the sand
+ Passed not more noiseless than we two, as one,
+ Glided beneath the moonlight, till I smelt
+ The fragrance of the stables. As I slid
+ The wide doors open, with a sudden bound
+ Uprose the startled horses; but they stood
+ Still as the man who in a foreign land
+ Hears his strange language, when my Desert call,
+ As low and plaintive as the nested dove's,
+ Fell on their listening ears. From stall to stall,
+ Feeling the horses with my groping hands,
+ I crept in darkness; and at length I came
+ Upon two sister mares, whose rounded sides,
+ Fine muzzles, and small heads, and pointed ears,
+ And foreheads spreading 'twixt their eyelids wide,
+ Long slender tails, thin manes, and coats of silk,
+ Told me, that, of the hundred steeds there stalled,
+ My hand was on the treasures. O'er and o'er
+ I felt their long joints, and down their legs
+ To the cool hoofs;--no blemish anywhere:
+ These I led forth and saddled. Upon one
+ I set the lily, gathered now for me,--
+ My own, henceforth, forever. So we rode
+ Across the grass, beside the stony path,
+ Until we gained the highway that is lost,
+ Leading from Sana, in the eastern sands:
+ When, with a cry that both the Desert-born
+ Knew without hint from whip or goading spur,
+ We dashed into a gallop. Far behind
+ In sparks and smoke the dusty highway rose;
+ And ever on the maiden's face I saw,
+ When the moon flashed upon it, the strange smile
+ It wore on waking. Once I kissed her mouth,
+ When she grew weary, and her strength returned.
+ All through the night we scoured between the hills:
+ The moon went down behind us, and the stars
+ Dropped after her; but long before I saw
+ A planet blazing straight against our eyes,
+ The road had softened, and the shadowy hills
+ Had flattened out, and I could hear the hiss
+ Of sand spurned backward by the flying mares.--
+ Glory to God! I was at home again!
+ The sun rose on us; far and near I saw
+ The level Desert; sky met sand all round.
+ We paused at midday by a palm-crowned well,
+ And ate and slumbered. Somewhat, too, was said:
+ The words have slipped my memory. That same eve
+ We rode sedately through a Hamoum camp,--
+ I, Adeb, prince amongst them, and my bride.
+ And ever since amongst them I have ridden,
+ A head and shoulders taller than the best;
+ And ever since my days have been of gold,
+ My nights have been of silver.--God is just!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+ELEUSINIA.[a]
+
+[Footnote a: See Number XXIII., September, 1859.]
+
+
+THE SAVIOURS OF GREECE.
+
+Life, in its central idea, is an entire and eternal solitude. Yet each
+individual nature so repeats--and is itself repeated in--every other,
+that there is insured the possibility both of a world-revelation in the
+soul, and of a self-incarnation in the world; so that every man's life,
+like Agrippa's mirror, reflects the universe, and the universe is made
+the embodiment of his life,--is made to beat with a human pulse.
+
+We do all, therefore,--Hindu, Egyptian, Greek, or Saxon,--claim kinship
+both with the earth and the heavens: with the sense of sorrow we kneel
+upon the earth, with the sense of hope we look into the heavens.
+
+The two Presences of the Eleusinia,--the earthly Demeter,[b] the
+embodiment of human sorrow, and the heavenly Dionysus,[c] the
+incarnation of human hope,--these are the two Great Presences of the
+Universe; about whom, as separate centres,--the one of measureless
+wanderings, the other of triumphant rest,--we marshal, both in the
+interpretations of Reason and in the constructions of our Imagination,
+all that is visible or that is invisible,--whatsoever is palpable in
+sense or possible in idea, in the world which is or the world to come.
+Incarnations of the life within us, in its two developments of Sorrow
+and Hope,--they are also the centres through which this life develops
+itself in the world: it is through them that all things have their
+genesis from the human heart, and through them, therefore, that all
+things are unveiled to us.
+
+[Footnote b: Demeter is [Greek Gae-mhaetaer], Mother Earth.]
+
+[Footnote c: The same as Iacchus and the Latin Bacchus.]
+
+But these Two Presences have their highest interest and significance as
+_foci_ of the religious development of the race: and inasmuch as all
+growth is ultimately a religious one, it is in this phase that their
+organic connections with life are widest and most profound. As such they
+appear in the Eleusinia; and in all mythology they furnish the only
+possible key for the interpretation of its mystic symbolism, its
+hieroglyphic records, and its ill-defined traditions.
+
+Accordingly we find that all mythology naturally and inevitably
+flows about these centres into two distinct developments, which are
+indicated,--
+
+1. In Nature; inasmuch as they are first made manifest through symbols
+which point to the two great forces, the _active_ and the _passive_,
+which are concerned in all natural processes (_sol et terra subjacens
+soli_); and,
+
+2. In the primitive belief among all nations, that men are the offspring
+of the earth and the heavens,--and in the worship equally prevalent of
+the sun, the personal Presence of the heavens, as Saviour Lord, and of
+the earth as sorrowing Lady and Mother.
+
+Why the earth, in this primitive symbolism and worship, was represented
+as the Sorrowing One, and the sun as Saviour, is evident at a glance.
+It was the bosom of the earth which was shaken with storm and rent with
+earthquake. She was the Mother, and hers was the travail of all birth;
+in sorrow she forever gathered to herself her Fate-conquered children;
+her sorrowful countenance she veiled in thick mists, and, year after
+year, shrouded herself in wintry desolation: while he was the Eternal
+Father, the Revealer of all things, he drove away the darkness, and in
+his presence the mist became an invisible exhalation; and, as out of
+darkness and death, he called into birth the flowers and the numberless
+forests,--even as he himself was every morning born anew out of
+darkness,--so he called the children of the earth to a glorious rising
+in his light. Everything of the earth was inert, weighing heavily upon
+the sense and the heart, only waiting its transfiguration and exaltation
+through his power, until it should rise into the heavens; which was the
+type of his translation to himself of his grief-oppressed children.
+
+Under these symbols our Lord and Lady have been worshipped by an
+overwhelming majority of the human race. They swayed the ancient world,
+from the Indians by the Ganges, and the Tartar tribes, to the Britons
+and Laplanders of Northwestern Europe,--having their representatives in
+every system of faith,--in the Hindu _Isi and Isana_, the Egyptian _Isis
+and Osiris_, the Assyrian _Venus and Adonis_, the _Demeter and Dionysus_
+of Greece, the Roman _Ceres and Bacchus_, and the _Disa and Frey_ of
+Scandinavia,--in connection with most, if not all, of whom there existed
+festivals corresponding, in respect of their meaning and use, with the
+Grecian Eleusinia.
+
+Moreover, the various divinities of any one mythology--for example, the
+Greek--were at first only representatives of partial attributes or
+incidental functions of these Two Presences. Thus, Jove was the power of
+the heavens, which, of course, centred in the sun; Apollo is admitted
+to have been only another name for the sun; AEsculapius represents his
+healing virtues; Hercules his saving strength; and Prometheus, who gave
+fire to men, as Vulcan, the god of fire, was probably connected with
+Eastern fire-worship, and so in the end with the worship of the sun.
+Some of the goddesses come under the same category,--such as Juno,
+sister and wife of Jove, who shared with him his aerial dynasty; as also
+Diana, who was only the reflection of Apollo,[d] as the moon of the sun,
+carrying his power on into the night, and exercising among women the
+functions which he exercised among men. The representatives of our Lady,
+on the other hand, are such as the ancient Rhea,--Latona, with her dark
+and starry veil,--Tethys, the world-nurse,--and the Artemis of the East,
+or Syrian Mother; to say nothing of Oreads, Dryads, and Nereids, that
+without number peopled the mountains, the forests, and the sea.
+
+[Footnote d: This connection of Diana with Apollo has led some to the
+hasty inference, that the sun and moon--not the sun and earth--were the
+primitive centres of mythological symbolism. But it is plain that the
+sun and moon, as _active _forces referable to a single centre, stood
+over against the earth as _passive._]
+
+The confusion of ancient mythology did not so much regard its subjective
+elements as its external development, and even here is easily accounted
+for by the mingling of tribes and nations, hitherto isolated in their
+growth,--but who, as they came together, in their mutual recognition of
+a common faith under different names and rites, must inevitably have
+introduced disorder into the external symbolism. But even out of this
+confusion we shall find the whole Pantheon organized about two
+central shrines,--those of the _Mater Dolorosa_ and the _Dominus
+Salvator_,--which are represented also in Christendom, though detached
+from natural symbols, in the connection of Christianity with the worship
+of the Virgin.
+
+The Eleusinia, collecting together, as it did, all the prominent
+elements of mythology, furnishes, in its dramatic evolution through
+Demeter and Dionysus, the highest and most complete representation of
+ancient faith in both of its developments. In a former paper, we have
+endeavored to give this drama its deepest interpretation by pointing to
+the human heart as the central source of all its movements. We shall now
+ask our readers to follow us out into these movements themselves,--that,
+as before we saw how the world is centred in each human soul, we may now
+see how each soul develops itself in the world; for thither it is that
+the ever-widening cycles of the Eleusinian epos will inevitably lead us.
+
+And first as an epos of sorrow: though centring in the earthly Demeter,
+yet its movement does not limit itself by the remembrance of _her_ nine
+days' search; but, in the torch-light procession of the fifth night,
+widens indefinitely and mysteriously in the darkness, until it has
+inclosed all hearts within the circuit of its tumultuous flight. Thus,
+by some secret sympathy with her movements, are gathered together
+about the central Achtheia all the _Matres Dolorosoe,_--our Ladies of
+Sorrow;--for, like her, they were all wanderers.
+
+They were so by necessity. All unrest involves loss, and thus leads to
+search. It matters not if the search be unsuccessful; though the gadfly
+sting as sharply the next moment as it did the last, still so must
+continue her wanderings. Therefore that Jew, whose mythic fate it is to
+wait forever upon the earth, the victim of an everlasting sorrow, is
+also an everlasting wanderer. All suffering necessitates movement,--and
+when the suffering is intense, the movement passes over into flight.
+
+Therefore it is that the epos of suffering requires not merely time for
+its accomplishment, but also space. Ulysses, the "much-suffering," is
+also the "much-wandering."
+
+Thus our Lady in the Eleusinian procession of search represents the
+restless search of all her children.
+
+Migrations and colonizations, ancient or modern,--what were they but
+flights from some phase of suffering,--name it as we may,--poverty,
+oppression, or slavery? It was the same suffering Io who brought
+civilization to the banks of the Nile.
+
+Thus, from the very beginnings of history or human tradition, out of
+the severities of Scythian deserts there has been an endless series of
+flights,--nomadic invasions of tribes impelled by no merely barbarian
+impulse, but by some deep sense of suffering, flying from their Northern
+wastes to the happy gardens of the South. In no other way can you
+account for these movements. If you attribute them to ferocity, what
+was it that engendered and nourished _that_? Call them the results of
+a Divine Providence, seeking by a fresher current of life to revive
+systems of civilization which through long ages of luxury have come to
+frailty,--still it was through this severity of discipline alone that
+Providence accomplished its end. Besides, these nomads were fully
+conscious of their bitter lot; and those who fled not in space fled at
+least in their dreams,--waiting for death at last to introduce them to
+inexhaustible hunting-grounds in their happy Elysium.
+
+The very mention of Rome suggests the same continually repeated series
+of antecedent tragedy and consequent wandering,--pointing backward to
+the fabled siege of Troy and the flight of Aeneas,--"_profugus_"
+from Asia to Italy,--and forward to the quick-coming footsteps of the
+Northern _profugi_, who were eager, even this side the grave, to enter
+the Valhalla of their dreams.
+
+It is said that the Phoenician cities sent out colonies from a desire of
+gain, and because they were crowded at home. It is said, too, that,
+in search of gold, thousands upon thousands went to El Dorado, to
+California, and Australia; but who does not know that the greater part
+of these thousands left their homes for reasons which, if fully exposed,
+would reveal a tragedy in view of which gold appears a glittering
+mockery?
+
+The great movement of the race westward is but an extension of this
+epic flight. Thus, the Pilgrim Fathers of New England,--the grandest
+_profugi_ of all time,--or even the bold adventurers of Spain, would
+have been moved only by intense suffering, in some form, to exchange
+their homes for a wilderness.
+
+The world is full of these wanderings, under various pretences of gain,
+adventure, or curiosity, hiding the real impulse of flight. So with the
+strong-flowing current in the streets of a great city; for how else
+shall we interpret this intricate net-work of human feature and
+movement,--this flux of life toward some troubled centre, and then its
+reflux toward some uncertain and undefined circumference?
+
+And as Nature is the mirror of human life, so at the source of those
+vast movements by which she buries in oblivion her own works and the
+works of man there is hidden the type of human suffering, both for the
+race and the individual. And hence it is, that, over against the eternal
+solitude within us, there ever waits without us a second solitude, into
+which, sooner or later, we pass with restless flight,--a solitude
+vast, shadowy, and unfamiliar in its outline, but inevitable in its
+reality,--haunting, bewildering, overshadowing us!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Who is it that shall interpret this intricate evolution of human
+footsteps, in its meaning of sorrow?--who is it that shall give us
+rest?" Such is the half-conscious prayer of all these fugitives,--of
+our Lady and all her children. This it is which gives meaning to the
+torch-light procession on the fifth night of the Festival; but to-morrow
+it shall find an answer in the Saviour Dionysus, who shall change the
+flight of search into the pomp of triumph.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+But let us pause a moment. It is Palm Sunday! We are not, indeed, in
+Syria, the land of palms. Yet, even here,--lost in some far-reaching
+avenue of pines, where one could hardly walk upon a summer Sunday
+without such sense of joy as would move him to tears,--even here all the
+movements of the earth and the heavens hint of most jubilant triumph.
+Thus, the green grass rises above the dead grass at our feet; the
+leaf-buds new-born upon the tree, like lotos-buds springing up from
+Ethiopian marble, give token of resurrection; the trees themselves tower
+heavenward; and in victorious ascension the clouds unite in the vast
+procession, dissolving in exhalation at the "gates of the sun"; while
+from unnumbered choirs arise songs of exultant victory from the hearts
+of men to the throne of God!
+
+But whither, in divine remembrance,--whither is it that upon this Sunday
+of all Sundays the thoughts of Christendom point? Back through eighteen
+hundred years to the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, followed
+by the children crying, "Hosanna in the highest heavens!" Of this it is
+that the processions of Nature, in the resurrections of birth and the
+aerial ascension of clouds,--of this that the upward processions of our
+thoughts are commemorative!
+
+Thus was the sixth day of the Eleusinia,--when the ivy-crowned Dionysus
+was borne in triumph through the mystic entrance of Eleusis, and from
+the Eleusinian plains, as from our choirs to-day, ascended the jubilant
+Hosannas of the countless multitude;--this was the Palm Sunday of
+Greece.
+
+Close upon the chariot-wheels of the Saviour Dionysus followed, in
+the faith of Greece, Aesculapius and Hercules: the former the Divine
+Physician, whose very name was healing, and who had power over death,
+as the child of the Sun; and the latter, who by his saving strength
+delivered the earth from its Augean impurities, and, arrayed in
+celestial panoply, subdued the monsters of the earth, and at last,
+descending to Hades, slew the three-headed Cerberus and took away from
+men much of the fear of death. Such was the train of the Eleusinian
+Dionysus. If Demeter was the wanderer, he was the conqueror and centre
+of all triumph.
+
+And this reminds us of his Indian conquest. What did it mean? Admit that
+it may have been only the fabulous march in triumph of some forgotten
+king of mortal birth to the farthest limits of the East. Still the fact
+of its association with Dionysus stands as evidence of the connection of
+human faith with human victory. Let it be that Dionysus himself was only
+the apotheosis of victorious humanity. In strict logic this is more than
+probable. Yet why apotheosize conquerors at all? Why exalt all heroes to
+the rank of gods?
+
+The reason is, that men are unwilling to draw a limited meaning from any
+human act. How could they, then, connecting, as they did, all victory
+with hope,--how could they fall short of the most exalted hope, of the
+most excellent victory; especially in instances like the one now under
+our notice, where the material circumstances of the conquest as well
+as of the conqueror's life have passed out of remembrance; when for
+generations men have dwelt upon the dim tradition in their thoughts, and
+it has had time to grow into its fullest significance,--even finding
+an elaborate expression in sacred writings, in symbolic ritual, and
+monumental entablature? Osiris, who subjected men to his reign of peace,
+was also held to be the Preserver of their souls. Even Caesar, had he
+lived two thousand years before, might have been worshipped as Saviour.
+All extended power, measured by duration in time or vast areas of space,
+becomes an incarnate Presence in the world, which awes to the dust
+all who resist it, and exalts with its own glory all who trust in it.
+Achtheia mourns all failures; and here it is that the human touches the
+earth. But they who conquer, these are our Saviours; they shall follow
+in the train of Dionysus; they shall lift us to the heavens, and
+sanctify in our remembrance the Sunday of Palms!
+
+But Dionysus not only looks back with triumphant remembrance to ancient
+conquest, but has his victories in the present, also, and in the great
+Hereafter. For triumph was connected with all Dionysiac symbols, hints
+of which are preserved to us in representations found upon ancient
+vases: such, for instance, as the figure of Victory surmounting the
+heads of the ivy-crowned Bacchantes in their mystic orgies; or the
+winged serpents which bear the chariot of the victor-god,--as if in
+this connection even the reptiles, whose very name (_serpentes_) is
+a synonyme for what creeps, are to be made the ministrants of his
+conquering flight. The tombs of the ancients from Egypt to Etruria are
+full of these symbols. Many of them have become dim as to their meaning
+by oblivious time; but enough is evident to indicate the prominence
+of hope in ancient faith. This appears in the very multiplicity of
+Dionysiac symbols as compared with any other class. Thus, out of
+sixty-six vases at Polignano, all but one or two were found to be
+Dionysiac in their symbolism. And this instance stands for many others.
+The _character_ of the scenes represented indicates the same prominence
+of hope, sometimes as connected with the relations of life,--as, for
+example, the representation, found upon a sepulchral cone, of a husband
+and wife uniting with each other in prayer to the Sun. Frequent
+inscriptions--such as those in which the deceased is carefully committed
+to Osiris, the Egyptian Dionysus--point in the same direction; as
+also the genii who presided over the embalmed dead, a belief in whose
+existence surely indicated a hopeful trust in some divine care which
+would not leave them even in the grave. Statues of Osiris are found
+among the ruins of palaces and temples; but it was in the monuments
+associated with death that they dwelt most upon his name and expressed
+their faith in most frequent incarnation and inscription.
+
+The epic movement of Eleusinian triumph was in its range as unlimited
+as the movement of sorrow. Each found expression in sculptured
+monument,--the one hinting of flight into darkness, and the other of
+resurrection into light; each in its cycle inclosed the world; each
+widened into the invisible; as the wail of Achtheia reached the heart of
+Hades, so the paean of Dionysus was lost in the heavens.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+But in what manner did this Dionysus make his _avatar_ in the world? For
+he must needs have first touched the earth as human child, ere he could
+be worshipped as Divine Saviour. Latona must leave the heavens and come
+to Delos ere she can give birth to Apollo; for, in order to slay the
+serpent, the child must himself be earth-born,--indeed, according to one
+representation, he slew the Python out of his mother's arms. Neither the
+serpent of Genesis nor the dragon of Revelation can be conquered save
+by the seed of the woman. From this necessity of his earthly birth,
+the connection of the Saviour-Child with the _Mater Dolorosa_ becomes
+universal,--finding its counterpart in the Assyrian Venus with babe in
+arm, in Isis suckling the child Horus, and even in the Scandinavian Disa
+at Upsal accompanied by an infant. It is from swaddling-clothes, as the
+nursling of our Lady, and out of the sorrowful discipline of earth, that
+the child grows to be the Saviour, both for our Lady and for all her
+children.
+
+Hence, according to the tradition, Dionysus was born of Semele of the
+royal house at Thebes; and Jove was his father. A little before his time
+of birth,--so the story goes,--Jove visited Semele, at her own rash
+request, in all the majesty of his presence, with thunderings and
+lightnings, so that the bower of the virgin mother was laid in ruins,
+and she herself, unable to stand before the revealed god, was consumed
+as by fire. But Jove out of her ashes perfected the birth of his son;
+whence he was called the Child of Fire, ([Greek: puripais],)--which
+epithet, as well as this part of the fable, probably points to his
+connection with the Oriental symbolism of fire in the worship of the
+Sun.
+
+And it is worth while, in connection with this, to notice the gradations
+by which in the ancient mind everything ascended from the gross material
+to a refined spirituality. As in Nature there was forever going on a
+subtilizing process, so that
+
+ "from the root
+ Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves
+ More aery, last the bright consummate flower
+ Spirits odorous breathes,"--
+
+and as, in their philosophy, from the earth, as the principle of Nature,
+they ascended through the more subtile elements of water, air, and fire,
+to a spiritual conception of the universe; so, as regards their
+faith, its highest incarnation was through the symbolism of fire, as
+representative of that central Power under whose influence all things
+arose through endless grades of exaltation to Himself,--so that the
+earthly rose into the heavenly, and all that was human became divine.
+
+The enthusiasm of victory and exaltation in the worship of Dionysus
+tended of course to connect with him whatsoever was joyous and jubilant
+in life. He was the god of all joy. Hence the fable which makes him the
+author and giver of wine to men. Wherever he goes, he is surrounded by
+the clustering vine and ivy, hinting of his summer glory and of his
+kingly crown. Thus, the line of his conquests leads through the richest
+fields of Southern Asia,--through the incense-breathing Arabia, across
+the Euphrates and the Tigris, and through the flowery vales of Cashmere
+to the Indian garden of the world: and as from sea to sea he establishes
+his reign by bloodless victories, he is attended by Fauns and Satyrs and
+the jovial Pan; wine and honey are his gifts; and all the earth is glad
+in his gracious presence. Hence he was ever associated with Oriental
+luxuriance, and was worshipped even among the Greeks with a large
+infusion of Oriental extravagance, though tempered by the more subdued
+mood of the West.
+
+But that depth of Grecian genius, which made it possible for Greece
+alone of all ancient nations to develop tragedy to anything like
+perfection, insured also even in the most impassioned life the most
+profound solemnity. Into the praises of Apollo, joyous as they
+were,--where, to the exultant anthem was joined the evolution of the
+dance beneath the vaulted sky, as if in his very presence,--for the sun
+was his shechinah,--there enters an element of solemnity, which, in
+certain connections, is almost overwhelming: as, for instance, in the
+first book of the "Iliad,"--where, after the pestilence which has sent
+up an endless series of funeral pyres,--after the strife of heroes
+and the return of Chryseis to her father, the priest of the angry
+Apollo,--after the feast and the libation from the wine-crowned cups,
+there follow the _apotropoea_, and the Grecian youths unite in the
+song and the dance, which last, both the joyous paean and the tread of
+exultant feet, until the setting sun. I know of nothing which to
+an equal degree suggests this element of solemnity, that is almost
+awe-inspiring from its depth, short of the jubilant procession of
+saints, in the Apocalypse, with palms in their hands.
+
+This element is also evident in the worship of Dionysus,--so that the
+inspiration of joy must not be taken for the frenzy of intoxication,
+though the symbol of the vine has often led to just this
+misapprehension. Besides, Dionysus must not be too closely identified
+with the Bacchanalian orgies, which were only a perversion of rites
+which retained their original purity in the Eleusinia: and this latter
+institution, it must be remembered, was from the first under the control
+of the state,--and that state at the time the most refined on the face
+of the earth.
+
+Surely, it is not more difficult to give a pure and spiritual
+significance to a vintage-festival or to the symbolic wine-cup of
+Dionysus, than in the rhapsodies of a Persian or Hindu poet to symbolize
+the attraction between the Divine Goodness and the human soul by the
+loves of Laili and Majnum, or of Crishna and Radha,--to say nothing of
+the exalted symbolism attached to the love of Solomon for his Egyptian
+princess, and sanctioned by the most delicate taste.
+
+Indeed, is it not true that whatsoever is most sensuous in connection
+with human joy, and at the same time pure, is the very flower of life,
+and therefore the most consummate revelation of holiness? Nothing in
+Nature is so intensely solemn as her summer, in its infinite fulness of
+growth and the unmeasured altitude of its heavens. And within the range
+of human associations which shall we select as revealing the most
+profound solemnity? Surely not the sight of the funeral train, nor of
+the urn crowned with cypress,--of nothing which is associated with death
+or weakness in any shape;--but the sight of gayest festivals, or the
+paraphernalia of palace-halls,--the vision of some youthful maiden of
+transcendent beauty crowned with an orange-wreath, within hearing of
+marriage-bells and the whisperings of holy love,--or the aspirations of
+the dance and the endless breathings of triumphant music. These are they
+which come up most prominently in remembrance,--even as the whole race,
+in its remembrances, instinctively looks back to the Orient,--to some
+Homeric island of the morning, where are the palaces, the choral dances,
+and the risings of the sun.[e] And as Memory has the power to purify the
+past of all material grossness, Faith has the same power as regards the
+present Hence, the closest connection of religious faith with the
+most joyous festivals, with a finely moulded Venus or Apollo, with an
+Ephesian temple or a splendid cathedral, or the sweetest symphonies of
+music, does not mar, but reveals its natural beauty and strength.
+
+[Footnote e: _Odyssey_, xii., 4.]
+
+But most certainly the Greeks gave a profound spiritual meaning to the
+Eleusinia, as also to the mystic connection of Demeter with Dionysus.
+She gave them bread: but they never forgot that she gave them the bread
+of life. "She gave us," says the ancient Isocrates, "two gifts that are
+the most excellent: fruits, that we might not live like beasts; and that
+initiation, those who have part in which have sweeter hope,--both as
+regards the close of life, and for all eternity." So Dionysus gave them
+wine, not only to lighten the cares of life, but as a token, moreover,
+of efficient deliverance from the fear of death, and of the higher joy
+which he would give them in some happier world. And thus it is, that,
+from the earliest times and in all the world, bread and wine have been
+symbols of sacramental significance.
+
+Human life so elevates all things with its exaltation and clothes them
+with its glory, that nothing vain, nothing trifling, can be found within
+its range. He who opposes himself to a single fact thus of necessity
+opposes himself to the whole onward and upward current, and must fall.
+We have heard of Thor, who with his magic mallet and his two celestial
+comrades went to Joetunheim in quest of adventures: and we remember the
+goblet which he could not exhaust because of its mysterious connection
+with the inexhaustible Sea; the race with Hugi, which in the end proved
+to be a race with Thought; and the wrestle with the old nurse Elli, who
+was no other than Time herself, and therefore irresistible. So do we all
+get us mallets ingeniously forged by the dark elves;--we try a race with
+human thought, and look vainly to come out ahead; we laugh at things
+because they are old, but with which we struggle to no purpose; and the
+cup which we confidently put to our lips has no bottom;--in fact, the
+great world of Joetunheim has grown for so long a time and so widely that
+it is quite too much for us,--and its tall people, though we come down
+upon them, like Thor and his companions, from celestial heights, are too
+stout for our mallet.
+
+Nothing human is so insignificant, but that, if you will give it time
+and room, it will become irresistible. The plays of men become their
+dramas; their holidays change to holy days. The representations, through
+which, under various names, they have repeated to themselves the glory
+and the tragedy of their life,--old festivals once celebrated in Egypt
+far back beyond the dimmest myths of human remembrance,--the mystic
+drama of the Eleusinia, which we have been considering in its
+overwhelming sorrow developed in hurried flight, and its lofty
+hope through triumphal pomp and the significant symbolism of
+resurrection,--the epos and the epic rhapsodies,--the circus and
+the amphitheatre,--and even the impetuous song and dance of painted
+savages,--all these, which at first we may pass by with a glance, have
+for our deeper search a meaning which we can never wholly exhaust. Let
+it be that they have grown from feeble beginnings, they have grown to
+gigantic dimensions; and not their infantile proportions, but their
+fullest growth is to be taken as the measure of their strength,--if,
+indeed, it be not wholly immeasurable.
+
+Upon some day, seemingly by chance, but really having its antecedent
+in the remotest antiquity, a company of men participate in some simple
+act,--of sacrifice, it may be, or of amusement. Now that act will be
+reiterated.
+
+ "Quod semel dictum est stabilisque rerum
+ Terminus servet."
+
+The subtile law of repetition, as regards the human will, is as sure
+in Determination as it is in Consciousness. Habit is as inevitable as
+Memory; and as nothing can be forgotten, but, when once known, is
+known forever,--so nothing is done but will be done again. Lethe and
+Annihilation are only myths upon the earth, which men, though suspicious
+of their eternal falsehood, name to themselves in moments of despair
+and fearful apprehension. The poppy has only a fabled virtue; but, like
+Persephone, we have all tasted of the pomegranate, and must ever to
+Hades and back again; for while death and oblivion only seem to be,
+remembrances and resurrections there must be, and without end. Therefore
+this before-mentioned act of sacrifice or amusement will be reiterated
+at given intervals; about it, as a centre, will be gathered all the
+associations of intense interest in human life; and the names connected
+with its origin--once human names upon the earth--will pass upon the
+stars, so that the _nomina_ shall have changed to _numina_, and be
+taken upon the lips with religious awe. So it was with these old
+festivals,--so with all the representations of human life in stone or
+upon the canvas, in the fairy-tale, the romance, and the poem; at every
+successive repetition, at every fresh resurrection, is evolved by human
+faith and sympathy a deeper significance, until they become the
+centres of national thought and feeling, and men believe in them as in
+revelations from heaven; and even the oracles themselves, in respect of
+their inherent meaning, as also of their origin and authority, rise
+by the same ascending series of repeated birth,--like that at Delphi,
+which, at first attributed to the Earth, then to Themis, daughter of
+Earth and Heaven, was at last connected with the Sun and constituted one
+of the richest gems in Apollo's diadem of light.
+
+In the end we shall find that the whole world organizes about its centre
+of Faith. Thus, under three different religious systems, Jerusalem,
+Delphi, and Mecca were held to be each in its turn the _omphalos_ or
+navel of the world. It follows inevitably that the _main_ movement of
+the world must always be joyous and hopeful. By reason of this joy it is
+that every religious system has its feast; and the sixth day--the day
+of Iacchus--is the great day of the festival. The inscription which
+rises above every other is "To the Saviour Gods."
+
+We must look at history as a succession of triumphs from the beginning;
+and each trophy that is erected outdoes in its magnificence all that
+were ever erected before it. Nothing has suffered defeat, except as it
+has run counter to the main movement of conquest. No system of faith,
+therefore, can by any possibility pass away. Involved it may be in some
+fuller system; its _material_ bases may be modified; its central source
+become more central in the human heart, and so stronger in the world and
+more immediate in its connection with the eternal; but the life itself
+of the system must live forever and grow forever.
+
+Still it is true that in the widest growth there is the largest
+liability to weakness. "Thus it is," says Fouque, "with poor, though
+richly endowed man. All lies within his power so long as action is at
+rest within him; nothing is in his power the moment action has displayed
+itself, even by the lifting-up of a finger on the immeasurable world."
+In the very extent of the empire of an Alexander, a Caesar, or a
+Tamerlane, rests the possibility of its rapid dissolution. At the
+giddiest altitude of triumph it is that the brain grows dizziest
+and there is revealed the deepest chasm of possible defeat; and the
+conqueror,
+
+ "Having his ear full of his airy fame,"
+
+is just then most likely to fall like Herod from his aerial pomp to the
+very dust. This consciousness, revealing at the highest moment of joy
+its utmost frailty, led the ancients to suspect the presence of some Ate
+or Nemesis in all human triumphs. We all remember the king who threw his
+signet-ring into the sea, that he might in his too happy fortunes avert
+this suspected presence; we remember, too, the apprehension of the
+Chorus in the "Seven against Thebes," looking forward from the noontide
+prosperity of the Theban king to some coming catastrophe.
+
+But it is not without us that this Nemesis waits; she is but another
+name for the fearful possibility which lurks in every human will, of
+treachery to itself. And as solemnity rises to its acme in the most
+sensuous manifestation of the glory of life,--so in all that most
+fascinates and bewilders, at the very crisis of victorious exaltation,
+at the very height of joyous sensibility, does this mysterious power
+of temptation reveal her subtlest treachery; and sometimes in a single
+moment does she change the golden-filleted Horae, that are our ministers,
+into frightful furies, which drive us back again from triumph into
+flight.
+
+What was it, then, which saved the Eleusinia from this defeat,--which
+kept the movement of the Dionysiac procession from the ruin inevitably
+consequent upon all intemperate joy? It was the presence of our Lady,
+the sorrowing Achtheia, who was the inseparable companion of the joyous
+conqueror,--who subdued the joy of victory, and preserved the strength
+and holy purity of the great Festival. Demeter was thus necessary to
+Dionysus,--as Dionysus to Demeter; and if in remembrance of him the
+sepulchral walls were covered with scenes associated with festivity,--in
+remembrance of her there must needs be a skeleton at every feast.
+
+How inseparably connected in human thought is sorrow with all permanent
+hope is indicated in the penances which men have imposed upon
+themselves, from the earliest Gymnosophists of India, and the Stylitae of
+Syria, down to the monastic orders of the Romish Church in later times.
+This is the meaning of the old Indian fable which made two of the
+_Rishis_ or penitents to have risen by the discipline of sorrow from
+some low caste,--it may be, from very Pariahs,--first to the rank of
+Brahmins, and at last to the stars. The first initiation in which we
+veil our eyes, losing all, is essential to our fresher birth, by
+which in the second initiation all things are unveiled to us as our
+inheritance: indeed, it is only through that which veils that anything
+is ever revealed or possessed.
+
+Through the same gate we pass both to glory and to tragic suffering,
+each of which heightens and measures the other; and it is only so that
+we can understand the function of sorrow in the Providence of God, or
+interpret the sudden calamities which sometimes overwhelm human hopes at
+their highest aspiration,--which from the most serene and cloudless sky
+evoke storms which leave not even a wreck from their vast ruin.
+
+Nor merely is sorrow efficient in those who hope, but in even a higher
+sense does it attach to the character of Saviour. Apollo is, therefore,
+fabled to have been an exile from heaven and a servant of Admetus;
+indeed, Danaues, in "The Suppliants" of AEschylus, appeals to Apollo for
+protection on this very plea, addressing him as "the Holy One, and
+an exiled God from heaven." Thus Hercules was compelled to serve
+Eurystheus; and his twelve labors were typed in the twelve signs of the
+zodiac. AEsculapius and Prometheus both suffered excruciating tortures
+and death for the good of men. And Dionysus--himself the centre of all
+joy--was persecuted by the Queen of Heaven and compelled to wander in
+the world. Thus he wandered through Egypt, finding no abiding-place, and
+finally, as the story runs, came to the Phrygian Cybele, that he might
+know in their deepest meaning--even by the initiation of sorrow--the
+mysteries of the Great Mother. And, very significantly, it is from this
+same initiation that _His_ wanderings have their end and his world-wide
+conquest its beginning; as if only thus could be realized the
+possibility both of triumph for himself and of hope for his followers.
+For these wanderers can find rest only in a _suffering_ Saviour, by the
+vision of whose deeper Passion they lose their sense of grief,--as Io on
+Caucasus in sight of the transfixed Prometheus, and the Madonna at the
+Cross.
+
+It is worthy of more attention than we can give it here, yet we cannot
+pass over in silence the fact, so important in this relation, that
+Grecian Tragedy, in all its wonderful development under the three great
+masters, was directly associated, and in its ruder beginnings completely
+identified, with the worship of Dionysus. And this confirms our previous
+hint, that the same element which made tragedy possible for Greece must
+also be sought for in the development of its faith. There are those who
+decry Grecian faith,--at the same time that they laud the Grecian drama
+to the skies: but to the Greeks themselves, who certainly knew more than
+we do as regards either, the drama was only an outgrowth of their faith,
+and derived thence its highest significance. Thus the mystic symbolism
+of the dramatic Choruses, taken out of its religious connections,
+becomes an insoluble enigma; and naturally enough; for its first use
+was in religious worship,--though afterwards it became associated with
+traditionary and historic events. Besides, it was supposed that the
+tragedians wrote under a divine inspiration; and the subjects and
+representations which they embodied were for the most part susceptible
+of a deep spiritual interpretation. Indeed, upon a careful examination,
+we shall find that very many of the dramas directly suggest the two
+Eleusinian movements, representing first the flight of suppliants--as
+of the Heraclidae, the daughters of Danaues, and of Oedipus and
+Antigone--from persecution to the shrine of some Saviour Deity,--and
+finally a deliverance effected through sacrifice or divine
+interposition. Examples of this are so numerous that we have no space
+for a minute consideration.
+
+But certainly it is plain that the Eleusinia, as being more central,
+more purely spiritual, must in the thought of Greece have risen high
+above the drama. The very dress in which the _mystae_ were initiated was
+preserved as most sacred or deposited in the temple. Or if we insist
+upon measuring their appreciation of the Festival by the more palpable
+standard of numbers,--the temple at Eleusis, by the account of Strabo,
+was capable of holding even in its mystic cell more persons than the
+theatre. To be sure, the celebration was only once in five years,--but
+it was all the more sacred from this very infrequency. Nothing in all
+Greece--and that is saying very much--could compare with it in its depth
+of divine mystery. If anything could, it would have been the drama; but
+no wailings were ever heard from beneath the masks of the stage like the
+wailings of Achtheia,--no jubilant song of the Chorus ever rose like the
+paean of Dionysiac triumph.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Thus was the name of Dionysus connected with the palace and the temple,
+with the sepulchral court of death and the dramatic representations of
+life,--and everywhere associated with our Lady.
+
+Sometimes, indeed, she seems to overshadow and hide him from our vision.
+Thus was it when the Eumenides in their final triumph swept the stage,
+and victory seemed all in the hands of invisible Powers, with no
+human participant: even as throughout the Homeric epos there runs an
+undercurrent of unutterable sadness; because, while to the Gods there
+ever remains a sure seat upon Olympus, unshaken by the winds, untouched
+by rain or snow, crowned with a cloudless radiance,--yet upon man
+come vanity, sorrow, and strife; like the leaves of the forest he
+flourisheth, and then passeth away to the "weak heads of the dead,"
+([Greek: nekuon amenaena karaena],) conquered by purple Death and strong
+Fate.
+
+To the eye of sense, and in the circumscribed movements of this world,
+the desolation seems complete and the defeat final. But the snows of
+winter are necessary to the blossoms of spring,--the waste of death to
+the resurrection of life; and from the vastest of all desolations does
+our Lady lead her children in the loftiest of all flights,--even from
+all sorrow and solitude,--from the wastes of earth and the desolation of
+AEons, to ineffable joy in her Saviour Lord.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+VICTOR AND JACQUELINE.
+
+I.
+
+
+Jacqueline Gabrie and Elsie Meril could not occupy one room, and remain,
+either of them, indifferent to so much as might be manifested of the
+other's inmost life. They could not emigrate together, peasants from
+Domremy,--Jacqueline so strong, Elsie so fair,--could not labor in the
+same harvest-fields, children of old neighbors, without each being
+concerned in the welfare and affected by the circumstances of the other.
+
+It was near ten o'clock, one evening, when Elsie Meril ran up the
+common stairway, and entered the room in the fourth story where she and
+Jacqueline lodged.
+
+Victor Le Roy, student from Picardy, occupied the room next theirs, and
+was startled from his slumber by the voices of the girls. Elsie was
+fresh from the theatre, from the first play she had ever witnessed; she
+came home excited and delighted, ready to repeat and recite, as long as
+Jacqueline would listen.
+
+And here was Jacqueline.
+
+Early in the evening Elsie had sought her friend with a good deal of
+anxiety. A fellow-lodger and field-laborer had invited her to see the
+play,--and Jacqueline was far down the street, nursing old Antonine
+Dupre. To seek her, thus occupied, on such an errand, Elsie had the good
+taste, and the selfishness, to refrain from doing.
+
+Therefore, after a little deliberation, she had gone to the theatre, and
+there forgot her hard day-labor in the wonders of the stage,--forgot
+Jacqueline, and Antonine, and every care and duty. It was hard for her,
+when all was ended, to come back to compunction and explanation, yet to
+this she had come back.
+
+Neither of the girls was thinking of the student, their neighbor; but
+he was not only wakened by their voices, he amused himself by comparing
+them and their utterances with his preconceived notions of the girls.
+They might not have recognized him in the street, though they had often
+passed him on the stairs; but he certainly could have distinguished the
+pretty face of Elsie, or the strange face of Jacqueline, wherever he
+might meet them.
+
+Elsie ran on with her story, not careful to inquire into the mood of
+Jacqueline,--suspicious of that mood, no doubt,--but at last, made
+breathless by her haste and agitation, she paused, looked anxiously at
+Jacqueline, and finally said,--
+
+"You think I ought not to have gone?"
+
+"Oh, no,--it gave you pleasure."
+
+A pause followed. It was broken at length by Elsie, exclaiming, in a
+voice changed from its former speaking,--
+
+"Jacqueline Gabrie, you are homesick! horribly homesick, Jacqueline!"
+
+"You do not ask for Antonine: yet you know I went to spend the day with
+her," said Jacqueline, very gravely.
+
+"How is Antonine Dupre?" asked Elsie.
+
+"She is dead. I have told you a good many times that she must die. Now,
+she is dead."
+
+"Dead?" repeated Elsie.
+
+"You care as much as if a candle had gone out," said Jacqueline.
+
+"She was as much to me as I to her," was the quick answer. "She never
+liked me. She did not like my mother before me. When you told her my
+name, the day we saw her first, I knew what she thought. So let that go.
+If I could have done her good, though, I would, Jacqueline."
+
+"She has everything she needs,--a great deal more than we have. She is
+very happy, Elsie."
+
+"Am not I? Are not you, in spite of your dreadful look? Your look is
+more terrible than the lady's in the play, just before she killed
+herself. Is that because Antonine is so well off?"
+
+"I wish that I could be where she is," sighed Jacqueline.
+
+"You? You are tired, Jacqueline. You look ill. You will not be fit for
+to-morrow. Come to bed. It is late."
+
+As Jacqueline made no reply to this suggestion, Elsie began to reflect
+upon her words, and to consider wherefore and to whom she had spoken.
+Not quite satisfied with herself could she have been, for at length she
+said in quite another manner,--
+
+"You always said, till now, you wished that you might live a hundred
+years. But it was not because you were afraid to die, you said so,
+Jacqueline."
+
+"I don't know," was the answer,--sadly spoken, "Don't remind me of
+things I have said. I seem to have lost myself."
+
+The voice and the words were effectual, if they were intended as an
+appeal to Elsie. Fain would she now exclude the stage and the play from
+her thoughts,--fain think and feel with Jacqueline, as it had long been
+her habit to do.
+
+Jacqueline, however, was not eager to speak. And Elsie must draw yet
+nearer to her, and make her nearness felt, ere she could hope to receive
+the thought of her friend. By-and-by these words were uttered, solemn,
+slow, and dirge-like:--
+
+"Antonine died just after sundown. I was alone with her. She did not
+think that she would die so soon. I did not. In the morning, John
+Leclerc came in to inquire how she spent the night. He prayed with her.
+And a hymn,--he read a hymn that she seemed to know, for all day she was
+humming it over. I can say some of the lines."
+
+"Say them, Jacqueline," said the softened voice of Elsie.
+
+Slowly, and as one recalls that of which he is uncertain, Jacqueline
+repeated what I copy more entire:--
+
+ "In the midst of life, behold,
+ Death hath girt us round!
+ Whom for help, then, shall we pray?
+ Where shall grace be found?
+ In thee, O Lord, alone!
+ We rue the evil we have done,
+ That thy wrath on us hath drawn.
+ Holy Lord and God!
+ Strong and holy God!
+ Merciful and holy Saviour!
+ Eternal God!
+ Sink us not beneath
+ Bitter pains of endless death!
+ Kyrie, eleison!"
+
+"Then he went away," she continued. "But he did not think it was the
+last time he should speak to Antonine. In the afternoon I thought I saw
+a change, and I wanted to go for somebody. But she said, 'Stay with me.
+I want nothing.' So I sat by her bed. At last she said, 'Come, Lord
+Jesus! come quickly!' and she started up in her bed, as if she saw
+him coming. And as if he were coming nearer, she smiled. That was the
+last,--without a struggle, or as much as a groan."
+
+"No priest there?" asked Elsie.
+
+"No. When I spoke to her about it, she said her priest was Jesus Christ
+the Righteous,--and there was no other,--the High-Priest. She gave me
+her Bible. See how it has been used! 'Search the Scriptures,' she said.
+She told me I was able to learn the truth. 'I loved your mother,' she
+said; 'that is the reason I am so anxious you should know. It is by
+my spirit, said the Lord. Ask for that spirit,' she said. 'He is more
+willing to give than earthly parents are to give good gifts to their
+children.' She said these things, Elsie. If they are true, they must be
+better worth believing than all the riches of the world are worth the
+having."
+
+The interest manifested by the student in this conversation had been on
+the increase since Jacqueline began to speak of Antonine Dupre. It was
+not, at this point of the conversation, waning.
+
+"Your mother would not have agreed with Antonine," said Elsie, as if
+there were weight in the argument;--for such a girl as Jacqueline could
+not speak earnestly in the hearing of a girl like Elsie without result,
+and the result was at this time resistance.
+
+"She believed what she was taught in Domremy," answered Jacqueline, "She
+believed in Absolution, Extreme Unction, in the need of another priest
+than Jesus Christ,--a representative they call it." She spoke slowly, as
+if interrogating each point of her speech.
+
+"I believe as they believed before us," answered Elsie, coldly.
+
+"We have learned many things since we came to Meaux," answered
+Jacqueline, with a patient gentleness, that indicated the perplexity
+and doubt with which the generous spirit was departing from the old
+dominion. She was indeed departing, with that reverence for the past
+which is not incompatible with the highest hope for the future. "Our
+Joan came from Domremy, where she must crown the king," she continued.
+"We have much to learn."
+
+"She lost her life," said Elsie, with vehemence.
+
+"Yes, she did lose her life," Jacqueline quietly acquiesced.
+
+"If she had known what must happen, would she have come?"
+
+"Yes, she would have come."
+
+"How late it is!" said Elsie, as if in sleep were certain rest from
+these vexatious thoughts.
+
+Victor Le Roy was by this time lost in his own reflections. These girls
+had supplied an all-sufficient theme; whether they slept or wakened was
+no affair of his. He had somewhat to argue for himself about extreme
+unction, priestly intervention, confession, absolution,--something to
+say to himself about Leclerc, and the departed Antonine.
+
+Late into the night he sat thinking of the marvel of Domremy and
+of Antonine Dupre, of Picardy and of Meaux, of priests and of the
+High-Priest. Brave and aspiring, Victor Le Roy could not think of
+these things, involved in the names of things above specified, as more
+calculating, prudent spirits might have done. It was his business, as a
+student, to ascertain what powers were working in the world. All true
+characters, of past time or present, must be weighed and measured by
+him. Result was what he aimed at.
+
+Jacqueline's words had not given him new thoughts, but unawares they did
+summon him to his appointed labor. He looked to find the truth. He must
+stand to do his work. He must haste to make his choice. Enthusiastic,
+chivalrous, and strong, he was seeking the divine right, night and
+day,--and to ascertain that, as it seemed, he had come from Picardy to
+Meaux.
+
+Elsie Meril went to bed, as she had invited Jacqueline to do; to sleep,
+to dream, she went,--and to smile, in her dreaming, on the world that
+smiled on her.
+
+Jacqueline sat by the window; leaned from the window, and prayed; her
+own prayer she prayed, as Antonine had said she must, if she would
+discover what she needed, and obtain an answer.
+
+She thought of the dead,--her own. She pondered on the future. She
+recalled some lines of the hymn Antonine had repeated, and she
+wished--oh, how she wished!--that, while the woman lived, and could
+reason and speak, she had told her about the letter she had received
+from the priest of Domremy. Many a time it had been on her lips to tell,
+but she failed in courage to bring her poor affairs into that chamber
+and disturb that dying hour. Now she wished that she had done it. Now
+she felt that speech had been the merest act of justice to herself.
+
+But there was Leclerc, the wool-comber, and his mother; she might rely
+on them for the instruction she needed.
+
+Old Antonine's faith had made a deep impression on the strong-hearted
+and deep-thinking girl; as also had the prayers of John
+Leclerc,--especially that last prayer offered for Antonine. It seemed to
+authenticate, by its strong, unfaltering utterance, the poor old woman's
+evidence. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever,"
+were strong words that seemed about to take possession of the heart of
+Jacqueline.
+
+Therefore, while Elsie slept, she prayed,--looking farther than the
+city-streets, and darkness,--looking farther than the shining stars.
+What she sought, poor girl, stood in her silent chamber, stood in her
+waiting heart. But she knew Him not, and her ear was heavy; she did not
+hear the voice, that she should answer Him, "Rabboni!"
+
+
+II.
+
+
+A fortnight from this night, after the harvesters had left the fields of
+M. Flaval, Jacqueline was lingering in the twilight.
+
+The instant the day's work was done, the laborers set out for Meaux,
+Their haste suggested some unusual cause.
+
+John Leclerc, wool-comber, had received that day his sentence. Report of
+the sentence had spread among the reapers in the field and all along the
+vineyards of the hill-sides. Not a little stir was occasioned by this
+sentence: three days of whipping through the public streets, to conclude
+with branding on the forehead. For this Leclerc, it seemed, had
+profanely and audaciously declared that a man might in his own behalf
+deal with the invisible God, by the mediation of Christ, the sole
+Mediator between God and man. Viewed in the light of his offence, his
+punishment certainly was of the mildest. Tidings of his sentence were
+received with various emotion: by some as though they were maddened
+with new wine; others wept openly; many more were pained at heart; some
+brutally rejoiced; some were incredulous.
+
+But now they were all on their way to Meaux; the fields were quite
+deserted. Urged by one desire, to ascertain the facts of the trial,
+and the time when the sentence would be executed, the laborers were
+returning to the town.
+
+Without demonstration of any emotion, Jacqueline Gabrie, quiet,
+silent, walked along the river-bank, until she came to the clump of
+chestnut-trees, whose shadow fell across the stream. Many a time,
+through the hot, dreadful day, her eyes turned wistfully to this place.
+In the morning Elsie Meril had promised Jacqueline that at twilight they
+would read together here the leaves the poor old mother of Leclerc gave
+Jacqueline last night: when they had read them, they would walk home by
+starlight together. But now the time had come, and Jacqueline was alone.
+Elsie had returned to town with other young harvesters.
+
+"Very well," said Jacqueline, when Elsie told her she must go. It was
+not, indeed, inexplicable that she should prefer the many voices to the
+one,--excitement and company, rather than quiet, dangerous thinking.
+
+But, thus left alone, the face of Jacqueline expressed both sorrow and
+indignation. She would exact nothing of Elsie; but latterly how often
+had she expected of her companion more than she gave or could give!
+
+Of course the young girl was equal to others in pity and surprise; but
+there were people in the world beside the wool-comber and his mother.
+Nothing of vast import was suggested by his sentence to her mind. She
+did not see that spiritual freedom was threatened with destruction. If
+she heard the danger questioned, she could not apprehend it. Though she
+had listened to the preaching of Leclerc and had been moved by it, her
+sense of truth and of justice was not so acute as to lead her willingly
+to incur a risk in the maintaining of the same.
+
+She would not look into Antonine's Bible, which Jacqueline had read so
+much during the last fortnight. She was not the girl to torment herself
+about her soul, when the Church would save it for her by mere compliance
+with a few easy regulations.
+
+More and more was Elsie disappointing Jacqueline. Day by day these girls
+were developing in ways which bade fair to separate them in the end.
+When now they had most need of each other, their estrangement was
+becoming more apparent and decided. The peasant-dress of Elsie would not
+content her always, Jacqueline said sadly to herself.
+
+Jacqueline's tracts, indeed, promised poorly as entertainment for an
+hour of rest;--rest gained by hours of toil. The confusion of tongues
+and the excitement of the city pleased Elsie better. So she went along
+the road to Meaux, and was not talking, neither thinking, all the way,
+of the wrongs of John Leclerc, and the sorrows of his mother,--neither
+meditating constantly, and with deep-seated purpose, "I will not let
+thee go, except thou bless me!"--neither on this problem, agitated then
+in so many earnest minds, "What shall a man give in exchange for his
+soul?"
+
+Thus Jacqueline sat alone and thought that she would read by herself the
+tracts Leclerc had found it good to study. But unopened she held the
+little printed scroll, while she watched the home-returning birds, whose
+nests were in the mighty branches of the chestnut-trees.
+
+She needed the repose more than the teaching, even; for all day the
+sun had fallen heavily on the harvesters,--and toiling with a troubled
+heart, under a burning sun, will leave the laborer not in the best
+condition for such work as Jacqueline believed she had to do.
+
+But she had promised the old woman she would read these tracts, and this
+was her only time, for they must be returned that night: others were
+waiting for them with an eagerness and longing of which, haply,
+tract-dispensers see little now. Still she delayed in opening them. The
+news of Leclerc's sentence had filled her with dismay.
+
+Did she dread to read the truth,--"the truth of Jesus Christ," as
+his mother styled it? The frightful image of the bleeding, lacerated
+wool-comber would come between her and the book in which that faith was
+written for maintaining which this man must suffer. Strange contrast
+between the heavy gloom and terror of her thoughts and the peaceful
+"river flowing on"! How tranquil were the fields that spread beyond
+her sight! But there is no rest or joy in Nature to the agitated and
+foreboding spirit. Must we not have conquered the world, if we serenely
+enter into Nature's rest?
+
+Fain would Jacqueline have turned her face and steps in another
+direction that night than toward the road that led to Meaux: to the
+village on the border of the Vosges,--to the ancient Domremy. Once her
+home was there; but Jacqueline had passed forth from the old, humble,
+true defences: for herself must live and die.
+
+Domremy had a home for her no more. The priest, on whom she had relied
+when all failed her, was still there, it is true; and once she had
+thought, that, while he lived, she was not fatherless, not homeless: but
+his authority had ceased to be paternal, and she trusted him no longer.
+
+She had two graves in the old village, and among the living a few faces
+she never could forget. But on this earth she had no home.
+
+Musing on these dreary facts, and on the bleeding, branded image of
+Leclerc, as her imagination rendered him back to his friends, his
+fearful trial over, a vision more familiar to her childhood than her
+youth opened to Jacqueline.
+
+There was one who used to wander through the woods that bordered the
+mountains in whose shadow stood Domremy,--one whose works had glorified
+her name in the England and the France that made a martyr of her. Jeanne
+d'Arc had ventured all things for the truth's sake: was she, who also
+came forth from that village, by any power commissioned?
+
+Jacqueline laid the tracts on the grass. Over them she placed a stone.
+She bowed her head. She hid her face. She saw no more the river, trees,
+or home-returning birds; heard not the rush of water or of wind,--nor,
+even now, the hurry and the shout; that possibly to-morrow would follow
+the poor wool-comber through the streets of Meaux,--and on the third day
+they would brand him!
+
+She remembered an old cottage in the shadow of the forest-covered
+mountains. She remembered one who died there suddenly, and without
+remedy,--her father, unabsolved and unanointed, dying in fear and
+torment, in a moment when none anticipated death. She remembered a
+strong-hearted woman who seemed to die with him,--who died to all the
+interests of this life, and was buried by her husband ere a twelvemonth
+had passed,--her mother, who was buried by her father's side.
+
+Burdened with a solemn care they left their child. The priest of
+Domremy, and none beside him, knew the weight of this burden. How had he
+helped her bear it? since it is the _business_ of the shepherd to look
+after the younglings of the flock. Her hard earnings paid him for
+the prayers he offered for the deliverance of her father from his
+purgatorial woes. Burdened with a dire debt of filial love, the priest
+had let her depart from Domremy; his influence followed her as an
+oppression and a care,--a degradation also.
+
+Her life of labor was a slavish life. All she did, and all she left
+undone, she looked at with sad-hearted reference to the great object of
+her life. Far away she put all allurement to tempting, youthful joy.
+What had she to do with merriment and jollity, while a sin remained
+unexpiated, or a moment of her father's suffering and sorrow could be
+anticipated?
+
+How, probably, would these new doctrines, held fast by some through
+persecution and danger, these doctrines which brought liberty to light,
+be received by one so fast a prisoner of Hope as she? She had pledged
+herself, with solemn vows had promised, to complete the work her mother
+left unfinished when she died.
+
+Some of the laborers in the field, Elsie among them, had hoped, they
+said, that the wool-comber would retract from his dangerous position.
+Recalling their words, Jacqueline asked herself would she choose to have
+him retract? She reminded herself of the only martyr whose memory she
+loved, the glorious girl from Domremy, and a lofty and stern spirit
+seemed to rouse within her as she answered that question. She believed
+that John had found and taught the truth; and was Truth to be sacrificed
+to Power that hated it? Not by a suicidal act, at least.
+
+She took the tracts, so judging, from underneath the stone, wistfully
+looked them over, and, as she did so, recalled these words: "You cannot
+buy your pardon of a priest; he has no power to sell it; he cannot even
+give it. Ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, upbraiding not.
+'If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how
+much more shall your Heavenly Father give his Holy Spirit to them that
+ask him!'"
+
+She could never forget these words. She could never forget the
+preacher's look when he used them; nor the solemnity of the assenting
+faith, as attested by the countenances of those around her in that
+"upper room."
+
+But her father! What would this faith do for the departed?
+
+Yet again she dared to pray,--here in this solitude, to ask for that
+Holy Spirit, the Enlightener. And it was truly with trembling, in
+the face of all presentiments of what the gift might possibly, must
+certainly, import to her. But what was she, that she could withstand
+God, or His gift, for any fear of the result that might attend the
+giving of the gift?
+
+Divinely she seemed to be inspired with that courageous thought. She
+rose up, as if to follow the laborers who had already gone to Meaux. But
+she had not passed out from the shadow of the great trees when another
+shadow fell along her path.
+
+
+III.
+
+
+It was Victor Le Roy who was so close at hand. He recognized Jacqueline;
+for, as he came down the road, now and then he caught a glimpse of her
+red peasant-dress. And he accepted his persuasion as it had been an
+assurance; for he believed that on such a night no other girl would
+linger alone near the place of her day's labor. Moreover, while passing
+the group of harvesters, he had observed that she was not among them.
+
+The acquaintance of these young persons was but slight; yet it was of
+such a character as must needs increase. Within the last fortnight they
+had met repeatedly in the room of Leclerc's mother. On the last night of
+her son's preaching they had together listened to his words. The young
+student with manly aspirations, ambitious, courageous, inquiring, and
+the peasant girl who toiled in fields and vineyards, were on the same
+day hearkening to the call, "Ho, every one that thirsteth!" with the
+consciousness that the call was meant for them.
+
+When Victor Le Roy saw that Jacqueline perceived and recognized him, he
+also observed the tracts in her hand and the trouble in her countenance,
+and he wondered in his heart whether she could be ignorant of what had
+passed that day at Meaux, and if it could be possible that her manifest
+disturbance arose from any perplexity or disquietude independent of the
+sentence that had been passed on John Leclerc. His first words brought
+an answer that satisfied his doubt.
+
+"She has chosen that good part which shall not be taken from her," said
+he, as he came near. "The country is so fair, could no one of them all
+except Jacqueline see that? Were they all drawn away by the bloody
+fascination of Meaux? even Elsie?"
+
+"It was the news that hurried her home with the rest," answered she,
+almost pleased at this disturbance of the solitude.
+
+"Did that keep you here, Jacqueline?" he asked. "It sent me out of the
+city. The dust choked me. Every face looked like a devil's. To-morrow
+night, to-morrow night, the harvesters will hurry all the faster.
+Terrible curiosity! And if they find traces of his blood along the
+streets, there will be enough to talk about through the rest of the
+harvesting. Jacqueline, if the river could be poured through those
+streets, the sacred blood could never be washed out. 'Tis not the
+indignity, nor the cruelty, I think of most, but the barbarous, wild
+sin. Shall a man's truest liberty be taken from him, as though, indeed,
+he were not a man of God, but the spiritual subject of his fellows? If
+that is their plan, they may light the fires,--there are many who will
+not shrink from sealing their faith with their blood."
+
+These words, spoken with vehemence, were the first free utterance
+Victor Le Roy had given to his feelings all day. All day they had been
+concentrating, and now came from him fiery and fast.
+
+It was time for him to know in whom and in what he believed.
+
+Greatly moved by his words, Jacqueline said, giving him the tracts,--
+
+"I came from Domremy, I am free. No one can be hurt by what befalls me.
+I want to know the truth. I am not afraid. Did John Leclerc never give
+way for a moment? Is he really to be whipped through the streets, and on
+the third day to be branded? Will he not retract?"
+
+"Never!" was the answer,--spoken not without a shudder. "He did not
+flinch through all the trial, Jacqueline. And his old mother says,
+'Blessed be Jesus Christ and his witnesses!'"
+
+"I came from Domremy," seemed to be in the girl's thought again; for
+her eyes flashed when she looked at Victor Le Roy, as though she could
+believe the heavens would open for the enlightening of such believers.
+
+"She gave me those to read," said she, pointing to the tracts she had
+given him.
+
+"And have you been reading them here by yourself?"
+
+"No. Elsie and I were to have read them together; but I fell to
+thinking."
+
+"You mean to wait for her, then?"
+
+"I was afraid I should not make the right sense of them."
+
+"Sit down, Jacqueline, and let me read aloud. I have read them before.
+And I understand them better than Elsie does, or ever will."
+
+"I am afraid that is true, Sir. If you read, I will listen."
+
+But he did not, with this permission, begin instantly.
+
+"You came from Domremy, Jacqueline," said he. "I came from Picardy. My
+home was within a stone's throw of the castle where Jeanne d'Arc was a
+prisoner before they carried her to Rouen. I have often walked about
+that castle and tried to think how it must have been with her when they
+left her there a prisoner. God knows, perhaps we shall all have an
+opportunity of knowing, how she felt when a prisoner of Truth. Like a
+fly in a spider's net she was, poor girl! Only nineteen! She had lived
+a life that was worth the living, Jacqueline. She knew she was about
+to meet the fate her heart must have foretold. Girls do not run such a
+course and then die quietly in their beds. They are attended to their
+rest by grim sentinels, and they light fagots for them. I have read the
+story many a time, when I could look at the window of the very room
+where she was a prisoner. It was strange to think of her witnessing the
+crowning of the King, with the conviction that her work ended there and
+then,--of the women who brought their children to touch her garments or
+her hands, to let her smile on them, or speak to them, or maybe kiss
+them. And the soldiers deemed their swords were stronger when they had
+but touched hers. And they knelt down to kiss her standard, that white
+standard, so often victorious! I have read many a time of that glorious
+day at Rheims."
+
+"And she said, _that_ day,' Oh, why can I not die here?'" said
+Jacqueline, with a low voice.
+
+"And when the Archbishop asked her," continued Victor, "'Where do you,
+then, expect to die?' she answered, 'I know not. I shall die where God
+pleases. I have done what the Lord my God commanded me; and I wish that
+He would now send me to keep my sheep with my mother and sister.'"
+
+"Because she loved Domremy, and her work was done," said Jacqueline,
+sadly. "And so many hated her! But her mother would be sure to love.
+Jeanne would never see an evil eye in Domremy, and no one would lie in
+wait to kill her in the Vosges woods."
+
+"It was such as you, Jacqueline, who believed in her, and comforted her.
+And to every one that consoled her Christ will surely say, 'Ye blessed
+of my Father, ye did it unto me!' Yes, to be sure, there were too many
+who stood ready to kill her in all France,--besides those who were
+afraid of her, and fought against our armies. Even when they were taking
+her to see the Dauphin, the guard would have drowned her, and lied about
+it, but they were restrained. It is something to have been born in
+Domremy,--to have grown up in the very place where she used to play, a
+happy little girl. You have seen that fountain, and heard the bells she
+loved so much. It was good for you, I know."
+
+"Her prayers were everywhere," Jacqueline replied. "Everywhere she heard
+the voices that called her to come and deliver France. But her father
+did not believe in her. He persecuted Jeanne."
+
+"A man's foes are of his own household," said Victor. "You see the same
+thing now. It is the very family of Christ--yes! so they dare call
+it--who are going to tear and rend Leclerc to-morrow for believing the
+words of Christ. A hundred judges settled that Jeanne should be burned;
+and for believing such words as are in these books"--
+
+"Read me those words," said Jacqueline.
+
+So they turned from speaking of Joan and her work, to contemplate
+another style of heroism, and to question their own hearts.
+
+Jacqueline Gabrie had lived through eighteen years of hardship and
+exposure. She was strong, contented, resolute. Left to herself, she
+would probably have suffered no disturbance of her creed,--would have
+lived and died conforming to the letter of its law. But thrown under
+the influence of those who did agitate the subject, she was brave and
+clear-headed. She listened now, while, according to her wish, her
+neighbor read,--listened with clear intelligence, intent on the truth.
+That, or any truth, accepted, she would hardly shrink from whatever it
+involved. This was the reason why she had really feared to ask the Holy
+Ghost's enlightenment! So well she understood herself! Truth was truth,
+and, if received, to be abided by. She could not hold it loosely. She
+could not trifle with it. She was born in Domremy. She had played under
+the Fairy Oak. She knew the woods where Joan wandered when she sought
+her saintly solitude. The fact was acting on her as an inspiration,
+when Domremy became a memory, when she labored far away from the wooded
+Vosges and the meadows of Lorraine.
+
+She listened to the reading, as girls do not always listen when they sit
+in the presence of a reader such as young Le Roy.
+
+And let it here be understood--that the conclusion bring no sorrow, and
+no sense of wrong to those who turn these pages, thinking to find the
+climax dear to half-fledged imagination, incapable from inexperience of
+any deeper truth, (I render them all homage!)--this story is not told
+for any sake but truth's.
+
+This Jacqueline did listen to this Victor, thinking actually of the
+words he read. She looked at him really to ascertain whether her
+apprehension of these things was all the same as his. She questioned
+him, with the simple desire to learn what he could tell her. Her hands
+were very hard, so constant had been her dealing with the rough facts of
+this life; but the hard hand was firm in its clasp, and ready with its
+helpfulness. Her eyes were open, and very clear of dreams. There was
+room in them for tenderness as well as truth. Her voice was not the
+sweetest of all voices in this world; but it had the quality that would
+make it prized by others when heart and flesh were failing; for it would
+be strong to speak then with cheerful faith and an unfaltering courage.
+
+Jacqueline sat there under the chestnut-trees, upon the river-bank,
+strong-hearted, high-hearted, a brave, generous woman. What if her days
+were toilsome? What if her peasant-dress was not the finest woven in the
+looms of Paris or of Meaux? Her prayers were brief, her toil was long,
+her sleep was sound,--her virtue firm as the everlasting mountains.
+Jacqueline, I have singled you from among hordes and tribes and legions
+upon legions of women, one among ten thousand, altogether lovely,--not
+for dalliance, not for idleness, not for dancing, which is well; not for
+song, which is better; not for beauty, which, perhaps, is best; not for
+grace, or power, or passion. There is an attribute of God which is more
+to His universe than all evidence of power. It is His truth. Jacqueline,
+it is for this your name shall shine upon my page.
+
+And, manifestly, it is by virtue of this quality that her reader is
+moved and attracted at this hour of twilight on the river-bank.
+
+Her intelligence is so quick! her apprehension so direct! her
+conclusions so true! He intended to aid her; but Mazurier himself had
+never uttered comments so entirely to the purpose as did this young
+girl, speaking from heart and brain. Better fortune, apparently, could
+not have befallen him than was his in this reading; for with every
+sentence almost came her comment, clear, earnest, to the point.
+
+He had need of such a friend as Jacqueline seemed able to prove herself.
+His nearest living relative was an uncle, who had sent the ambitious and
+capable young student to Meaux; for he gave great promise, and was worth
+an experiment, the old man thought,--and was strong to be thrown out
+into the world, where he might ascertain the power of self-reliance. He
+had need of friends, and, of all friends, one like Jacqueline.
+
+From the silence and retirement of his home in Picardy he had come
+to Meaux,--the town that was so astir, busy, thoroughly alive!
+Inexperienced in worldly ways he came. His face was beautiful with its
+refinement and power of expression. His eyes were full of eloquence;
+so also was his voice. When he came from Picardy to Meaux, his old
+neighbors prophesied for him. He knew their prophecies, and purposed to
+fulfil them. He ceased from dreaming, when he came to Meaux. He was not
+dreaming, when he looked on Jacqueline. He was aware of what he read,
+and how she listened, under those chestnut-trees.
+
+The burden of the tracts he read to Jacqueline was salvation by faith,
+not of works,--an iconoclastic doctrine, that was to sweep away
+the great mass of Romish superstition, invalidating Papal power.
+Image-worship, shrine-frequenting sacrifices, indulgences, were esteemed
+and proved less than nothing worth in the work of salvation.
+
+"Did you understand John, when he said that the priests deceived us and
+were full of robberies, and talked about the masses for the dead, and
+said the only good of them was to put money into the Church?" asked
+Jacqueline.
+
+"I believe it," he replied, with spirit.
+
+"That the masses are worth nothing?" she asked,--far from concealing
+that the thought disturbed her.
+
+"What can they be worth, if a man has lived a bad life?"
+
+"_That_ my father did _not!_" she exclaimed.
+
+"If a man is a bad man, why, then he is. He has gone where he must be
+judged. The Scripture says, As a tree falls, it must lie."
+
+"My father was a good man, Victor. But he died of a sudden, and there
+was no time."
+
+"No time for what, Jacqueline? No time for him to turn about, and be a
+bad man in the end?"
+
+"No time for confession and absolution. He died praying God to forgive
+him all his sins. I heard him. I wondered, Victor, for I never thought
+of his committing sins. And my mother mourned for him as a good wife
+should not mourn for a bad husband."
+
+"Then what is your trouble, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Do you know why I came here to Meaux? I came to get money,--to earn it.
+I should be paid more money here than I got for any work at home, they
+said: that was the reason. When I had earned so much,--it was a large
+sum, but I knew I should get it, and the priest encouraged me to think
+I should,--he said that my heart's desire would be accomplished. And I
+could earn the money before winter is over, I think. But now, if"----
+
+"Throw it into the Seine, when you get it, rather than pay it to the
+liar for selling your father out of a place he was never in! He is safe,
+believe me, if he was the good man you say. Do not disturb yourself,
+Jacqueline."
+
+"He never harmed a soul. And we loved him that way a bad man could not
+be loved."
+
+As Jacqueline said this, a smile more sad than joyful passed over her
+face, and disappeared.
+
+"He rests in peace," said Victor Le Roy.
+
+"It is what I must believe. But what if there should be a mistake about
+it? It was all I was working for."
+
+"Think for yourself, Jacqueline. No matter what Leclerc thinks or I
+think. Can you suppose that Jesus Christ requires any such thing as this
+of you, that you should make a slave of yourself for the expiation of
+your father? It is a monstrous thought. Doubt not it was love that
+took him away so quickly. And love can care for him. Long before this,
+doubtless, he has heard the words, 'Come, ye blessed of my father!' And
+what is required of you, do you ask? You shall be merciful to them that
+live; and trust Him that He will care for those who have gone beyond
+your reach. Is it so? Do I understand you? You have been thinking to
+_buy_ this good _gift_ of God, eternal life for your father, when of
+course you could have nothing to do with it. You have been imposed upon,
+and robbed all this while, and this is the amount of it."
+
+"Well, do not speak so. If what you say is true,--and I think it may
+be,--what is past is past."
+
+"But won't you see what an infernal lie has been practised on you, and
+all the rest of us who had any conscience or heart in us, all this
+while? There _is_ no purgatory; and it is nonsense to think, that, if
+there were, money could buy a man out of it. Jesus Christ is the one
+sole atonement for sin. And by faith in Him shall a man save his soul
+alive. That is the only way. If I lose my soul, and am gone, the rest
+is between me and God. Do you see it _should_ be so, and must be so,
+Jacqueline?"
+
+"He was a good man," said Jacqueline.
+
+She did not find it quite easy to make nothing of all this matter, which
+had been the main-spring of her effort since her father died. She could
+not in one instant drop from her calculations that on which she had
+heretofore based all her activity. She had labored so long, so hard, to
+buy the rest and peace and heavenly blessedness of the father she loved,
+it was hardly to be expected that at once she would choose to see that
+in that rest and peace and blessedness, she, as a producing power, had
+no part whatever.
+
+As she more than hinted, the purpose of her life seemed to be taken from
+her. She could not perceive that fact without some consternation; could
+not instantly connect it with another, which should enable her to look
+around her with the deliberation of a liberated spirit, choosing her new
+work. And in this she was acted upon by more than the fear arising from
+the influences of her old belief. Of course she should have been, and
+yet she was not, able to drop instantly and forever from recollection
+the constant sacrifices she had made, the deprivation she had endured,
+with heroic persistence,--the putting far away every personal
+indulgence whose price had a market value. Her father was not the only
+person concerned in this work; the priest; herself. She had believed
+in the pastor of Domremy. Yet he had deceived her. Else he was
+self-deceived; and what if the blind should strive to lead the blind?
+_Could_ she accept the new faith, the great freedom, with perfect
+rejoicing?
+
+Victor Le Roy seemed to have some suspicion of what was passing in
+her thoughts. He did not need to watch her changeful face in order to
+understand them.
+
+"I advise you to still think of this," said he. "Recall your father's
+life, and then ask yourself if it is likely that He who is Love requires
+the sacrifice of your youth and your strength before your father shall
+receive from Him what He has promised to give to all who trust in Him.
+Take God at his word, and you will be obliged to give up all this
+priest-trash."
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+Victor Le Roy spoke these words quietly, as if aware that he might
+safely leave them, as well as any other true words, to the just sense of
+Jacqueline.
+
+She was none the happier for them when she returned that night to the
+little city room, the poor lodging whose high window overlooked both
+town and country, city streets and harvest-fields, and the river flowing
+on beyond the borders of the town,--no happier through many a moment of
+thinking, until, as it were by an instant illumination, she began to
+see the truth of the matter, as some might wonder she did not instantly
+perceive it, if they could omit from observation this leading fact, that
+the orphan girl was Jacqueline Gabrie, child of the Church, and not
+a wise and generous person, who had never been in bondage to
+superstitions.
+
+For a long time after her return to her lodging she was alone. Elsie was
+in the street with the rest of the town, talking, as all were talking,
+of the sight that Meaux should see to-morrow.
+
+Besides Jacqueline, there was hardly another person in this great
+building, six stories high, every room of which had usually a tenant at
+this hour. She sat by her window, and looked at the dusky town, over
+which the moon was rising. But her thoughts were far away; over many a
+league they wandered.
+
+Once more she stood on the playground of her toilsome childhood. She
+recalled many a year of sacrificing drudgery, which now she could not
+name such,--for another reason than that which had heretofore prevented
+her from calling it a sacrifice. She remembered these years of wrong and
+of extortion,--they received their proper name now,--years whose mirth
+and leisure she had quietly foregone, but during which she had borne a
+burden that saddened youth, while it also dignified it,--a burden which
+had made her heart's natural cheerfulness the subject of self-reproach,
+and her maiden dreams and wishes matter for tears, for shame, for
+confession, for prayer.
+
+Now Victor Le Roy's words came to her very strangely; powerfully they
+moved her. She believed them in this solitude, where at leisure she
+could meditate upon them. A vision more fair and blessed than she had
+ever imagined rose before her. There was no suffering in it, and no
+sorrow; it was full of peace. Already, in the heaven to which she had
+hoped her toil would give him at length admission, her father had found
+his home. There was a glory in his rest not reflected from her filial
+love, but from the all-availing love of Christ.
+
+Then--delay the rigor of your judgment!--she began,--yes, she, this
+Jacqueline, began to count the cost of what she had done. She was not a
+sordid soul, she had not a miserly nature. Before she had gone far in
+that strange computation, she paused abruptly, with a crimsoned face,
+and not with tearless eyes. Counting the cost! Estimating the sacrifice!
+Had, then, her purpose been less holy because excited by falsehood and
+sustained through delusion? Was she less loving and less true, because
+deceived? And was she to lament that Christ, the one and only Priest,
+rather than another instrumentality, was the deliverer of her beloved
+from the power of death?
+
+No ritual was remembered, and no formula consulted, when she cried
+out,--"It is so! and I thank Thee! Only give me now, my Jesus, a
+purpose as holy as that Thou hast taken away!"
+
+But she had not come into her chamber to spend a solitary evening there.
+Turning away from the window, she bestowed a little care upon her
+person, smoothed away the traces of her day's labor, and after all was
+done she lingered yet longer. She was going out, evidently. Whither? To
+visit the mother of John Leclerc. She must carry back the tracts the
+good woman had lent her. Their contents had firm lodgement in her
+memory.
+
+Others might run to and fro in the streets, and talk about the corners,
+and prognosticate with passion, and defy, in the way of cowardice, where
+safety rather than the truth is well assured. If one woman could console
+another, Jacqueline wished that she might console Leclerc's mother. And
+if any words of wisdom could drop from the poor old woman's lips while
+her soul was in this strait, Jacqueline desired to hear those words.
+
+Down the many flights of stairs she went across the court, and then
+along the street, to the house where the wool-comber lived.
+
+A brief pause followed her knock for admittance. She repeated it. Then
+was heard a sound from within,--a step crossing the floor. The door
+opened, and there stood the mother of Leclerc, ready to face any danger,
+the very Fiend himself.
+
+But when she saw that it was Jacqueline, only Jacqueline,--an angel, as
+one might say, and not a devil,--the terrible look passed from her face;
+she opened the door wide.
+
+"Come in, child! come in!"
+
+So Jacqueline went into the room where John had worked and thought,
+reasoned, argued, prayed.
+
+This is the home of the man because of whom many are this night offended
+in the city of Meaux. This is the place whence issued the power that has
+set the tongues to talking, and the minds to thinking, and the hearts to
+hoping, and the authorities to avenging.
+
+A grain of mustard-seed is the kingdom of heaven in a figure; the
+wandering winds a symbol of the Pentecostal power: a dove did signify
+the descent of God to man. This poor chamber, so pent in, and so lowly,
+so obscure, has its significance. Here has a life been lived; and not
+the least does it import, that walls are rough and the ceiling low.
+
+But the life of John Leclerc was not to be limited. A power has stood
+here which by its freedom has set at defiance the customary calculation
+of the worldly-wise. In high places and in low the people are this night
+disturbed because of him who has dared to lift his voice in the freedom
+of the speech of God. In drawing-rooms odorous with luxury the man's
+name has mention, and the vulgarity of his liberated speech and
+courageous faith is a theme to move the wonder and excite the
+reprobation of hearts whose languid beating keeps up their show of life,
+--to what sufficient purpose expect me not to tell. His voice is loud
+and harsh to echo through these music-loving halls; it rends and tears,
+with almost savage strength, the dainty silences.
+
+But busier tongues are elsewhere more vehement in speech; larger
+hearts beat faster indignation; grief and vulgarest curiosity are all
+manifesting themselves after their several necessity. In solitary places
+heroes pray throughout the night, wrestling like Jacob, agonizing like
+Saul, and with some of them the angel left his blessing; for some the
+golden harp was struck that soothed their souls to peace. Angels of
+heaven had work to do that night. Angels of heaven and hell did prove
+themselves that night in Meaux: night of unrest and sleeplessness, or of
+cruel dreaming; night of bloody visions, tortured by the apprehension
+of a lacerated body driven through the city streets, and of the hooting
+shouts of Devildom; night haunted by a gory image,--the defiled temple
+of the Holy Ghost.
+
+Did the prospect of torture keep _him_ wakeful? Could the man bear the
+disgrace, the derision, shouting, agony? Was there nothing in this
+thought, that as a witness of Jesus Christ he was to appear next day,
+that should soothe him even unto slumber? Upon the silence of his
+guarded chamber let none but ministering angels break. Sacred to him,
+and to Him who watched the hours of the night, let the night go!
+
+But here--his mother, Jacqueline with her--we may linger with these.
+
+
+V.
+
+
+When the old woman saw that it was Jacqueline Gabrie who stood waiting
+admittance, she opened the door wider, as I said; and the dark solemnity
+of her countenance seemed to be, by so much as a single ray, enlivened
+for an instant.
+
+She at once perceived the tracts which Jacqueline had brought. Aware of
+this, the girl said,--
+
+"I stayed to hear them read, after I heard that for the sake of the
+truth in them"--she hesitated--"this city will invite God's wrath
+to-morrow."
+
+And she gave the papers to the old woman, who took them in silence.
+
+By-and-by she asked,--
+
+"Are you just home, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Since sunset,--though it was nearly dark when I came in,"--she
+answered. "Victor Le Roy was down by the riverbank, and he read them for
+me."
+
+"He wanted to get out of town, maybe. You would surely have thought it
+was a holiday, Jacqueline, if you could have seen the people. Anything
+for a show: but some of them might well lament. Did you want to know the
+truth he pays so dear for teaching? But you have heard it, my child."
+
+"We all heard what he must pay for it, in the fields at noon. Yes,
+mother, I wanted to know."
+
+"But if you shall believe it, Jacqueline, it may lead you into danger,
+into sad straits," said the old woman, looking at the young girl with
+earnest pity in her eyes.
+
+She loved this girl, and shuddered at the thought of exposing her to
+danger.
+
+Jacqueline had nursed her neighbor, Antonine, and more than once, after
+a hard day's labor, which must be followed by another, she had sat with
+her through the night; and she could pay this service only with love,
+and the best gift of her love was to instruct her in the truth. John and
+she had proved their grateful interest in her fortunes by giving her
+that which might expose her to danger, persecution, and they could not
+foresee to what extremity of evil.
+
+And now the old woman felt constrained to say this to her, even for her
+love's sake,--"It may lead you into danger."
+
+"But if truth is dangerous, shall I choose to be safe?" answered
+Jacqueline, with stately courage.
+
+"It _is_ truth. It _will_ support him. Blessed be Jesus Christ and His
+witnesses! To-night, and to-morrow, and the third day, our Jesus will
+sustain him. They think John will retract. They do not know my son. They
+do not know how he has waited, prayed, and studied to learn the truth,
+and how dear it is to him. No, Jacqueline, they do not. But when they
+prove him, they will know. And if he is willing to witness, shall I
+not be glad? The people will understand him better afterward,--and the
+priests, maybe. 'I can do all things,' said he, 'Christ strengthening
+me'; and that was said long ago, by one who was proved. Where shall you
+be, Jacqueline?"
+
+"Oh," groaned Jacqueline, "I shall be in the fields at work, away from
+these cruel people, and the noise and the sight. But, mother, where
+shall you be?"
+
+"With the people, child. With him, if I live. Yes, he is my son; and
+I have never been ashamed of the brave boy. I will not be ashamed
+to-morrow. I will follow John; and when they bind him, I will let him
+see his mother's eyes are on him,--blessing him, my child!--Hark! how
+they talk through the streets!--Jacqueline, he was never a coward. He
+is strong, too. They will not kill him, and they cannot make him dumb.
+He will hold the truth the faster for all they do to him. Jesus Christ
+on his side, do you think he will fear the city, or all Paris, or all
+France? He does not know what it is to be afraid. And when God opened
+his eyes to the truth of his gospel, which the priests had hid, he meant
+that John should work for it,--for he is a working-man, whatever he sets
+about."
+
+So this old woman tried, and not without success, to comfort herself,
+and sustain her tender, proud, maternal heart. The dire extremity into
+which she and her son had fallen did not crush her; few were the tears
+that fell from her eyes as she recalled for Jacqueline the years of her
+son's boyhood,--told her of his courage, as in various ways it had made
+itself manifest: how he had always been fearless in danger,--a
+conqueror of pain,--seemingly regardless of comfort,--fond of
+contemplation,--contented with his humble state,--kindly, affectionate,
+generous, but easily stirred to wrath by injustice, when manifested by
+the strong toward the weak,--or by cruelty, or by falsehood.
+
+Many an anecdote of his career might she relate; for his character,
+under the pressure of this trial, which was as searching and severe a
+test of her faith as of his, seemed to illustrate itself in manifold
+heroic ways, all now of the highest significance. With more majesty and
+grandeur his character arose before her; for now in all the past, as she
+surveyed it, she beheld a living power, a capability, and a necessity of
+new and grand significance, and her heart reverenced the spirit she had
+nursed into being.
+
+Removed to the distance of a prison from her sight, separated from
+her love by bolts and bars, and the wrath of tyranny and close-banded
+bigotry, he became a power, a hero, who moved her, as she recalled
+his sentence, and prophesied the morrow, to a feeling tears could not
+explain.
+
+They passed the night together, the young woman and the old. In the
+morning Jacqueline must go into the field again. She was in haste to go.
+Leaving a kiss on the old woman's cheek, she was about to steal away in
+silence; but as she laid her hand upon the latch, a thought arrested
+her, and she did not open the door, but went back and sat beside the
+window, and watched the mother of Leclerc through the sleep that must be
+brief. It was not in her heart to go away and leave those eyes to waken
+upon solitude. She must see a helpful hand and hopeful face, and, if it
+might be, hear a cheerful human voice, in the dawning of that day.
+
+She had not long to wait, and the time she may have lost in waiting
+Jacqueline did not count or reckon, when she heard her name spoken, and
+could answer, "What wilt thou? here am I."
+
+Not in vain had she lingered. What were wages, more or less, that they
+should be mentioned, thought of, when she might give and receive here
+what the world gives not, and never has to give,--and what a mortal
+cannot buy, the treasure being priceless? Through the quiet of that
+morning hour, soothing words, and strong, she felt and knew to speak;
+and when at last she hurried away from the city to the fields, she was
+stronger than of nature, able to bear witness to the faith that speaks
+from the bewilderment of its distresses, "Though He slay me, yet will I
+trust in Him."
+
+Not alone had her young, frank, loving eyes enlivened the dreary morning
+to the heart of Leclerc's mother. Grace for grace had she received. And
+words of the hymn that were always on John's lips had found echo
+from his mother's memory this morning: they lodged in the heart of
+Jacqueline. She went away repeating,--
+
+ "In the midst of death, the jaws
+ Of hell against us gape.
+ Who from peril dire as this
+ Openeth us escape?
+ 'Tis thou, O Lord, alone!
+ Our bitter suffering and our sin
+ Pity from thy mercy win,
+ Holy Lord and God!
+ Strong and holy God!
+ Merciful and holy Saviour!
+ Eternal God!
+ Let us not despair
+ For the fire that burneth there!
+ Kyrie, eleison!"
+
+Jacqueline met Elsie on her way to the fields. But the girls had
+not much to say to each other that morning in their walk. Elsie was
+manifestly conscious of some great constraint; she might have reported
+to her friend what she had heard in the streets last night, but she
+felt herself prevented from such communication,--seemed to be intent
+principally on one thing: she would not commit herself in any direction.
+She was looking with suspicion upon Jacqueline. Whatever became of her
+soul, her body she would save alive. She was waking to this world's
+enjoyment with vision alert, senses keen. Martyrdom in any degree was
+without attraction to her, and in Truth she saw no beauty that she
+should desire it. It was a root out of dry ground indeed, that gave no
+promise of spreading into goodly shelter and entrancing beauty.
+
+As to Jacqueline, she was absorbed in her heroic and exalted thoughts.
+Her heart had almost failed her when she said farewell to John's mother;
+tearfully she had hurried on her way. One vast cloud hung between her
+and heaven; darkly rolled the river; every face seemed to bear witness
+to the tragedy that day should witness.
+
+Not the least of her affliction was the consciousness of the distance
+increasing between herself and Elsie Meril. She knew that Elsie was
+rejoicing that she had in no way endangered herself yet; and sure was
+she that in no way would Elsie invite the fury of avenging tyranny and
+reckless superstition.
+
+Jacqueline asked her no questions,--spoke few words to her,--was
+absorbed in her own thoughts. But she was kindly in her manner, and
+in such words as she spoke. So Elsie perceived two things,--that she
+should not lose her friend, neither was in danger of being seized by the
+heretical mania. It was her way of drawing inferences. Certain that
+she had not lost her friend, because Jacqueline did not look away, and
+refuse to recognize her; congratulating herself that she was not the
+object of suspicion, either justly or unjustly, among the dreadful
+priests.
+
+But that friend whose steady eye had balanced Elsie was already sick at
+heart, for she knew that never more must she rely upon this girl who
+came with her from Domremy.
+
+As they crossed the bridge, lingering thereon a moment, the river seemed
+to moan in its flowing toward Meaux. The day's light was sombre; the
+birds' songs had no joyous sound,--plaintive was their chirping; it
+saddened the heart to hear the wind,--it was a wind that seemed to take
+the buoyancy and freshness out of every living thing, an ugly southeast
+wind. They went on together,--to the wheat-fields together;--it was to
+be day of minutes to poor Jacqueline.
+
+To be away from Meaux bodily was, it appeared, only that the imagination
+might have freer exercise. Yes,--now the people must be moving through
+the streets; shopmen were not so intent on profits this day as they were
+on other days. The priests were thinking with vengeful hate of the wrong
+to themselves which should be met and conquered that day. The people
+should be swiftly brought into order again! John in his prison was
+preparing, as all without the prison were.
+
+The crowd was gathering fast. He would soon be led forth. The shameful
+march was forming. Now the brutal hand of Power was lifted with
+scourges. The bravest man in Meaux was driven through the streets,--she
+saw with what a visage,--she knew with what a heart. Her heart was awed
+with thinking thereupon. A bloody mist seemed to fall upon the environs
+of Meaux; through that red horror she could not penetrate; it shrouded
+and it held poor Jacqueline.
+
+Of the faith that would sustain him she began once more to inquire. It
+is not by a bound that mortals ever clear the heights of God. Step by
+step they scale the eminences, toiling through the heavenly atmosphere.
+Only around the summit shines the eternal sun.
+
+So she must now recall the words that Victor Le Roy read for her last
+night; and the words he spoke from out his heart,--these also. And
+she did not fear now, as yesterday, to ask for light. Let the light
+dawn,--oh, let it shine on her!
+
+The mother of Leclerc had uttered mysterious words which Jacqueline took
+for truth; the light was joyful and blessed, and of all things to be
+desired, though it smote the life from one like lightning. She waited
+alone with faith, watching till it should come,--left alone with this
+beam glimmering like a moth through darkness!--for thus was a believer,
+or one who resolved on believing, left in that day, when he turned from
+the machinery of the Church, and stood alone, searching for God without
+the aid of priestly intervention.
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+There was something awful in such loneliness.
+
+Jacqueline knew little of it until now, as she walked toward the fields,
+by the side of Elsie Meril.
+
+She saw how she had depended on the priest of Domremy, as he had been
+the lawgiver and the leader of her life. A spiritual life, to be
+sustained only by the invisible spirit, to be lived by faith, not in
+man, but in God, without intervention of saint or angel or Blessed
+Virgin,--was the world's life liberated by such freedom?
+
+By faith, and not by sight, the just must live. Would He bow his heavens
+and come down to dwell with the contrite and the humble?
+
+Wondrous strange it seemed,--incomprehensible,--more than she could
+manage or control. There are prisoners whose pardon proves the world too
+large for them: they find no rest until their prison-door is opened for
+them again.
+
+Of this class was Elsie,--not Jacqueline. Elsie was afraid of
+freedom,--not equal to it,--unable to deal with it; satisfied with being
+a child, with being a slave, when it came to be a question whether she
+should accept and use her highest privilege and dignity. At this hour,
+and among all persuasions, you will find that Elsie does not stand
+alone. Little children there are, long as the world shall stand,--though
+not precisely such as we think of when we remember, "Of such is the
+kingdom of heaven."
+
+It was enough for Elsie--it is enough for multitudes through all the
+reformations--that she had an earthly defence, even such as she relied
+on without trouble. She lived in the hour. She had never toiled to
+deliver her darling from the lions,--to redeem a soul from purgatory.
+She eased her conscience, when it was troubled, by such shallow
+discovery of herself as she deemed confession. She loved dancing,
+and all other amusements,--hated solitude, knew not the meaning of
+self-abnegation. And let her dance and enjoy herself!--some service
+to the body is rendered thereby. She might do greatly worse, and
+is incapable of doing greatly better. Will you stint the idiots of
+comfort,--or rather build them decent habitations, and even vex yourself
+to feed and clothe them, in reverent confidence that the Future shall
+surely take them up and bless them, unstop their ears, open their eyes,
+give speech to them and absolute deliverance?
+
+There are others beside Elsie who congratulate themselves on
+non-committal,--they covet not the advanced and dangerous positions.
+Honorable, but dangerous positions! The head might be taken off, do you
+not see? And could all eternity compensate for the loss of time? Ah, the
+body might be mutilated,--the liberty restrained: as if, indeed, a
+man's freedom were not eternally established, when his enemies, howling
+around, must at least crucify him! as if a divine voice were not ever
+heard through the raging of the people, saying, "Come up higher!"
+
+But a fern-leaf cannot grow into a mighty hemlock-tree. From the ashes
+of a sparrow the phoenix shall not rise. You will not to all eternity,
+by any artificial means, nor by a miracle, bring forth an eagle from a
+mollusk.
+
+There was not a sadder heart in all those fields of Meaux than the heart
+of Jacqueline Gabrie. There was not a stronger heart. Not a hand
+labored more diligently. Under the broad-brimmed peasant-hat was a sad
+countenance,--under the peasant-dress a heavily burdened spirit. Silent,
+all day, she labored. She was alone at noon under the river-bordered
+trees, eating her coarse fare without zest, but with a conscience,--to
+sustain the body that was born to toil. But in the maelstroem of doubt
+and anxiety was she tossed and whirled, and she cared not for her life.
+To be rid of it, now for the first time, she felt might be a blessing.
+What purpose, indeed, had she? She turned her thought from this
+question, but it would not let her alone. Again and yet again she turned
+to meet it, and thus would surely have at length its satisfying answer.
+
+John Leclerc might pass through this ordeal, as from the first she
+had expected of him. But she listened to the speech of many of her
+fellow-laborers. Some prophecies which had a sound incredible escaped
+them. She did not credit them, but they tormented her. They contended
+with one another. John, some foretold, would certainly retract. One day
+of public whipping would suffice. When the blood began to flow, he would
+see his duty clearer! The men were prophesying from the depths and the
+abundance of their self-consciousness. Others speculated on the final
+result of the executed sentence. They believed that the "obstinacy" and
+courage of the man would provoke his judges, and the executors of his
+sentence,--that with rigor they would execute it,--and that, led on
+by passion, and provoked by such as would side with the victim, the
+sentence would terminate in his destruction. Sooner or later, nothing
+but his life would be found ultimately to satisfy his enemies.
+
+It might be so, thought Jacqueline Gabrie. What then? what then?--she
+thought. There was inspiration to the girl in that cruel prophecy. Her
+lifework was not ended. If Christ was the One Ransom, and it did truly
+fall on Him, and not on her, to care for those beloved, departed from
+this life, her work was still for love.
+
+John Leclerc disabled or dead, who should care then for his aged mother?
+Who should minister to him? Who, indeed, but Jacqueline?
+
+Living or dying, she said to herself, with grand enthusiasm,--living or
+dying, let him do the Master's pleasure! She also was here to serve that
+Master; and while in spiritual things he fed the hungry, clothed the
+naked, gave the cup of living water, visited the imprisoned, and the
+sick of sin, she would bind herself to minister to him and his old
+mother in temporal things; so should he live above all cares save those
+of heavenly love. She could support them all by her diligence, and in
+this there would be joy.
+
+She thought this through her toil; and the thought was its own reward.
+It strengthened her like an angel,--strengthened heart and faith. She
+labored as no other peasant-woman did that day,--like a beast of burden,
+unresisting, patient,--like a holy saint, so peaceful and assured, so
+conscious of the present very God!
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+MIDSUMMER.
+
+
+ Around this lovely valley rise
+ The purple hills of Paradise.
+ Oh, softly on yon banks of haze
+ Her rosy face the Summer lays!
+ Becalmed along the azure sky,
+ The argosies of cloudland lie,
+ Whose shores, with many a shining rift,
+ Far off their pearl-white peaks uplift.
+
+ Through all the long midsummer-day
+ The meadow-sides are sweet with hay.
+ I seek the coolest sheltered seat
+ Just where the field and forest meet,--
+ Where grow the pine-trees tall and bland,
+ The ancient oaks austere and grand,
+ And fringy roots and pebbles fret
+ The ripples of the rivulet.
+
+ I watch, the mowers as they go
+ Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved row;
+ With even stroke their scythes they swing,
+ In tune their merry whetstones ring;
+ Behind the nimble youngsters run
+ And toss the thick swaths in the sun;
+ The cattle graze; while, warm and still,
+ Slopes the broad pasture, basks the hill,
+ And bright, when summer breezes break,
+ The green wheat crinkles like a lake.
+
+ The butterfly and humble-bee
+ Come to the pleasant woods with me;
+ Quickly before me runs the quail,
+ The chickens skulk behind the rail,
+ High up the lone wood-pigeon sits,
+ And the woodpecker pecks and flits.
+ Sweet woodland music sinks and swells,
+ The brooklet rings its tinkling bells,
+ The swarming insects drone and hum,
+ The partridge beats his throbbing drum.
+ The squirrel leaps among the boughs,
+ And chatters in his leafy house.
+ The oriole flashes by; and, look!
+ Into the mirror of the brook,
+ Where the vain blue-bird trims his coat,
+ Two tiny feathers fall and float.
+
+ As silently, as tenderly,
+ The down of peace descends on me.
+ Oh, this is peace! I have no need
+ Of friend to talk, of book to read:
+ A dear Companion here abides;
+ Close to my thrilling heart He hides;
+ The holy silence is His Voice:
+ I lie and listen, and rejoice.
+
+
+
+
+TOBACCO.
+
+
+"Tobacco, divine, rare, superexcellent tobacco, which goes far beyond all
+the panaceas, potable gold, and philosopher's stones, a sovereign remedy
+to all diseases! a good vomit, I confess, a virtuous herb, if it be well
+qualified, opportunely taken, and medicinally used. But as it is commonly
+abused by most men, which take it as tinkers do ale, 'tis a plague, a
+mischief, a violent purger of goods, lauds, health: hellish, devilish, and
+damned tobacco, the ruin and overthrow of body and soul!"--BURTON. _Anatomy
+of Melancholy_.
+
+A delicate subject? Very true; and one which must be handled as tenderly
+as _biscuit de Sevres_, or Venetian glass. Whichever side of the
+question we may assume, as the most popular, or the most right, the
+feelings of so large and respectable a minority are to be consulted,
+that it behooves the critic or reviewer to move cautiously, and,
+imitating the actions of a certain feline household reformer, to show
+only the _patte de velours_.
+
+The omniscient Burton seems to have reached the pith of the matter. The
+two hostile sections of his proposition, though written so long since,
+would very well fit the smoker and the reformer of to-day. That portion
+of the world which is enough advanced to advocate reforms is entirely
+divided against itself on the subject of Tobacco. Immense interests,
+economical, social, and, as some conceive, moral, are arrayed on either
+side. The reformers have hitherto had the better of it in point of
+argument, and have pushed the attack with most vigor, yet with but
+trifling results. Smokers and chewers, _et id omne genus_, mollified
+by their habits, or laboring under guilty consciences, have made but a
+feeble defence. Nor in all this is there anything new. It is as old as
+the knowledge of the "weed" among thinking men,--in other words, about
+three centuries. The English adventurers under Drake and Raleigh and
+Hawkins, and the multitude of minor Protestant "filibusters" who
+followed in their train, had no sooner imported the habit of smoking
+tobacco, among the other outlandish customs which they brought home from
+the new Indies and the Spanish Main, than the higher powers rebuked
+the practice, which novelty and its own fascinations were rendering so
+fashionable, in language more forcible than elegant. The philippic of
+King James is so apposite that we may be pardoned for transcribing one
+oft-quoted sentence:--"But herein is not only a great vanity, but a
+great contempt of God's good gifts, that the sweetness of man's breath,
+being a good gift of God, should be wilfully corrupted by this stinking
+smoke.... A custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmfull
+to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume
+thereof neerest resembling the horrible Stygian smoake of the pit that
+is bottomless."[a]
+
+[Footnote a: _Counterblast to Tobacco_.]
+
+The Popes Urban VIII. and Innocent XII. fulminated edicts of
+excommunication against all who used tobacco in any form; from which we
+may conclude that the new habit was spreading rapidly over Christendom.
+And not only the successors of St. Peter, but those also of the Prophet,
+denounced the practice, the Sultan Amurath IV. making it punishable with
+death. The Viziers of Turkey spitted the noses of smokers with their own
+pipes; the more considerate Shah of Persia cut them entirely off. The
+knout greeted in Russia the first indulgence, and death followed the
+second offence. In some of the Swiss cantons smoking was considered a
+crime second only to adultery. Modern republics are not quite so severe.
+
+It is not to be supposed that in England the royal pamphlet had its
+desired effect. For we find that James laid many rigid sumptuary
+restrictions upon the practice which he abominated, based chiefly upon
+the extravagance it occasioned,--the expenses of some smokers being
+estimated at several hundred pounds a year. The King, however, had the
+sagacity to secure a preemption-right as early as 1620.
+
+Yet how could the practice but have increased, when, as Malcolm relates
+the tradition, such men as Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Hugh Middleton
+sat smoking at their doors?--for "the public manner in which it was
+exhibited, and the aromatic flavor inhaled by the passengers, exclusive
+of the singularity of the circumstance and the eminence of the parties,"
+could hardly have failed to favor its dissemination.
+
+The silver-tongued Joshua Sylvester hoped to aid the royal cause by
+writing a poem entitled, "Tobacco battered, and the pipes shattered,
+(about their ears who idly idolize so base and barbarous a weed, or at
+least-wise overlove so loathsome a vanity,) by a volley of holy shot
+thundered from Mount Helicon." If the smoothness of the verses equalled
+the euphony of the title, this must have proved a moving appeal.
+
+Stow contents himself with calling tobacco "a stinking weed, so much
+abused to God's dishonor."
+
+Burton exhausts the subject in a single paragraph. Ben Jonson, though
+a jolly good fellow, was opposed to the habit of smoking. But Spenser
+mentions "divine tobacco." Walton's "Piscator" indulges in a pipe at
+breakfast, and "Venator" has his tobacco brought from London to insure
+its purity. Sweet Izaak could have selected no more soothing minister
+than the pipe to the "contemplative man's recreation."
+
+As the new sedative gains in esteem, we find Francis Quarles, in his
+"Emblems," treating it in this serio-comic vein:--
+
+ "Flint-hearted Stoics, you whose marble eyes
+ Contemn a wrinkle, and whose souls despise
+ To follow Nature's too affected fashion,
+ Or travel in the regent walk of passion,--
+ Whose rigid hearts disdain to shrink at
+ fears,
+ Or play at fast-and-loose with smiles and
+ tears,--
+ Come, burst your spleens with laughter to
+ behold
+ A new-found vanity, which days of old
+ Ne'er knew,--a vanity that has beset
+ The world, and made more slaves than Mahomet,--
+ That has condemned us to the servile yoke
+ Of slavery, and made us slaves to smoke,
+ But stay! why tax I thus our modern
+ times
+ For new-born follies and for new-born
+ crimes?
+ Are we sole guilty, and the first age free?
+ No: they were smoked and slaved as well
+ as we.
+ What's sweet-lipped honor's blast, but
+ smoke? what's treasure,
+ But very smoke? and what's more smoke
+ than pleasure?"
+
+Brand gives us the whole matter in a nutshell, in the following quaint
+epigram, entitled "A Tobacconist," taken from an old collection:--
+
+ "All dainty meats I do defy
+ Which feed men fat as swine;
+ He is a frugal man, indeed,
+ That on a leaf can dine.
+
+ "He needs no napkin for his hands
+ His fingers' ends to wipe,
+ That keeps his kitchen in a box,
+ And roast meat in a pipe."
+
+And so on, the singers of succeeding years, _usque ad nauseam_,--a
+loathing equalled only by that of the earlier writers for the plant, now
+so lauded.
+
+Tobacco-worship seems to us to culminate in the following stanza from a
+German song:--
+
+ "Tabak ist mein Leben,
+ Dem hab' ich mich ergeben, ergeben;
+ Tabak ist meine Lust.
+ Und eh' ich ihn sollt' lassen,
+ Viel lieber wollt' ich hassen,
+ Ja, hassen selbst eines Maedchens Kuss."
+
+As it is with your sex, my dear Madam, that this question of Tobacco is
+to be mainly argued,--for, to your honor be it spoken, you have always
+been of the reformatory party,--let us hope, that, provided you have
+not read or translated the last verse, you have recovered your natural
+amiability, ruffled perhaps by this odious subject, and are prepared
+to believe us when we tell you that these opposite opinions cannot be
+wholly reconciled, and to follow us patiently while we attempt to show
+that a certain gentleman, introduced to your maternal ancestor at a very
+remote period of the world's history, is not so black as he is sometimes
+painted. Let us keep good-natured, at least, in this discussion; for we
+propose to settle it without taking off the gloves, as we intimated in
+the opening paragraph. Your patience will be much needed for the sad
+army of facts and figures which is to follow. Therefore it is but just
+that you should speak now, after these long sentences.
+
+Your George will never smoke? Excuse me. _When_ he will smoke depends
+upon the precocity of his individual generation; and that increases in
+a direct ratio with time itself, in this country. Thus, to state the
+matter in an approximate inverse arithmetical progression, and dating
+the birth of "young America" about the year 1825,--previously to which
+reigned the dark ages of oldfogydom, so called,--we find as follows:
+--From 1825 to 1835, young gentlemen learned to smoke when from 25 to 20
+years of age; from 1835 to 1845, young _gents_, ditto, ditto, from 20 to
+15 years; 1845 to 1855, from 15 to 10; 1855 to 1865, 10 to 5; 1865 to
+1875, 5 to 0; and, if we continue, 1875 to 1885, zero to minus: but
+really the question is becoming too nebulous. _Corollary_. In about ten
+years, the youth of the United States will smoke contemporaneously with
+the infant Burmese, who, we are credibly informed, begin the habit
+_aet_. 3, or as soon as they have cut enough teeth to hold a cigar.
+
+Therefore, we will say, Madam, at some indefinite period of his
+childhood or youth,--for we would not be so impolite as to infer your
+age by asking that of your son,--the _susdit_ George will come home
+late from play some afternoon, languid, pale, and disinclined for tea.
+He will indignantly repel the accusation of feeling ill, and there will
+lurk about his person an indescribable odor of stale cinnamon, which
+you will be at a loss to account for, but which his elder brother will
+recognize as the natural result of smoking "cinnamon cigars," wherewith
+certain wicked tobacconists of this city tempt curious youth. If you
+follow him to his chamber, you will probably discover more damning
+evidence of his guilt.
+
+We will draw the curtain over the scene of the Spartan mother--we hope
+you belong to that nearly extinct class--which is to follow. Let us
+suppose all differences settled, the habit ostensibly given up, and your
+darling, grown more honest or more artful,--the result is the same to
+your blissful ignorance,--studiously pursuing his way until he enters
+college. Some fine day you drive over to the neighboring university,
+and, entering his room unannounced, you find him coloring his first
+(factitious) meerschaum!--also a sad deficiency in his wardrobe of
+half-worn clothes. _C'est une pipe qui coute cher a culotter_, the
+college meerschaum,--and in more ways than one, according to the
+"Autocrat":--"I do not advise you, young man, to consecrate the flower
+of your life to painting the bowl of a pipe," _et seq_. More bold,
+the Sophomore will smoke openly at home; and by the end of the third
+vacation, it is one of those unyielding _faits accomplis_ against which
+reformers, household or peripatetic, beat their heads in vain.
+
+Perhaps your husband smokes? If so, at what period of the twenty-four
+hours have you invariably found Mr. ---- most lenient to your little
+pecuniary peccadilloes? Is he not always most good-natured when his
+cigar is about one-third consumed, the ash evenly burnt and adherent,
+and not fallen into his shirt-bosom? Depend upon it, tobacco is a great
+soother of domestic differences.
+
+Let us, then, look an existing, firmly rooted evil--if you will call it
+so--in the face, and see if it is quite so bad as it is represented. It
+is too wide-spread to be sneered away,--for we might almost say that
+smokers were the rule, and non-smokers the exception, among all
+civilized men, Charles Kingsley supports us here:--"'Man a cooking
+animal,' my dear Doctor Johnson? Pooh! man is a _smoking_ animal.
+There is his _ergon_, his 'differential energy,' as the Aristotelians
+say,--his true distinction from the orangoutang. Ponder it well."
+
+_Query_.--What did the old Roman do without a cigar? How idle through
+the day? How survive his interminable _post-coenal_ potations?--The
+thought is not our own. It occurs somewhere in De Quincey, we believe.
+It is one of those self-evident propositions you wonder had not occurred
+to you before.--What an accessory of luxury the pipe would have been
+to him who passed the livelong day under the mosaic arches of the
+_Thermoe_! The _strigiles_ would have vanished before the meerschaum,
+had that magic clay then been known. How completely would the _hookah_
+and the _narghileh_ have harmonized with the _crater, cyathi_, and
+tripods of the _triclinium_ in that portraiture of the "Decadence of
+Rome" which hangs in the Luxembourg Gallery! Poor fellows! they managed
+to exist without them.
+
+Though pipes are found carved on very old sculptures in China, and the
+habit of smoking was long since extensively followed there, according
+to Pallas, and although certain species of the tobacco-plant, as the
+_Nicotiana rustica_, would appear to be indigenous to the country, yet
+we have the best reason to conclude that America, if not the exclusive
+home of the herb, was the birthplace of its use by man. The first great
+explorer of the West found the sensuous natives of Hispaniola rolling up
+and smoking tobacco-leaves with the same persistent indolence that
+we recognize in the Cuban of the present day. Rough Cortes saw with
+surprise the luxurious Aztec composing himself for the _siesta_ in the
+middle of the day as invariably as his fellow Dons in Castile. But he
+was amazed that the barbarians had discovered in tobacco a sedative
+to promote their reveries and compose them to sleep, of which the
+_hidalgos_ were as yet ignorant, but which they were soon to appropriate
+with avidity, and to use with equal zest. Humboldt says that it had been
+cultivated by the people of Orinoco from time immemorial, and was smoked
+all over America at the time of the Spanish Conquest,--also that it was
+first discovered by Europeans in Yucatan, in 1520, and was there called
+_Petum_. Tobacco, according to the same authority, was taken from the
+word _tabac_, the name of an instrument used in the preparation of the
+herb.
+
+Though Columbus and his immediate followers doubtless brought home
+specimens of tobacco among the other spoils of the New World, Jean
+Nicot, ambassador to Portugal from Francis II., first sent the seeds
+to France, where they were cultivated and used about the year 1560. In
+honor of its sponsor, Botany has named the plant _Nicotiana tabacum_,
+and Chemistry distinguished as _Nicotin_ its active alkaloid. Sir
+Francis Drake first brought tobacco to England about 1586. It owed
+the greater part of its early popularity, however, to the praise and
+practice of Raleigh: his high standing and character would have sufficed
+to introduce still more novel customs. The weed once inhaled, the habit
+once acquired, its seductions would not allow it to be easily laid
+aside; and we accordingly find that royal satire, public odium, and
+ruinous cost were alike inadequate to restrain its rapidly increasing
+consumption. Somewhere about the year 1600 or 1601 tobacco was carried
+to the East, and introduced among the Turks and Persians,--it is not
+known by whom: the devotion of modern Mussulmans might reasonably
+ascribe it to Allah himself. It seems almost incredible that the
+Oriental type of life and character could have existed without tobacco.
+The pipe seems as inseparable as the Koran from the follower of Mahomet.
+
+Barely three centuries ago, then, the first seeds of the _Nicotiana
+tabacum_ germinated in European soil: now, who shall count the harvests?
+Less than three centuries ago, Raleigh attracted a crowd by sitting
+smoking at his door: now, the humblest bog-trotter of Ireland must
+be poor indeed who cannot own or borrow a pipe. A little more than a
+century and a half ago, the import into Great Britain was only one
+hundred and twenty thousand pounds, and part of that was reexported:
+now, the imports reach thirty million pounds, and furnish to government
+a revenue of twenty millions of dollars,--being an annual tax of three
+shillings four pence on every soul in the United Kingdom. Nor is the
+case of England an exceptional one. The tobacco-zone girdles the globe.
+From the equator, through fifty degrees of latitude, it grows and is
+consumed on every continent. On every sea it is carried and used by the
+mariners of every nation. Its incense rises in every clime, as from one
+vast altar dedicated to its worship,--before which ancient holocausts,
+the smoke of burnt-offerings in the old Jewish rites, the censers of the
+Church, and the joss-sticks of the East, must "pale their ineffectual
+fires." All classes, all ages, in all climates, and in some countries
+both sexes, use tobacco to dispel heat, to resist cold, to soothe
+to reverie, or to arouse the brain, according to their national
+habitations, peculiarities, or habits.
+
+This is not the language of hyperbole. With a partial exception in favor
+of the hop, tobacco is the _sole recognized narcotic_ of civilization.
+Opium and hemp, if indulged in, are concealed, by the Western nations:
+public opinion, public morality, are at war with them. Not so with
+tobacco, which the majority of civilized men use, and the minority
+rather deprecate than denounce. We shall avail ourselves of some
+statistics and computations, which we find ready-calculated, at various
+sources, to support these assertions. The following are the amounts of
+tobacco consumed _per head_ in various countries:--
+
+"In Great Britain, 17 ounces per head; in France, 18 1/2
+ounces,--three-eighths of this quantity being used in the form of snuff;
+in Denmark, 70 ounces (4 1/2 lbs.) per head; and in Belgium, 73 1/2
+ounces per head;--in New South Wales, where there are no duties, by
+official returns, 14 pounds per head." We doubt if these quantities
+much exceed the European average, particularly of Germany and Turkey in
+Europe. "In some of the States of North America the proportion is much
+larger, while among Eastern nations, where there are no duties, it is
+believed to be greater still."
+
+The average for the whole human race of one thousand millions has been
+reasonably set at seventy ounces per head; which gives a total produce
+and consumption of tobacco of two millions of tons, or 4,480,000,000 of
+pounds! "At eight hundred pounds an acre, this would require five and
+a half million acres of rich land to be kept constantly under
+tobacco-cultivation."
+
+"The whole amount of wheat consumed by the inhabitants of Great Britain
+weighs only four and one-third million tons." The reader can draw his
+own inferences.
+
+The United States are among the largest producers of tobacco, furnishing
+one-twentieth of the estimated production of the whole world. According
+to the last census, we raised in 1850 about two hundred million pounds.
+All the States, with five exceptions,--and two of these are Utah and
+Minnesota,--shared, in various degrees, in the growth of this great
+staple. Confining our attention to those which raised a million of
+pounds and upwards, we find Connecticut and Indiana cited at one million
+each; Ohio and North Carolina, at ten to twelve millions; Missouri,
+Tennessee, and Maryland, from seventeen to twenty-one millions; Kentucky
+and Virginia, about fifty-six million pounds.
+
+Of this gross two hundred million pounds, we export one hundred and
+twenty-two millions, leaving about seventy-eight millions for home
+consumption.
+
+Not satisfied with the quality of this modest amount, we import also,
+from Cuba, Turkey, Germany, etc., about four million pounds, in Havana
+and Manila cigars and Turkish and German manufactured smoking-tobacco.
+Thus we increase the total of our consumption to eighty-two million
+pounds, which gives about three pounds eight ounces to every inhabitant
+of the United States, against seventeen ounces in England, and eighteen
+ounces in France. From 1840 to 1850, the consumption in the United
+States, per head, increased from two pounds and half an ounce to three
+pounds eight ounces. Here, we buy our tobacco at a fair profit to the
+producer. In most of the countries of Europe it is either subject to
+a high tax, or made a government monopoly, both as regards its
+cultivation, and its manufacture and sale. France consumes about
+forty-one million pounds, and the imperial exchequer is thereby enriched
+eighty-six million francs _per annum_. Not only is the poor man thus
+obliged to pay an excessive price, but the tobacco furnished him is of
+a much inferior quality to ours. "_Petit-caporal_" smoking-tobacco, the
+delight of the middling classes of Paris, hardly suits an American's
+taste. In Italy more than one _pubblicano_ has enriched himself and
+bought nobility by farming the public revenues from tobacco and salt. In
+Austria the cigars are detestable, though Hungary grows good tobacco,
+and its Turkish border furnishes some of the meerschaum clay. German
+smoking-tobaccoes are favorites with students here, but owe their
+excellence to their mode of manufacture.
+
+Tobacco, according to some authorities, holds the next place to salt,
+as the article most universally and largely used by man,--we mean,
+of course, apart from cereals and meats. It is unquestionably the
+widest-used narcotic. Opium takes the second rank, and hemp the third;
+but the opium--and hashish-eaters usually add the free smoking of
+tobacco to their other indulgences.
+
+From these great columns of consumption we may logically deduce two
+prime points for our argument.
+
+1st. That an article so widely used must possess some peculiar quality
+producing _a desirable effect_.
+
+2d. That an article so widely used cannot produce _any marked
+deleterious effect_.
+
+For it must meet some instinctive craving of the human being,--as bread
+and salt meet his absolute needs,--to be so widely sought after and
+consumed. Fashion does not rule this habit, but it is equally grateful
+to the savage and the sage. And it cannot be so ruinous to body and mind
+as some reformers assert; otherwise, in the natural progress of causes
+and effects, whole nations must have already been extinguished under
+its use. Many mighty nations have used it for centuries, and show no
+aggregated deterioration from its employment. Individual exceptions
+exist in every community. They arise either from idiosyncrasy or from
+excess, and they have no weight in the argument.
+
+Now, what are these qualities and these effects? We can best answer the
+first part of the question by a quotation.
+
+"In ministering fully to his natural wants and cravings, man passes
+through three successive stages.
+
+"First, the necessities of his material nature are provided for. Beef
+and bread represent the means by which, in every country, this end is
+attained. And among the numerous forms of animal and vegetable food a
+wonderful similarity of chemical composition prevails.
+
+"Second, he seeks to assuage the cares of his mind, and to banish
+uneasy reflections. Fermented liquors are the agents by which this is
+effected." [They are variously produced by every people, and the active
+principle is in all the same, namely, Alcohol.]
+
+"Third, he desires to multiply his enjoyments, intellectual and animal,
+and for the time to exalt them. This he attains by the aid of narcotics.
+And of these narcotics, again, it is remarkable that almost every
+country or tribe has its own, either aboriginal or imported; so that
+the universal instinct of the race has led, somehow or other, to the
+universal supply of this want or craving also."
+
+These narcotics are Opium, Hemp, the Betel, Coca, Thorn-Apple, Siberian
+Fungus, Hops, Lettuce, Tobacco. The active principles vary in each, thus
+differing from foods and stimulants. Our business is now to inquire into
+the chemical constituents of tobacco.
+
+The leaves of this plant owe their properties to certain invariable
+active principles, which chemistry has enabled us to separate from those
+ingredients which are either inert or common to it and other forms of
+vegetation. They are two in number,--a volatile alkali, and a volatile
+oil, called _nicotin_ and _nicotianin_, respectively. A third powerful
+constituent is developed by combustion, which is named the _empyreumatic
+oil_.
+
+Starch, gum, albumen, resin, lignin, extractive, and organic acids exist
+in tobacco, as they do, in varying proportions, in other plants. But
+the herb under consideration contains a relatively larger proportion of
+inorganic salts, as those of lime, potassa, and ammonia,--and especially
+of highly nitrogenized substances; which explains why tobacco is
+so exhausting a crop to the soil, and why ashes are among its best
+fertilizers.
+
+The organic base, _nicotin_, (or _nicotia_, as some chemists prefer to
+call it,) exists in tobacco combined with an acid in excess, and in this
+state is not volatile. As obtained by distillation with caustic soda,
+and afterwards treated with sulphuric acid, etc., it is a colorless
+fluid, volatilizable, inflammable, of little smell when cold, but of an
+exceedingly acrid, burning taste, and alkaline. Nicotia contains a much
+larger proportion of nitrogen than most of the other organic alkalies.
+In its action on the animal system it is one of the most virulent
+poisons known. It exists in varying, though small proportion, in all
+species of tobacco. Those called mild, and most esteemed, seem to
+contain the least. Thus, according to Orfila, Havana tobacco yields two
+per cent of the alkaloid, and Virginia nearly seven per cent. In the
+rankest varieties it rarely exceeds eight parts to the hundred. The
+same toxicologist says that it has the remarkable property of resisting
+decomposition in the decaying tissues of the body, and he detected it in
+the bodies of animals destroyed by it, several months after their death.
+In this particular it resembles arsenic.
+
+_Nicotianin_, or the volatile oil, is probably the odorous principle of
+tobacco. According to some, it does not exist in the fresh leaves, but
+is generated in the drying process. When obtained by distillation, a
+pound of leaves will yield only two grains; it is therefore in a much
+smaller proportion than the alkaloid, forming only one half of one per
+cent. It is a fatty substance, having the odor of tobacco-smoke, and
+a bitter taste. Applied to the nose, it occasions sneezing, and taken
+internally, giddiness and nausea. It is therefore one of the active
+constituents of tobacco, though to a much less degree than nicotin
+itself. For while Hermstadt swallowed a grain of nicotianin with
+impunity, the vapor of pure nicotin is so irritating that it is
+difficult to breathe in a room in which a single drop has been
+evaporated.
+
+When distilled in a retort, at a temperature above that of boiling
+water, or burned, as we burn it in a pipe, tobacco affords its third
+poison, the _empyreumatic oil_. This is acrid, of a dark brown
+color, and having a smell as of an old pipe, in the pores of which,
+particularly of meerschaum clay, it may be found. It is also narcotic
+and very poisonous, one drop killing reptiles, as if by an electric
+shock: in this mode of action it is like prussic acid. But this
+empyreumatic oil consists of two substances; for, if it be washed with
+acetic acid, it loses its poisonous quality. It contains, therefore, a
+harmless oil, and a poisonous alkaline substance, which the acetic acid
+combines with and removes. It has been shown to contain the alkaloid
+nicotia, and this is probably its only active component.
+
+Assuming, therefore, that nicotianin, from its feebler action and small
+amount, is not a very efficient principle in producing the narcotic
+effects of tobacco, and that the empyreumatic oil consists only of fatty
+matters holding the alkali in solution, we are forced to believe that
+the only constituent worthy of much attention, as the very soul and
+essence of the plant, is the organic base, nicotin, or nicotia.
+
+It is probable that the tobacco-chewer, by putting fifty grains of the
+"Solace," "Honey-Dew," or "Cavendish" into his mouth for the purpose
+of mastication, introduces at the same time from one to four grains of
+nicotin with it, according to the quality of the tobacco he uses. It
+is _not_ probable that anything like this amount is absorbed into the
+system. Nature protects itself by salivation. It is possible, that, in
+smoking one hundred grains of tobacco, there _may_ be drawn into
+the mouth two grains or more of the same poison; "for, as nicotin
+volatilizes at a temperature below that of burning tobacco, it is
+constantly present in the smoke." It is not probable that here, again,
+so much is absorbed.
+
+But we will return to this question of the relative effects of chewing,
+cigar- and pipe-smoking, and snuff-taking, presently. For we suppose
+that the anxious mother, if she has followed us so far, is by this time
+in considerable alarm at this wholesale poisoning.
+
+Poisons are to be judged by their effects; for this is the only means we
+have of knowing them to be such. And if a poison is in common use, we
+must embrace all the results of such use in a perfect generalization
+before we can decide impartially. We do not hesitate to eat peaches,
+though we know they owe much of their peculiar flavor to prussic acid.
+It is but fair to apply an equally large generalization to tobacco.
+Chemistry can concentrate the sapid and odorous elements of the peach
+and the bitter almond into a transparent fluid, of which the smell
+shall be vertiginous and the taste death. But chemistry is often
+misunderstood, in two ways: in the one case, by the incredulity of total
+ignorance; in the other, by the overcredulity of imperfect knowledge.
+That poor woman who murdered her husband by arsenic not long since
+was an instance of the first. She laughed to scorn the idea that the
+chemists could discover anything in the ejected contents of the stomach
+of her victim, which she voluntarily left in their way. She could not
+conceive that the scattered crystals of the fatal powder might be
+gathered into a metallic mirror, the first glance at which would reflect
+her guilt.
+
+They who gape, horror-struck, at the endless revelations of chemistry,
+without giving reason time to act, err in the second manner. Led away by
+the brilliant hues and wonderful transformations of the laboratory,
+they forget the size of the world outside, in which these changes are
+enacted, and the quiet way in which Nature works. The breath of chlorine
+is deadly, but we daily eat it in safety, wrapped in its poison-proof
+envelope of sodium, as common salt. Carbonic acid is among the gases
+most hostile to man, but he drinks it in soda-water or Champagne with
+impunity. So we cannot explain how a poison will act, if introduced
+into the body in the diluted form in which Nature offers it, and there
+subjected to the complicated chemico-vital processes which constitute
+life.
+
+In the alembic of the chemist we may learn analysis, and from it infer,
+but not imitate, save in a few instances, the synthesis of Nature.
+Changes in the arrangement of atoms, without one particle altered that
+we can discover, may make all the difference between starch and sugar.
+By an obscure change, which we call fermentation, these may become
+alcohol, the great stimulant of the world. By subtracting one atom of
+water from its elements we change this to ether, the new-found _lethe_
+of pain. As from the inexhaustible bottle of the magician, the chemist
+can furnish us from the same two elements air or aquafortis. We may be
+pardoned these familiar examples to prove that we must not judge of
+things by their palpable qualities, when concentrated or in the gross.
+That fiery demon, nitric acid, is hid, harmless in its imperceptible
+subdivision, in the dew on every flower.
+
+From all this we conclude that the evil effects of tobacco are to be
+determined by their proved _physiological_ effects; and also that we
+must aid our decision by a survey of its general asserted effects. In
+treating of these effects, we shall speak, first, of what is known;
+second, of what its opponents assert; and, third, of what we claim as
+the results of its use.
+
+What is absolutely known is very little. We see occasional instances of
+declining health; we learn that the sufferers smoke or chew, and we are
+very apt to ascribe all their maladies to tobacco. So far as we are
+aware, the most notorious organic lesion which has been supposed due to
+this practice is a peculiar form of cancer of the lip, where the pipe,
+and particularly the clay pipe, has pressed upon the part. But more
+ample statistics have disproved this theory.
+
+We have as yet become acquainted with no satisfactory series of
+experiments upon tobacco analogous to those which have been made of some
+articles of food.
+
+The opponents of tobacco, upon whom we consider the burden of proof to
+rest, in the absence of any marked ill effects palpable in so large a
+consumption of the herb, are thus reduced to generalities.
+
+Tobacco is said to produce derangement of the digestion, and of the
+regular, steady action of the nervous system. These effects must be in a
+measure connected; but one distinct effect of tobacco is claimed, upon
+the secretions of the mouth, with which it comes into direct contact.
+It is said to cause a waste and a deterioration of the saliva. Let us
+examine this first.
+
+The waste of saliva in young smokers and in immoderate chewers we admit.
+The amount secreted by a healthy man has been variously estimated at
+from one and a half to three pounds _per diem_. And it certainly seems
+as if the whole of this was to be found upon the vile floors of
+cars, hotels, and steamboats. The quantity secreted varies much with
+circumstances; but experiments prove the _quality_ to be not affected by
+the amount.
+
+To show how the deterioration of this fluid may affect digestion, we
+must inquire into its normal physiological constitution and uses. Its
+uses are of two kinds: to moisten the food, and to convert starch into
+sugar. The larger glands fulfil the former; the smaller, mostly, the
+latter office. Almost any substance held in the mouth provokes the flow
+of saliva by mechanical irritation. Mental causes influence it; for the
+thought of food will "make the mouth water," as well as its presence
+within the lips. No one who has tried to eat unmoistened food, when
+thirsty, will dispute its uses as a solvent. Tobacco seems to be a
+direct stimulant to the salivary apparatus. Habit blunts this effect
+only to a limited extent. The old smoker has usually some increase of
+this secretion, although he does not expectorate. But if he does not
+waste this product, he swallows it, it is said, in a state unfit to
+promote digestion. The saliva owes its peculiarity to one of its
+components, called _ptyalin_. And this element possesses the remarkable
+power of converting starch into sugar, which is the first step in its
+digestion. Though many azotized substances in a state of decomposition
+exert a similar agency, yet it is possessed by _ptyalin_ in a much
+greater degree. The gastric juice has probably no action on farinaceous
+substances. And it has been proved by experiments, that food moistened
+with water digests more slowly than when mixed with the saliva.
+
+More than this, the conversion of starch into sugar has been shown to
+be positively retarded in the stomach by the acidity of the gastric
+secretions. Only after the azotized food has been somewhat disintegrated
+by the action of the gastric juice, and the fluids again rendered
+alkaline by the presence of saliva, swallowed in small quantities for
+a considerable time after eating, does the saccharifying process go on
+with normal rapidity and vigor.
+
+Now starch is the great element, in all farinaceous articles, which
+is adapted to supply us with calorifacient food. "In its original
+condition, either raw or when broken up by boiling, it does not appear
+that starch is capable of being absorbed by the alimentary canal. By its
+conversion into sugar it can alone become a useful aliment." This is
+effected almost instantaneously by the saliva in the mouth, and at a
+slower rate in the stomach.
+
+Obviously, then, if the use of tobacco interferes with the normal action
+of the saliva, and if the digestion of starch ends in the stomach, here
+is the strong point in the argument of the opponents of tobacco. We
+should wonder at the discrepancy between physiology and facts, theory
+and the evidence of our senses and daily experience among the world
+of smokers, and be ready to renounce either science or "the weed."
+Fortunately for our peace of mind and for our respect for physiology,
+the first point of the proposition is not satisfactorily proved, and the
+second is untrue. We are not certain that nicotin ruins ptyalin; we are
+certain that the functions of other organs are vicarious of those of the
+salivary glands.
+
+We say that it is not satisfactorily proved that tobacco impairs the
+sugar-making function of the saliva. At least, we have never seen the
+proof from recorded experiments. Such may exist, but we have met only
+with loose assertions to this effect, of a similar nature to
+those hygienic _dicta_ which we find bandied about in the
+would-be-physiological popular journals, which are so plentiful in
+this country, and which may be styled the "yellow-cover" literature of
+science.
+
+We acknowledge this to be the weak point in our armor, and are open to
+further light. Yet more, for the sake of hypothesis, we will assume it
+proved. What follows? Are we to get no more sugar while we smoke? By no
+means. Hard by the stomach lies the _pancreas_, an organ so similar in
+structure to the salivary glands, that even so minute an observer as
+Koelliker does not think it requisite to give it a separate description.
+Its secretion, which is poured into the second stomach, contains a
+ferment analogous to that of the saliva, and amounts probably to about
+seven ounces a day. The food, on leaving the stomach, is next subjected
+to its influence, together with that of the bile. It helps digest fatty
+matters by its emulsive powers; it has been more recently supposed to
+form a sort of _peptone_ with nitrogenized articles also; but, what is
+more to our purpose, it turns starch into sugar even more quickly than
+the saliva itself. And even if the reformers were to beat us from this
+stronghold, by proving that tobacco impaired the saccharifying power of
+this organ also, we should still find the mixed fluids supplied by the
+smaller, but very numerous glands of the intestines, sufficient to
+accomplish the requisite modification of starch, though more slowly and
+to a less degree.
+
+We come now to the second count in the indictment,--that tobacco
+injuriously affects the nervous system, and through it the digestion.
+The accusation is here more vague and indefinite, and the answer also
+is less susceptible of proof. Both sides must avail themselves of
+circumstantial, rather than direct evidence.
+
+That digestion is in direct dependence upon the nervous system, and that
+even transitory or emotional states of the latter affect the former,
+there can be no doubt. It is so familiar a fact, that instances need
+hardly be cited to prove it. Hence we are told, that tobacco, by
+deranging the one, disorders the other,--that nervousness, or morbid
+irritability of the nerves, palpitations and tremulousness, are soon
+followed by emaciation and dyspepsia, or more or less inability to
+digest.
+
+We conceive Prout, an eminent authority, to be near the truth, when he
+says of tobacco, "The strong and healthy suffer comparatively little,
+while the weak and predisposed to disease fall victims to its poisonous
+operation." The hod-carrier traversing the walls of lofty buildings, and
+the sailor swinging on the yard-arm, are not subject to nervousness,
+though they smoke and chew; nor are they prone to dyspepsia, unless from
+excesses of another kind.
+
+It has not been shown that tobacco either hastens or delays the
+metamorphosis of tissue,--that it drains the system by waste, or clogs
+it by retarding the natural excretions. We must turn, then, to its
+direct influence upon the nervous system to convince ourselves of its
+ill effects, if such exist.
+
+Nor has it been proved that the nervous influence is affected in such
+a way as directly to impair the innervation of the organic functions,
+which derive their chief impulse to action from the scattered ganglia of
+the sympathetic system. Opium, the most powerful narcotic, benumbs the
+brain into sleep; produces a corresponding reaction, on awakening;
+shuts up the secretions, except that of the skin, and thus deranges the
+alimentary functions. The decriers of tobacco will, we conceive, be
+unable to show that it produces such effects.
+
+The reformers are reduced, then, to the vague generality, that smoking
+and chewing "affect the nerves."
+
+Students, men of sedentary, professional habits, persons of a very
+nervous temperament, or those subject to much excitement in business
+and politics, sometimes show debility and languor, or agitation and
+nervousness, while they smoke and chew. Are there no other causes at
+work, sufficient in themselves to produce these effects? Are want of
+exercise, want of air, want of rest, and want of inherited vigor to be
+eliminated from the estimate, while tobacco is made the scape-goat of
+all their troubles?
+
+Climate, and the various influences affecting any race which has
+migrated after a stationary residence of generations to a new country
+extending under different parallels of latitude, have been reasonably
+accused of rendering us a nervous people. It is not so reasonable to
+charge one habit with being the sole cause of this, although we should
+be more prudent in not following it to excess. The larger consumption
+of tobacco here is due both to the cheapness of the product and to
+the wealth of the consumer. But it does not follow that we are more
+subjected to its narcotic influences because we use the best varieties
+of the weed. On the contrary, the poor and rank tobaccoes, grown under a
+northern sky, are the richest in nicotin.
+
+But it will be better to continue the argument about its effects upon
+the nervous system in connection with the assertions of the reformers.
+The following is a list, by no means complete, of these asserted ill
+effects from its use.
+
+Tobacco is said to cause softening of the brain,--dimness of
+vision,--("the Germans smoke; the Germans are a _spectacled_ nation!"
+_post hoc, ergo propter hoc?_ the laborious intellectual habits of this
+people, and their trying "text," are considered of no account,)--cancer
+of the stomach,--disease of the liver,--dyspepsia,--enfeebled
+nutrition, and consequent emaciation,--dryness of the mouth,--"the
+clergyman's sore-throat" and loss of voice,--irritability of the nervous
+system,--tremulousness,--palpitation and paralysis,--and, among the
+moral ills, loss of energy, idleness, drunkenness. A fearful catalogue,
+which would dedicate the _tabatiere_ to Pandora, were it true.
+
+Hygienic reformers are usually unequalled in imaginary horrors, except
+by the charlatans who vend panaceas.
+
+We have no reasons for believing that tobacco causes softening of the
+brain equal in plausibility to those which ascribe it to prolonged and
+excessive mental effort. The statistics of disease prove cancers of
+other organs to be twice as frequent, among females, as cancer of the
+stomach is among males; and an eminent etiologist places narcotics
+among the least proved causes of this disease. A hot climate, abuse
+of alcohol, a sedentary life, and sluggish digestion happen, rather
+curiously, to be very frequent concomitants, if not causes, of disease
+of the liver. Dyspepsia haunts both sexes, and, we venture to assert,
+though we cannot bring figures to prove it, is as frequent among those
+who do not use tobacco as among those who do. We are ready to concede
+that excessive chewing and smoking, particularly if accompanied by large
+expectoration, may impair nutrition and cause emaciation: that the mass
+of mankind eat and digest and live, as well as use "the weed," is proof
+that its moderate employment is not ordinarily followed by this result.
+Dryness of the mouth follows expectoration as a matter of course; but
+the salivation excited in an old smoker by tobacco is very moderate, and
+not succeeded by thirst, unless the smoke be inhaled too rapidly and at
+too high a temperature.
+
+We come next to a very tender point with reformers, the laryngeal cough
+and failing voice of the reverend clergy. The later generations of
+ministers of this vicinity, as a body, have abandoned tobacco, and yet
+the evil has not diminished. An eminent divine of our acquaintance,
+who does not smoke daily, always finds a cigar relieve a trifling
+bronchitis, to which he is occasionally subject The curious will find in
+the "Medical Journal" of this city, for 1839, that quite as much can be
+said on one side as on the other of this subject.
+
+The minor, rarely the graver affections of the nervous system, do follow
+the use of tobacco in excess. We admit this willingly; but we deny these
+effects to its moderate use by persons of ordinary health and of no
+peculiar idiosyncrasy. Numerous cases of paralysis among tobacco-takers
+in France were traced to the lead in which the preparation was
+enveloped.
+
+We pass next to what we claim as the effects of _moderate_
+tobacco-using, and will take first the evidence of the toxicologists.
+Both Pereira and Christison agree that "no well-ascertained ill effects
+have been shown to result from the habitual practice of smoking." Beck,
+a modern authority, says, "Common observation settles the question, that
+the moderate and daily use of tobacco _does not_ prove injurious. This
+is a general rule": and he adds, that exceptions necessarily exist, etc.
+
+The repugnance and nausea which greet the smoker, in his first attempts
+to use tobacco, are not a stronger argument against it than the fact
+that the system so soon becomes habituated to these effects is a proof
+of its essential innocuousness.
+
+Certainly the love of tobacco is not an instinctive appetite, like that
+for nitrogen and carbon in the form of food. Man was not born with a
+cigar in his mouth, and it is not certain that the _Nicotiana tabacum_
+flourished in the Garden of Eden. But history proves the existence of
+an instinct among all races--call it depraved, if you will, the fact
+remains--leading them to employ narcotics. And narcotics all nations
+have sought and found. We venture to affirm that tobacco is harmless as
+any. The betel and the hop can alone compare with it in this respect;
+and the hop is not a narcotic which satisfies alone; others are used
+with it. Opium and Indian hemp are not to be mentioned in comparison;
+while coca, in excess, is much more hurtful.
+
+Tobacco may more properly be called a sedative than a narcotic. Opium,
+the type of the latter class, is in its primary action excitant, but
+secondarily narcotic. The opium-eaters are familiar with this, and
+learn by experience to regulate the dose so as to prolong the first and
+shorten the second effects, as much as possible.
+
+Tobacco, on the other hand, is primarily sedative and relaxing. A high
+authority says of its physiological action:--
+
+"First, That its greater and first effect is to assuage and allay and
+soothe the system in general.
+
+"Second, That its lesser and second, or after effect, is to excite and
+invigorate, and at the same time give steadiness and fixity to the
+powers of thought."
+
+Either of these effects will predominate, we conceive, according to
+the intellectual state and capacity of the individual, as well as in
+accordance with the amount used.
+
+The dreamy Oriental is sunk into deeper reverie under the influence of
+tobacco, and his happiness while smoking seems to consist in thinking of
+nothing. The studious German, on the contrary, "thinks and dreams,
+and dreams and thinks, alternately; but while his body is soothed and
+stilled, his mind is ever awake."
+
+This latter description resembles, to compare small things with great,
+the effects of opium, as detailed by De Quincey.
+
+"In habitual smokers," says Pereira, "the practice, when moderately
+indulged, produces that remarkably soothing and tranquillizing effect on
+the mind which has caused it to be so much admired and adopted by all
+classes of society."
+
+The pleasure derived from tobacco is very hard to define, since it is
+negative rather than positive, and to be estimated more by what it
+prevents than by what it produces. It relieves the little vexations and
+cares of life, soothes the harassed mind, and promotes quiet reflection.
+This it does most of all when used sparingly and after labor. But
+if incessantly consumed, it keeps up a constant, but mild cerebral
+exhilaration. The mind acts more promptly and more continuously under
+its use. We think any tobacco-consumer will bear us out in this
+definition of its varying effects.
+
+After a full meal, if it does not help, it at least hides digestion.
+"It settles one's dinner," as the saying is, and gives that feeling of
+quiet, luxurious _bien-aise_ which would probably exist naturally in
+a state of primeval health. It promotes, with most persons, the
+peristaltic movements of the alimentary passages by its relaxing
+properties.
+
+Smoking is eminently social, and favors domestic habits. And in this
+way, we contend, it prevents drinking, rather than leads to it. Many
+still associate the cigar with the bar-room. This notion should have
+become obsolete ere this, for it has an extremely limited foundation in
+fact. Bachelors and would-be-manly boys are not the only consumers of
+tobacco, though they are the best patrons of the bar. The poor man's
+pipe retains him by his own fireside, as well as softens his domestic
+asperities.
+
+Excess in tobacco, like excess in any other material good meant for
+moderate use, is followed by evil effects, more or less quickly,
+according to the constitution and temperament of the abuser. The
+lymphatic and obese can smoke more than the sanguine and nervous, with
+impunity. How much constitutes excess varies with each individual.
+Manufacturers of tobacco do not appear to suffer. Christison states, as
+the result of the researches of MM. Parent-Duchatelet and D'Arcet among
+four thousand workmen in the tobacco-manufactories of France, that they
+found no evidence of its being unwholesome. Moderate tobacco-users
+attain longevity equal to that of any other class in the community.
+
+We will cite only the following brief statistics from an old physician
+of a neighboring town. In looking over the list of the oldest men, dead
+or alive, within his circle of acquaintance, he finds a total of 67 men,
+from 73 to 93 years of age. Their average age is 78 and a fraction. Of
+these 67, 54 were smokers or chewers; 9 only, non-consumers of tobacco;
+and 4 were doubtful, or not ascertained. About nine-elevenths smoked or
+chewed. The compiler quaintly adds, "How much longer these men might
+have lived without tobacco, it is impossible to determine."
+
+The tobacco-leaf is consumed by man usually in three ways: by smoking,
+snuffing, or chewing. The first is the most common; the last is the most
+disagreeable.
+
+Tobacco is smoked in the East Indies, China, and Siam; in Turkey and
+Persia; over Europe generally; and in North and South America. Cigars
+are preferred in the East and West Indies, Spain, England, and America.
+China, Turkey, Persia, and Germany worship the pipe. In Europe the pipe
+is patronized on account of its cheapness. Turks and Persians use the
+mildest forms of pipe-smoking, choosing pipes with long, flexible stems,
+and having the smoke cooled and purified by passing through water. The
+Germans prefer the porous meerschaum,--the Canadians, the common clay.
+Women smoke habitually in China, the East and West Indies, and to a less
+extent in South America, Spain, and France.
+
+We have no fears that any reasoning of ours would induce the other
+sex to use tobacco. The ladies set too just a value on the precious
+commodity of their charms for that. There is little danger that they
+would do anything which might render them disagreeable. The practice of
+snuff-taking is about the only form they patronize, and that to a slight
+extent.
+
+France is the home of snuff. A large proportion of all the tobacco
+consumed there is used in this form. The practice prevails to a large
+extent also in Iceland and Scotland. The Icelander uses a small horn,
+like a powder-horn, to hold his snuff. Inserting the smaller end into
+the nostril, he elevates the other, and thus conveys the pungent powder
+directly to the part. The more delicate Highlander carries the snuff to
+his nose on a little shovel. This can be surpassed only by the habit
+of "dipping," peculiar to some women of the United States, and whose
+details will not bear description.
+
+Chewing prevails _par excellence_ in our own country, and among the
+sailors of most nations,--to some extent also in Switzerland, Iceland,
+and among the Northern races. It is the safest and most convenient form
+at sea.
+
+By smoking, each of the three active ingredients of tobacco is rendered
+capable of absorption. The empyreumatic oil is produced by combustion.
+The pipe retains this and a portion of the nicotin in its pores. The
+cigar, alone, conveys all the essential elements into the system.
+
+Liebig once asserted that cigar-smoking was prejudicial from the
+amount of gaseous carbon inhaled. We cannot believe this. The heat of
+cigar-smoke may have some influence on the teeth; and, on the whole, the
+long pipe, with a porous bowl, is probably the best way of using tobacco
+in a state of ignition.
+
+By repeated fermentations in preparing snuff, much of the nicotin is
+evaporated and lost. Yet snuff-takers impair the sense of smell, and
+ruin the voice, by clogging up the passages with the finer particles of
+the powder. The functions of the labyrinthine caverns of the nose and
+forehead, and of the delicate osseous laminae which constitute the
+sounding-boards of vocalization, are thus destroyed.
+
+Chewing is the most constant, as it is the nastiest habit. The old
+chewer, safe in the blunted irritability of the salivary glands, can
+continue his practice all night, if he be so infatuated, without
+inconvenience. In masticating tobacco, nicotin and nicotianin are rolled
+about in the mouth with the quid, but are not probably so quickly
+absorbed as when in the gaseous state. Yet chewers are the greatest
+spitters, and have a characteristic drooping of the angle of the lower
+lip, which points to loss of power in the _leavator_ muscles.
+
+Latakia, Shiraz, Manila, Cuba, Virginia, and Maryland produce the most
+valuable tobaccoes. Though peculiar soils and dressings may impart
+a greater aroma and richness to the plant, by the variations in the
+quantity of nicotianin, as compared with the other organic elements, yet
+we are inclined to think that the diminished proportion of nicotin in
+the best varieties in the cause of their superior flavor to the rank
+Northern tobaccoes, and that it is mainly because they are milder that
+they are most esteemed. So, too, the cigar improves with age, because
+a certain amount of nicotin evaporates and escapes. Taste in cigars
+varies, however, from the Austrian government article, a very rank
+"long-nine," with a straw running through the centre to improve its
+suction, to the Cuban _cigarrito_, whose ethereal proportions three
+whiffs will exhaust.
+
+The manufacture of smoking-tobaccoes is as much and art in Germany as
+getting up a fancy brand of cigars is here; and the medical philosopher
+of that country will gravely debate whether "Kanaster" or "Varinas" be
+best suited for certain forms of convalescence; tobacco being almost
+as indispensable as gruel, in returning health. We think the
+light pipe-smoker will find a combination of German and Turkish
+smoking-tobaccoes a happy thought. The old smoker may secure the best
+union of delicacy and strength in the Virginia "natural leaf."
+
+Among the eight or ten species of the tobacco-plant now recognized by
+botanists, the _Nicotiana tabacum_ and the _Nicotiana rustica_ hold the
+chief place. Numerous varieties of each of these, however, are named and
+exist.
+
+We condense from De Bow's "Industrial Resources of the South and West" a
+brief account of tobacco-culture in this country. "The tobacco is best
+sown from the 10th to the 20th of March, and a rich loam is the most
+favorable soil. The plants are dressed with a mixture of ashes, plaster,
+soot, salt, sulphur, soil, and manure." After they are transplanted,
+we are told that "the soil best adapted to the growth of tobacco is a
+light, friable one, or what is commonly called a sandy loam; not too
+flat, but rolling, undulating land." Long processes of hand-weeding must
+be gone through, and equal parts of plaster and ashes are put on each
+plant. "Worms are the worst enemy," and can be effectually destroyed
+only by hand. "When the plant begins to yellow, it is time to put it
+away; and it is cut off close to the ground." After wilting a little on
+the ground, it is dried on sticks, by one of the three processes called
+"pegging, spearing, and splitting." "When dry, the leaves are stripped
+off and tied in bundles of one fifth or sixth of a pound each. It is
+sorted into three or four qualities, as Yellow, Bright, Dull, etc."
+Next it is "bulked," or put into bundles, and these again dried, and
+afterwards "conditioned," and packed in hogsheads weighing from six
+hundred to a thousand pounds each.
+
+It would be too long to detail the processes of cigar- and snuff-making,
+the latter of which is quite complicated.
+
+We were happy to learn from the fearful work of Hassall on "Food and
+its Adulterations," that tobacco was one of the articles least tampered
+with; and particularly that there was no opium in cheroots, but nothing
+more harmful than hay and paper. He ascribes this immunity mainly to
+the vigilance of the excisemen. But we have recently seen a work on
+the adulteration of tobacco, whose microscopic plates brought back our
+former misgivings. Molasses is a very common agent used to give color
+and render it toothsome. Various vegetable leaves, as the rhubarb,
+beech, walnut, and mullein, as well as the less delectable bran, yellow
+ochre, and hellebore, in snuff, are also sometimes used to defraud.
+Saltpetre is often sprinkled on, in making cigars, to improve their
+burning.
+
+The Indians mixed tobacco in their pipes with fragrant herbs. Cascarilla
+bark is a favorite with some smokers; it is a simple aromatic and
+tonic, but, when smoked, is said sometimes to occasion vertigo and
+intoxication.
+
+We have before observed that tobacco is a very exhausting crop to the
+soil. The worn-out tobacco-plantations of the South are sufficient
+practical proof of this, while it is also readily explained by
+chemistry. The leaves of tobacco are among the richest in incombustible
+ash, yielding, when burned, from 19 to 28 _per cent_. of inorganic
+substance. This forms the abundant ashes of tobacco-pipes and of cigars.
+All this has been derived from the soil where it was raised, and it is
+of a nature very necessary to vegetation, and not very abundant in the
+most fertile lands. "Every ton of dried tobacco-leaves carries off from
+four to five hundred-weight of this mineral matter,--as much as is
+contained in fourteen tons of the grain of wheat." It follows
+that scientific agriculture can alone restore this waste to the
+tobacco-plantation.
+
+There is one other aspect of this great subject, which is almost
+peculiar to New England, the home of reform. Certain Puritanical
+pessimists have argued that the use of tobacco is immoral. There are
+few, except our own sober people, who would admit this question at
+all. We would treat this prejudice with the respect due to all sincere
+reforms. And we have attempted to show, that, since all races have used
+and will use narcotics, we had better yield a little, lest more be
+taken, and concede them tobacco, which is more harmless than many that
+are largely consumed. We have proved to our own satisfaction, and we
+hope to theirs, that tobacco _in moderation_ neither affects the health
+nor shortens life; that it does not create an appetite for stimulants,
+but rather supplies their place; and that it favors sociality and
+domestic habits more than the reverse.
+
+If the formation of any habit be objected to, we reply, that this is
+a natural tendency of man, that things become less prejudicial by
+repetition, and that a high hygienic authority advises us "to be regular
+even in our vices."
+
+As we began in a light, we close in a more sober vein, apologists for
+tobacco, rather than strongly advocating either side. On one point we
+are sure that we shall agree with the ladies, and that is in a sincere
+denunciation of the habit of smoking at a tender age. And although, in
+accordance with the tendency of the times, the school-boy whom we caught
+attached to a "long-nine" would consistently reply, _"Civis Americanus
+sum_!" we shall persist in claiming the censorship of age over those on
+whose chins the callow down of adolescence is yet ungrown.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+SHAKSPEARE DONE INTO FRENCH.
+
+
+In the first place, it really was an immense success, and Shylock, or
+Sheeloque, as they dubbed him, was called before the curtain seven
+times, and in most appropriate humility nearly laid his nose on his
+insteps as he bowed, and quite showed his spine.
+
+It certainly was like Shakspeare in this, that it had five acts; but
+when I have made that concession, and admitted that Sheeloque was
+_Le Juif de Venise_, I think I have named all the cardinal points of
+similarity in the "Merchant of Venice" and "Le Juif" of that same
+unwholesome place. To be sure, there is a suspicion of _le devin
+Williams_, as they will call him, continually cropping out; but a
+conscientious man would not swear to one line of it, and I do not
+think Shakspeare would be justified in suing the French author for
+compensation under the National Copyright-Act. I speak of Shakspeare as
+existing, because it is my belief he does, in a manner so to speak.
+
+I have intimated that "Le Juif" has five acts; but I have not yet
+committed myself to the assertion that he was in seven _tableaux_, and
+possessed a prologue.
+
+It is now my pleasing duty to force you through the five acts, and the
+one prologue, and the seven _tableaux_,--every one of them.
+
+This prologue is divided as to the theatre into two parts: to left,
+Sheeloque's domestic interior,--to right, a practicable canal. In the
+very first line out crops Shylock's love of good bargains; and I
+give the reader my word, the little Frenchmen saw that this was
+characteristic, and applauded vehemently. _"Bon_," said I,--"if they
+applaud the first line, what will they do with the last act?"
+
+It need not be said that Shylock dabbles in those bills which Venetian
+swells of the fifteenth century, in common with those of a later age
+and more western land, will manipulate, in spite of all the political
+economy from Confucius down to Mr. Mill; and in this particular instance
+and prologue the names of the improvidents are Leone and Ubaldo, neither
+of which, if my memory serve me, is Shakspearian. These gentlemen
+considerably shake my traditional respect for sixteenth-century
+Venetian _Aristos_, for they insult that Jew till I wonder where a count
+and a duke have learnt such language: but they serve a purpose; they
+trot Shylock out, so to speak, and give our author an opportunity
+of doing his best with A 1. Shylock's great speech. Here is the
+apostrophe:--
+
+"But yesterday--no later past than yesterday--thou didst bid thy
+mistress call at me from her balcony; thy servants by thy will did cast
+mud on me, and thy hounds sped snapping after me,'"--whereby we may infer
+they went hunting in Venice, in the fifteenth century. It must have been
+rather dangerous running. Nor could the Venetian nobles of that good old
+time have been very proper; for Leone and Ubaldo justify themselves by
+saying they were drunk.
+
+It is after this pretty excuse that Shylock has a soliloquy as long as
+his beard,--and I hear really loud opposition to this didacticism in the
+pit; but, however, this slow work soon meets compensation in violent
+action. Shylock won't renew, and the nobles get indignant; so they
+propose to pay Shylock with more kicks than halfpence. Here the action
+begins; for Shylock protests he will bite a bit out of them; and though
+one of these long-sleeved swells warns him that all threats by Jews
+against Christians are an imprisonment manner, Shylock rashly prepares
+for a defence. Away fly the lords after Shylock, over go the chairs,
+down goes the table, and I suppose Shylock _does_ hit "one of them"; for
+the two lords go off quite triumphantly, with the intimation that he
+will be in prison in one hour from that.
+
+Then the Jew calls for--Sarah; and this same comes in on tiptoe, for
+fear of waking the baby. This Shylock _fils_ Sarah proceeds to describe
+as equally beautiful with Abel and Moses, which seems to give Shylock
+_pere_ great comfort,--though I am bound to admit the lowly whispered
+doubt on the part of a pit-neighbor of mine as to Sarah's capability of
+judging in the matter.
+
+Shylock is preparing for prison, it seems, and one little necessity is a
+prayer for said son. Sarah comes in with a response, Shylock leaves
+off praying "immediate," to tell Sarah she is no vulgar servant, which
+assurance is received in the tearful manner. And here it comes a
+little faint whiff of the real play. In leaving home, Shylock's French
+plagiarizes the Jew's speech to Jessica, even down to the doubt the Jew
+has about leaving his house at all.
+
+There has been no necessity for stating that Sara supposes herself the
+widow of a libel on his sex, a man unspeakable; and the moment I hear he
+is, or was, a man of crime unspeakable, I know he will turn up. Shylock
+having gone away,--I do not know where,--up comes a gondola to the
+front-door, and, of course, in walks Sarah's husband. "Good evening,
+Ma'am," says he. "God of Israel!" says she. And then such an explanation
+as this infamous husband gives! He puts in, that he is a pirate; that
+his captain, whom he describes as a _Venus en corsaire_, has lost a
+son, and wants another; hence speaker, name Arnheim, wants that little
+Israelite who is so much like Abel and Moses at one and the same moment:
+though how Arnheim should know of that little creation, or how he should
+know him to be also like the lost infantile pirate as well as Abel and
+Moses, does not sufficiently appear,--as, indeed, my neighbor, who is
+suggestive of a Greek Chorus in a blue blouse, discovers in half a dozen
+disparaging syllables.
+
+Of course, when the supposed widow hears this, her cries ought to wake
+up all hearing Venice, but not one Venetian comes to her aid; and though
+she uses her two hands enough for twenty, she has not got her way when
+thoroughly breathed.
+
+"Sarah," says that energetic woman's husband, "Sarah, don't be a fool!"
+
+Then I know the baby is coming: there never yet was a French prologue
+without a baby,--it seems a French unity; sometimes there are two
+babies, who always get mixed up. But to our business.
+
+Out comes the baby, (they never scream,) and--alas that for effect he
+should thus commit himself!--Arnheim rips Sarah up, and down she goes as
+dead as the Queen of Sheba.
+
+Then comes a really fine scene. Shylock enters, learns all; in come
+soldiers for Shylock, and, of course, accuse him of the murder;
+whereupon Shylock shows on the blade a cross. "Doth a Jew wear a knife
+with a cross on it?" says he. "Go to!--'tis a Christian murder."
+
+To this the soldier-head has nothing to say; so he hurries Shylock off
+to prison, and down comes the curtain.
+
+"Hum!" says the Greek Chorus,--"it might be worse."
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+It is clear there must be lady characters, or I am quite sure the Greek
+Chorus would find fault wofully,--and the only one we have had, Sarah,
+to wit, can't decently appear again, except in the spiritual form. Well,
+there is the original Portia,--alas for that clever, virtuous, and
+noble lady!--how is she fallen in the French!--she is noble-looking and
+clever,--but the third quality, oh, dear me! This disreputable is named
+Imperia, and the real Bassanio becomes one Honorius, who is, as he
+should be, the bosom friend of one Andronic, which is Antonio, I would
+have you know. I have thought over it two minutes, and have come to the
+conclusion that the less I say about Imperia the better, and I know the
+Anglo-Saxon would not agree with Imperia,--but, as the Frenchman does,
+I offer you one, or part of one of Imperia's songs, as bought by me for
+two disgraceful _sous_.
+
+ "Deja l'aube rayonne et luit,
+ La nuit
+ Finit;
+ Maitresse,
+ L'heure enchanteresse
+ Passe et fuit...
+ A ton arret je dois me rendre.
+ Sort jaloux! (_bis._)
+ Hatons-nous,
+ Il faut descendre
+ Sans reveiller son vieil epoux!..."
+
+Well,--what do you think of it? Now I will not mention her again,--I
+will refer to her, when I shall have vexatious occasion, as "that
+woman." And, indeed, "that woman" and Honorius set us up in
+comprehension of matters progressing. It seems that quite twenty years
+have passed since Sarah's soul slid through a knife-gash; that Honorius
+and Andronic, who have come from Smyrna, (why?) are almost brothers;
+that Honorius is good in this fact only, that he knows he is really bad;
+and that Andronic is the richest and most moral man in Venice,--though
+why, under those circumstances, he should be friendly with such a rip as
+Honorius, Honorius does not inform us.
+
+I shall pass over the next scenes, and come to that in which all the
+creditors of all the lords are brought on to the stage in a state which
+calls for the interference of the Doge: they are all drunk,--except
+Shylock. This scene really is a startler. Shylock, now dashed with
+gray, and nearly double, comes up to "that woman" and calls her sister;
+whereupon she demanding that explanation which I and the Greek Chorus
+simultaneously want, Shylock states that _he_ is Usury and _she_ Luxury,
+"and they have one father."
+
+"Queer old man!!!" says "that woman."
+
+Here follow dice, in which the Jew is requested to join, all of which
+naturally brings about a discussion on the rate of usage, which that
+dog Andronic is bringing down, and a further statement that _that_
+imprisonment lasted two years. Then comes a _coup d'theatre_: Shylock
+reminds everybody that a just Doge reigns now, (nor can I help pointing
+out the Frenchman's ingenuity here: in the _play_, the Doge must be
+just, or where would the pound of flesh be?--while, if the Doge of the
+_prologue_ were just, Shylock would not have been committed for two
+years,--ergo, kill No. 1. Doge, install No. 2.)--Shylock reminds
+everybody that a just Doge reigns. Shylock has it all his own way, and
+Honorius is arrested before the very eyes of "that woman." Then comes
+the necessary _Deus ex machina_ in the shape of Andronic, who pays
+everybody everything, saves his friend, and play proceeds. Andronic
+reproaches Jew touching his greed, whereon the Jew offers this not
+profound remark,--"I am--what I am,"--and goes on counting his money.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the secret!
+
+This cash payment winds up the act.
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+Decidedly, the beginning of Act Second proves Andronic is no fool, for
+he advises Honorius to flee that creature,--and what better advice in
+those matters is there than that of retreating? Decidedly, too,
+the virtuous Doge is worth having,--really a Middle-Age electric
+telegraph,--for he gives all about him such a dose of news as in this
+day would sell every penny-paper printed: and such bad news!--Venice
+down everywhere, and a loan wanted. Here comes a fine scene for
+Andronic, (for, after all, the lords have "hitched out" of the proposed
+loan, whereby I take it they are not such fools as people take them to
+be,)--Andronic declares, that, if he were rich enough, the Doge should
+not ask for money, but ships are but frail and his have gone to pieces.
+Here, you see, comes another faint whiff of the real original play.
+
+Then, clearly, the Doge can only apply to the Jews. Enter Shylock _a
+propos_. The next scene is so awful to the Greek Chorus, who may be of a
+business turn, that I am charitable enough not to reproduce it here;
+but the percentage the Jew wants for the loan seems to be quite a
+multiplication-table of tangible securities, and I only wonder the Doge
+does not order him into the Adriatic. Amongst other demands, the Jew
+procures all the Dogic jewels,--and then he wants all the jewels of the
+Doge's daughter; indeed, Shylock becomes a most unreasonable party.
+
+No sooner does he speak of the daughter, Ginevra by name, than in she
+comes, jewel-casket in hand,--which leads the cynical Greek Chorus to
+suppose that Mademoiselle is either _clairvoyante_ or prefers going
+about with a box. The way in which that best of her sex offers up the
+jewels on the patriotic shrine is really worthy of the applause bestowed
+on the act; but when that pig of a Jew is not satisfied, when he insists
+upon the diamond necklace Ginevra wears, as another preliminary to the
+loan, people in the theatre quite shake with indignation.
+
+Now the jewel has been the pattern young lady's mother's; and here comes
+an opening for that appeal to the filial love of Frenchmen which is
+never touched in vain. It is really a great and noble trait in the
+French character, that filial love, not too questionable to be
+demonstrative,--'tis a sure dramatist's French card, that appeal to the
+love of mothers and fathers by their children.
+
+Having procured the weight of this chain, which has caused Shylock the
+loss of many friends in the house who have been inclined to like him
+consequent upon the loss of that Abel-Moses-photograph,--Shylock departs
+with this information, that he will bring the money to-morrow: which
+assertion proves Shylock to be a strong man, if a hundred thousand marks
+are as heavy as I take them to be.
+
+Upon what little things do dramas, in common with lives, turn!
+That necklace is the brilliant groundwork of the rest of the plot.
+Why--why--why--WHY didn't Shakspeare think of the necklace?
+
+And as I always must tell love-affairs as soon as I hear of them,--for,
+as a rule, I live in country towns,--I may at once state that Ginevra
+loved Andronic, and latter loved former, and they would not tell each
+other, and the Doge knew nothing about it.
+
+Yes, decidedly, the necklace is the first character in "Le Juif de
+Venise." You see, Ginevra loved the necklace, and Andronic loved
+Ginevra; so he is forced to procure that charming necklace for her,
+_coute qui coute_, and so he goes to Shylock for it. And here you will
+see its value: Shylock will sell it only for a large sum. Andronic,
+seeing his losses, hasn't the money,--but will have;--glorious opening
+for the clause about the pound of flesh! Signed, sealed, and delivered.
+How superior is Andronic to Antonio, the old ----! This latter pawns his
+breast for a friend only: the great Andronic risks the flesh about _his_
+heart for sacred love. Io Venus!
+
+Yet, nevertheless, notwithstanding, it is the opinion of the Greek
+Chorus that Andronic is a _joli_ fool,--which choral remark I hear
+with pain, as reflecting upon unhesitating love, and especially as the
+remarker has been eminently touched at the abduction.
+
+
+ACT IV.
+
+
+As for the Fourth Act,--it is very tender and terrible.
+
+I need not say that the tenderness arises through the necklace,--and
+indeed, for that matter, so also does the terror. Touching the first, of
+course it is the discovery by Ginevra of the return of those maternal
+diamonds,--which are handed to her by a _femme-de-chambre_, who has
+had them from Andronic's _valet-de-chambre_, who is in love with the
+_femme-de-chambre_, who reciprocates, etc., etc., etc.
+
+But touching the terrible,--"that woman" hears of the necklace, and
+sends Honorius for it to Shylock. Bad job!--gone! Well, then, Honorius
+falls out with his old friend Andronic because latter will not yield up
+the necklace. Honorius demands to know who has it. Andronic will not
+name Ginevra's name before "that woman" and all the lofty lords, and
+then there's a grand scene.
+
+In the first place, it seems that in Shylock's Venetian time, the
+Venetian lords, when obliging Venice with a riot, called upon Venetians
+to put out their lights, and this the lords now do, (we are on the
+piazza,) and out go all the lights as though turned off at one main.
+
+Then there is such a scrimmage! Honorius lunges at Andronic; this latter
+disarms former; then latter comes to his senses, flies over to his old
+friend, and all the Venetian brawlers are put to flight.
+
+Then Honorius says,--and pray, pray, mark what Honorius says, or you
+will _never_ comprehend Act V.,--then Honorius says, taking Andronic's
+previous advice about flying, "I will go away, _and fight the Adriatic
+pirates_." Now, pray, don't forget that. I quite distress myself in
+praying you not to forget that,--to wit,--"_Honorius goes away to fight
+the Adriatic pirates._"
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+
+ACT V.
+
+
+This, of course, is the knifing act.
+
+Seated is Shylock before an hour-glass, and trying to count the grains
+of sand as they glide through.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+You remember that in that original play Antonio's ships are lost merely.
+Bah! we manage better in this matter: the ships come home, but they are
+empty,--emptied by the pirates; though why those Adriaticians did not
+confiscate the ships is even beyond the Greek Chorus, who says, "They
+were very polite."
+
+At last all the sand is at rest.
+
+Crack,--as punctual as a postman comes Andronic; and as the Venetians
+are revolting against the flesh business, about which they seem to know
+every particular, Andronic brings a guard of the just Doge's soldiers
+to keep the populace quiet while the business goes on;--all of which
+behavior on the merchant's part my friend the Chorus pronounces to be
+stupid and suicidal.
+
+Then comes such a scene!--Andronic calling for Ginevra, and the Jew
+calling for his own.
+
+Breast bared.
+
+Then thus the Jew:--
+
+"Feeble strength of my old body, be centred in this eye and this arm!
+Thou, my son, receive this sacrifice, and tremble with joy in thy
+unknown tomb!"
+
+Knife raised.
+
+Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
+
+And I _do_ hope you have not forgotten that Honorius went away to fight
+the Adriatic pirates.
+
+For, if you have forgotten that fact, you will not comprehend Honorius's
+rushing in at this moment from the Adriatic pirates.
+
+Yes,--but why did he go amongst them?
+
+The big secret, in fact. If Honorius had not gone, why, I suppose
+Shylock would have had his pound of man.
+
+As it is, Honorius and his paper--which latter has also come from the
+pirates--do the business.
+
+Why, the whole thing turns on the paper. How lucky it was Honorius went
+amongst the pirates!
+
+Honorius has vanquished the chief of the pirates,--who was named
+Arnheim,--and that disreputable widower, just before his last breath,
+gave Honorius the said paper,--though why, it is not clear. And--and
+this paper shows that ANDRONIC IS THAT SON STOLEN AWAY FROM SARAH,
+DECEASED, AND SHYLOCK,--THAT SON, NOT ONLY THE IMAGE OF ABEL, BUT OF
+MOSES, TOO.
+
+Great thunderbolts!
+
+Then, very naturally, (in a play,) in come all the characters, and
+follows, I am constrained to say, a very well-conceived scene,--'tis
+another appeal to filial love. The Jew would own his son, but he
+remembers that it would injure the son, and so he keeps silent. I
+declare, there is something eminently beautiful in the idea of making
+the Jew yield his wealth up to Andronic, and saying he will wander from
+Venice,--his staff his only wealth. And when, as he stoops to kiss his
+son's hand, Ginevra (who of course has come on with the rest) makes a
+gesture as though she feared treachery, the few words put into the Jew's
+mouth are full of pathos and poetry.
+
+And so down comes the curtain,--the piece meeting with the full approval
+of Chorus, who applauded till I thought he would snap his hands off at
+the wrists.
+
+"A very moral play," said a stout gentleman behind me,--who had done
+little else all night but break into the fiercest of apples and
+pears,--"a very moral play,"--meaning thereby, probably, that it was
+very moral that a Jew's child should remain a Christian.
+
+Now there were some good points in that play; but, oh, thou M. Ferdinand
+Dugue, thou,--why didst thou challenge comparison with a man who wrote
+for all theatres for all times?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+THE POET'S SINGING.
+
+
+ In heat and in cold, in sunshine and rain,
+ Bewailing its loss and boasting its gain,
+ Blessing its pleasure and cursing its pain,
+ The hurrying world goes up and down:
+ Every avenue and street
+ Of city and town
+ Are veins that throb with the restless beat
+ Of the eager multitude's trampling feet.
+ Men wrangle together to get and hold
+ A sceptre of power or a crock of gold;
+ Blaspheming God's name with the breath He gave,
+ And plotting revenge on the brink of the grave!
+ And Fashion's followers, flitting after,
+ O'ertake and pass the funeral train,
+ Thoughtlessly scattering jests and laughter,
+ Like sharp, quick showers of hail and rain,
+ To beat on the hearts that are bleeding with pain!
+ And many who stare at the close-shut hearse
+ Envy the dead within,--or, worse,
+ Turn away with a keener zest
+ To grapple and revel and sin with the rest!
+ While far apart in a bower of green,
+ Unheeded, unseen,
+ A warbling bird on the topmost bough
+ Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
+ Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
+ But he hears the surging waves without,--
+ The heartless jeer, and the wild, wild shout:
+ The ceaseless clamor, the cruel strife
+ Make the Poet weary of life;
+ And tears of pity and tears of pain
+ Ebb and flow in every strain,
+ As he soothes his heart with singing.
+
+ The tide of humanity rolleth on;
+ And 'mid faces miserly, haggard, and wan,
+ Between the hypocrite's and the knave's,
+ The hapless idiot's and the slave's,
+ Sweet children smile in their nurses' arms,
+ And clap their hands in innocent glee;
+ While, unrebuked by the heavenly charms
+ That beam in the eyes of infancy,
+ Oaths still blacken the lips of men,
+ And startle the ears of womanhood!
+ On either hand
+ The churches stand,
+ Forgotten by those who yesterday
+ Went thronging thither to praise and pray,
+ And take of the Holy Body and Blood!
+ Their week-day creed is the law of Might;
+ Self is their idol, and Gain their right:
+ Though, now and then,
+ God sees some faithful disciples still
+ Breasting the current to do His will.
+ The little bird on the topmost bough
+ Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
+ Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
+ But he hears the surging waves without,--
+ The atheist's scoff and the infidel's doubt,
+ The Pharisee's cant and the sweet saint's prayer,
+ And the piercing cry for rest from care;
+ And tears of pity and tears of pain
+ Ebb and flow in every strain,
+ As he praises God with singing.
+
+
+
+
+A JOURNEY IN SICILY.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+PALERMO.
+
+
+In the latter part of April, 1856, four travellers, one of whom was the
+present writer, left the Vittoria Hotel at Naples, and at two, P.M.,
+embarked on board the Calabrese steamer, pledged to leave for Palermo
+precisely at that hour. As, however, our faith in the company's
+protestations was by no means so implicit as had been our obedience to
+their orders, it was with no feeling of surprise that we discovered by
+many infallible signs that the hour of departure was yet far off. True,
+the funnel sent up its thick cloud; the steward in dirty shirt-sleeves
+stood firm in the gangway, energetically demanding from the
+baggage-laden traveller the company's voucher for the fare, without
+which he may vainly hope to leave the gangway ladder; the decks were
+crowded in every part with lumber, live and dead. But all these symptoms
+had to be increased many fold in their intensity before we could hope to
+get under way; and a single glance at the listless countenances of the
+bare-legged, bare-armed, red-capped crowd who adhered like polypi to
+the rough foundation-stones of the mole sufficed to show that the
+performance they had come to witness would not soon commence. Our berths
+once visited, we cast about for some quiet position wherein to while
+away the intervening time. The top of the deck-house offered as pleasant
+a prospect as could be hoped for, and thither we mounted.
+
+The whole available portion of the deck, poop included, was in
+possession of a crowd of youngsters, many mere boys, from the Abruzzi,
+destined to exchange their rags and emptiness for the gay uniform and
+good rations of King Ferdinand's soldiery. In point of physical comfort,
+their gain must be immense; and very bad must be that government
+which, despite of these advantages, has forced upon the soldier's mind
+discontent and disaffection. No doubt, the spectacle of the Swiss
+regiments doubly paid, and (on Sundays at least) trebly intoxicated,
+has something to do with this ill feeling. The raggedness of this troop
+could be paralleled only by that of the immortal regiment with whom
+their leader declined to march through Coventry, and was probably even
+more quaint and fantastic in its character. Chief in singularity were
+their hats, if hat be the proper designation of the volcanic-looking
+gray cone which adhered to the head by some inscrutable dynamic law, and
+seemed rather fitted for carrying out the stratagem of shoeing a troop
+of horse with felt than for protecting a human skull. A triple row
+of scalloped black velvet not unfrequently bore testimony to the
+indomitable love of the nation for ornament; and the same decoration
+might be found on their garments, whose complicated patchwork reminded
+us of the humble original from which has sprung our brilliant Harlequin.
+Shortly our attention was solicited by a pantomimic Roscius, some ten or
+twelve years old, who, having climbed over the taffrail and cleared a
+stage of some four feet square, dramatized all practicable scenes, and
+many apparently impracticable, for he made nothing of presenting two or
+three personages in rapid interchange. Words were needless, and would
+have been useless, as the unloading of railway bars by a brawny
+Northumbrian and his crew drowned all articulate sounds.
+
+Notwithstanding these varied amusements, we were not sorry to see
+arrive, first, a gray general, obviously the Triton of our minnows, and
+close behind him the health and police officers of the government, to
+whose paternal solicitude for our mental and bodily health was to be
+ascribed our long delay in port. These beneficent influences, incarnated
+in the form of two portly gentlemen in velvet waistcoats,--an Italian
+wears a velvet waistcoat, if he can get one, far into the hot
+months,--began their work of summoning by name each individual from the
+private to the general, then the passengers, then the crew, and finally,
+much to our relief, reembarked in the boat, and left us free to pursue
+our voyage.
+
+We soon left behind the ominous cone of Vesuvius, reported by the best
+judges to be at present in so unsound a state that nothing can prevent
+its early fall; sunset left us near the grand precipices of Anacapri,
+and morning found us with Ustica on our beam, and the semicircle of
+mountains which enchase the gem of Palermo gradually unfolding their
+beauties. By ten, A.M., we were in harbor and pulling shorewards to
+subject ourselves to the scrutiny of custom-house and police. Our
+passports duly conned over, the functionary, with a sour glance at our
+valanced faces, inquired if we had letters for any one in the island.
+Never before had such a question been asked me, nor ever before could I
+have given other than an humble negative. But the kindness of a friend
+had luckily provided me with a formidable shield, and a reply, given
+with well-assumed ease, that I had letters from the English Ambassador
+for the Viceroy, smoothed the grim feature, and released us from the
+dread tribunal. The custom-house gave no trouble, and we reembarked to
+cross about half a mile of water which separated us from the city gate.
+Here, however, we were destined to experience the influence of the sunny
+clime: our two stout boatmen persisted in setting their sail, under the
+utterly false pretence that there was some wind blowing, and fully half
+an hour elapsed ere we set foot ashore.
+
+This gave me ample time to recall the different aspect of Palermo when
+first I saw it, in 1849. I had accompanied the noble squadron, English
+and French, which carried to the Sicilian government the _ultimatum_
+of the King of Naples. The scenes of that troubled time passed vividly
+before me: the mutual salutes of the Admirals; the honors paid by
+each separately to the flag of Sicily, that flag which we had come to
+strike,--for such we all knew must be the effect of our withdrawal. I
+recollected the manly courtesy with which the Sicilians received us,
+their earnest assurances that they did not confound our involuntary
+errand with our personal feelings; and how, when a wild Greek
+mountaineer from the Piano de' Greci, unable to comprehend the
+intricacies of politics, and stupidly imagining that those who were
+not for him were against him, had insulted one of our officers, the
+bystanders had interposed so honorably and so swiftly that even the hot
+blood of our fiery Cymrian had neither time nor excuse to rise to the
+boiling-point. I recalled the scene in the Parliament House, when the
+replies to the King's message, which had been sent by each chief town,
+were read by the Speaker: the grave indignation of some,--the somewhat
+bombastic protestations of others,--the question put of submission or
+war,--the shout of "_Guerra! guerra!_" ringing too loud, methought, to
+be good metal; the "_Suoni la tromba_" at that night's theatre,--the
+digging at the fortifications,--women carrying huge stones,--men more
+willing to shout for them than to do their own share,--Capuchin friars
+digging with the best,--finally, the wild dance of men, women, cowled
+and bearded monks, all together, brandishing their spades and shovels in
+cadence to the military band. With this came to me the mild smile and
+doubtful shake of the head of the good Admiral Baudin, and his prophetic
+remark,--"I have seen much fighting in various parts of the world; and
+if these men mean to fight, I cannot comprehend them."
+
+While this mental diorama was unrolling, even Sicilian laziness had time
+to reach the shore; and passing by a rough mass of rocks, where our
+second cutter had once run too close for comfort, and the Friedland's
+launch had upset and lost two men, we at length landed close to the city
+gate. A custom-house officer pounced on us for a fee, notwithstanding
+our examination on first landing, and ("_uno avulso, non deficit aureus
+alter_,") at the city gate, not thirty yards distant, a third repeated
+the demand, equivalent to "Your money or your keys." A capital breakfast
+at the Trinacria hotel was the fitting conclusion to these oft-recorded
+troubles, and the gratifying news that the Viceroy had just left the
+island for Naples obviated the necessity of a formal visit, and left us
+free to enjoy the notabilities of Palermo.
+
+The plan of this beautiful city is very simple, being a tolerably
+accurate square, surrounded by walls, of which the northern face skirts
+the sea, and the southern faces the head of the lovely valley in which
+the city stands,--the Golden Shell. Two perfectly straight streets,
+intersecting in a small, but highly ornamented _piazza_, traverse
+the city. The Toledo, or Via Cassaro,--for it bears both these
+designations,--runs from the sea to the Monreale gate, close to which is
+the Royal Palace, and the Cathedral square opens from this street. The
+Via Macqueda contains few buildings of interest except the University.
+Between the wall and the sea runs the magnificent Marina, a more
+beautiful promenade than even the Villa Reale of Naples, having on the
+right the low but picturesque headland of Bagaria, while on the left
+rise the all but perpendicular rocks of Monte Pellegrino, once the
+impregnable mountain-throne of Hamilcar Barcas, and later the spot where
+in a rude cavern, now sheeted with marble and jasper, "from all the
+youth of Sicily, Saint Rosalie retired to God." The handicraftsmen of
+Palermo still occupy almost exclusively the streets named after their
+trades,--an indication of immobility rarely to be met with nowadays,
+though Rome displays it in a minor degree.
+
+We first visited the University Museum. Numerous pictures, far beyond
+the ordinary degree of badness, occupy the upper rooms, where the only
+object of interest is a very fine and well-preserved bronze of Hercules
+and the Pompeian Fawn, half life-size. But far beyond all else in
+artistic importance are the _metopes_ from Selinuntium, which, though
+much damaged, show marks of high excellence. They are of clearly
+different dates, though all very archaic. The oldest represent Perseus
+cutting off the Gorgon's head, and Hercules killing two thieves. Perseus
+has the calm, sleepy look of a Hindoo god,--while Gorgon's head, with
+goggle eyes and protruding tongue, resembles a Mexican idol. Hercules
+and the thieves have more of an Egyptian character. The material of
+these bas-reliefs is coarse limestone; and in the _metopes_ on the
+opposite wall, which are clearly of later date, recourse has been had to
+a curious method of obtaining delicacy in the female forms: the faces,
+hands, and feet, which alone are visible from among the drapery, are
+formed of fine marble. An Actaeon torn by his dogs is much corroded by
+sea air, but displays great nobleness of attitude. The vigor in the left
+arm, which has throttled one of the dogs, can hardly be surpassed. A
+portion of the _cella_, of one of the temples has been removed hither,
+and its brilliant polychromy is sufficient to decide the argument as to
+the existence of the practice, if, indeed, that point be yet in doubt.
+But it seems that the non-colorists have relinquished the parallel of
+architecture, which, be it observed, they formerly defended obstinately,
+and have now intrenched themselves in the citadel of sculpture,
+intending to hold it against all evidence. The only other object of much
+interest was a Pompeian fresco, representing two actors, whose attitudes
+and masks are so strikingly adapted to express the first scene of the
+"Heautontimorumenos," between Menalcas and Chremes, that it seems
+scarcely doubtful that this is actually the subject of the painting.
+
+Near the upper end of the Toledo the Cathedral is situated, not very
+favorably for effect, as only the eastern side is sufficiently free from
+buildings. It is a noble pile: Northern power and piety expressed by
+the agency of Southern and Arabic workmen, and somewhat affected by the
+nationality of the artificer.
+
+The stones are fretted and carved more elaborately than those of any
+French or English cathedral, but entirely in arabesques and diapering of
+low relief, so that the spectator misses with regret the solemn rows of
+saints and patriarchs that enrich the portals of our Gothic minsters.
+These, however, are reflections of a subsequent date, and did not
+interfere to mar the pleasure with which we sat in front of the southern
+door, beneath the two lofty arches, which, springing from the entrance
+tower, span the street high above our heads. For some time we sat,
+unwilling to change and it might be impair our sensations by passing
+inwards. Our reluctance was but too well founded: the whole interior has
+been modernized in detestable Renaissance style, and in place of highest
+honor, above the central doorway, sits in tight-buttoned uniform a
+fitting idol for so ugly a shrine, the double-chinned effigy of the
+reigning monarch. We turned for comfort to a chapel on the right, where
+in four sarcophagi of porphyry are deposited the remains of the Northern
+sovereigns. The bones of Roger repose in a plain oblong chest with a
+steep ridged roof, and the other three coffins, though somewhat more
+elaborate, are yet simple and massive, as befits their destined use. The
+inscription, on that of Constantia is touching, as it tells that she
+was "the last of the great race of Northmen,"--the good old bad Latin
+"Northmannorum" giving the proper title, which we have injudiciously
+softened into Norman.
+
+In a small _piazza_ near the intersection of the main streets is a
+Dominican church, whose black and white inlaid marbles are amazing in
+their elaborateness, astounding in their preposterously bad taste. They
+transcend description, and can be faintly imagined only by such as
+know a huge marble nightmare of waves and clouds in the south aisle
+of Westminster Abbey. This church contains one good painting of a
+triumphant experiment conducted by some Dominican friars in the presence
+of sundry Ulemas and Muftis: a Koran and Bible have been thrown into a
+blazing fire, and the result is as satisfactory as that of Hercules's
+death-grapple with the Nemean lion. To be sure, lions and Turks are
+not painters. The Martorana church is rich in gold-grounded mosaics,
+resembling Saint Mark's at Venice. One represents the coronation of
+Roger Guiscard by the Saviour: very curious, as showing at how early a
+date the invaders laid claim to the Right Divine. The inscription is
+also noteworthy: _Rogerius Rex_, in the Latin tongue, but the Greek
+characters, thus: [Greek: ROGERIOS RAEX].[a] The Renaissance has invaded
+this church too, and flowery inlaid marbles with gilded scroll balconies
+(it is a nuns' church) mingle with the bold discs and oblong panels of
+porphyry and green serpentine. In the nave of the small church sat in
+comfortable arm-chairs two monks, one black, one white, leaning their
+ears to gilded grates and receiving the confessions of the sisterhood.
+The paschal candlestick stood in front of the high altar,--Ascension-Day
+not being past; but here, as in other Sicilian churches, it assumes the
+form of a seven-branched tree, generally of bronze bedecked with gold.
+These same nuns' balconies are not confined to the interior of churches,
+but form a distinct and picturesque feature in the long line of the
+Toledo. Projecting in a bold curve whose undersurface is gaily painted
+in arabesque, their thick bars and narrow openings nevertheless leave a
+gloomy impression on the mind, while they add to the Oriental character
+of the city. A somewhat unsuccessful effort to identify the church whose
+bell gave signal for the Sicilian Vespers closed our day's labor. The
+spot is clearly defined and easily recognizable, and a small church, now
+shut up, occupies the site. So far, so good; but the cloister which is
+distinctly mentioned cannot now be found, nor is it easy to perceive
+where it could have stood. Perhaps some change in the neighboring harbor
+may have swept it away.
+
+[Footnote a: The _e_ in _Rex_ is here rendered by the Greek eta,--a
+proof that the pronunciation of that letter was similar to that of our
+long _a_, and not like our double _ee_; although the modern Greeks
+support the latter pronunciation.]
+
+_23d April_. To those who take interest in the efforts of that age when
+Christianity, devoid at once of artistic knowledge and of mechanical,
+strove from among the material and moral wreck of Paganism to create for
+herself a school of Art which should, despite of all short-comings, be
+the exponent of those high feelings which inspired her mind, the Royal
+Chapel of Palermo offers a delightful object of study. Less massive than
+the gloomily grand basilicas of Rome and Ravenna, surpassed in single
+features by other churches, as, for instance, the Cathedral of Salerno,
+it contains, nevertheless, such perfect specimens of Christian Art in
+its various phases, that this one small building seems a hand-book in
+itself. The floor and walls are covered with excellently preserved and
+highly polished Alexandrine mosaic, flowing in varied convolutions of
+green and gold and red round the broad crimson and gray shields, whose
+circular forms recall the mighty monolith columns of porphyry and
+granite which yielded such noble spoils. The honey-combed pendentines of
+the ceiling must be due to Arab workmen; their like may yet be found in
+Cairo or the Alhambra; while below the narrow windows, and extending
+downwards to the marble panelling, runs a grand series of gold-grounded
+mosaics, their subjects taken from the Old and New Testaments. But
+far older than even these are the colossal grim circles of saints and
+apostles who cling to the roof of the choir, and yield in size only to
+the awful figures of the Saviour, the Virgin, and Saint Paul, enthroned
+in the _apsides_ of the nave and aisles. The _ambones_, though not
+so large as those of Salerno, are very gorgeous; and the paschal
+candlestick, here at all events in its usual shape, is of deeply-carved
+marble, and displays an incongruous assemblage of youths, maidens,
+beasts, birds, and bishops, hanging each from other like a curtain of
+swarming bees.
+
+Service, which had been going on in the choir when we arrived, had now
+ceased; but from the crypt below arose a chant so harsh, vibratory,
+and void of solemnity, that we were irresistibly reminded of the
+subterranean chorus of demons in "Robert le Diable." Two of us ventured
+below and discovered the chapter, all robed in purple, sitting round a
+pall with a presumable coffin underneath. Little of reverence did they
+show,--it is true, the death was not recent, the service being merely
+commemorative, as we afterwards learned,--and as the procession shortly
+afterwards emerged and proceeded down the chapel, the unwashed,
+unshaven, and sensual countenances of some of highest rank among them
+gave small reason to believe that they could feel much reverence on any
+subject whatever.
+
+The Palace itself is as tedious as any other palace: the Pompeian room
+follows the Louis Quinze, and is in turn followed by the Chinese, till,
+for our comfort, we emerged into one large square hall, whose stiff
+mosaics of archers killing stags, peacocks feeding at the foot of
+willow-pattern trees, date from the time of Roger. Another wearisome
+series of rooms succeeded, which we were bound to traverse in search of
+a bronze ram of old Greek workmanship, brought from Syracuse. The work
+is very good and well-preserved; in fact, no part is injured, save the
+tail and a hind leg, whose loss the _custode_ ascribed to the villains
+of the late revolution. He even charged them with the destruction of
+another similar statue melted into bullets, if we may believe his
+incredible tale. A pavilion over the Monreale gate commands a view right
+down the Toledo to the sea.
+
+The drive to Monreale is a continued ascent along the skirts of a
+limestone rock, whose precipices are thickly planted at every foothold
+with olive, Indian fig, and aloe. The valley, as it spread below our
+gaze, appeared one huge carpet of heavy-fruited orange-trees, save where
+at times a rent in the web left visible the bluish blades of wheat, or
+the intense green of a flax-plantation.
+
+Monreale is a mere country-town, containing no object of interest, save
+the Cathedral. This is a noble basilica, grandly proportioned, the nave
+and aisles of which are separated by monolith pillars, mostly of gray
+granite, and some few of cipollino and other marbles, the spoils, no
+doubt, of the ancient Panormus. Above the cornice the walls are entirely
+sheeted with golden mosaics, representing, as usual, Scripture history.
+The series which begins, like the speech of the Intendant in "Les
+Plaideurs," "_Avant la creation du monde_" complies with the wish of
+(the judge?) by going on to the Deluge, in a train of singularly meagre
+figures, most haggard of whom is Cain, here represented (as in the Campo
+Santo of Pisa) receiving his death accidentally from the hand of Lamech.
+In the passage of the beasts to the Ark, Noah coaxes the lion on board,
+and in the next compartment the patriarch shoves the king of beasts down
+the plank in a most ludicrous fashion. The mosaics of the New Testament
+are less archaic, though still very old, too old to be infected by the
+tricks of later Romanism,--such, for instance, as introducing the Virgin
+among the receivers of the mysterious gift of tongues. Saint Paul, both
+here and at the Royal Chapel, appears under the earlier type adopted
+whether by fancy or tradition to represent that saint,--that is, a
+short, strong figure, with the head large, and almost devoid of hair,
+except at the sides, and one dark lock in the centre of the massive
+forehead. Over the western door-way is a mosaic of the Virgin with the
+following leonine and loyal distich beneath it:--
+
+ "Sponsa suae prolis, O Stella puerpera Solis,
+ Pro cunctis ora, sed plus pro rege labora!"
+
+There is an ample square cloister, with twenty-seven pairs of columns on
+each side, once richly decorated in mosaics like those of San Giovanni
+Laterano and San Paolo at Rome, but even more dilapidated than either
+of these latter. Indeed, so entirely non-existent is the mosaic, the
+twisted and channelled columns showing nothing but places "where the
+pasty is not," that the more probable solution may be that want of funds
+or of devotion has left the work unfinished. On the capital of one
+column may be seen the figure of William the Good, who founded the
+Cathedral in 1170. He bears in his arms a model of the building, which
+here appears with circular-headed windows instead of the lanceolated
+Gothic now existing.
+
+In, perhaps, the very loveliest of the many lovely sites around Palermo
+stands the small Moorish building of La Ziza. Moorish it may be called;
+for the main feature of the edifice, a hall with a fountain trickling
+along a channel in the pavements, is clearly due to the Saracens. These,
+however, had availed themselves of Roman columns to support their
+fretted ceilings, once gorgeous in color, but now desecrated with
+whitewash. The Norman invaders have added their never-failing gold
+mosaic,--while the Spaniard, after painting sundry scenes from Ovid's
+"Metamorphoses" in a dreadfully barocco style, calls upon the world,
+in those magniloquent phrases which somehow belong as of right to your
+mighty Don, to admire the exquisite commingling of modern art with
+antique beauty, to which his _fiat_ has given birth.
+
+Somewhat of Spain, perhaps, might also be traced in an incident,
+promisingly romantic, but coming to a most lame and impotent conclusion,
+which occurred this afternoon to one of our party. While busily
+sketching, in the Martorana church, the previously mentioned mosaic of
+Roger's coronation, a hand protruded from the gilded lattice above,
+and a small scroll was dropped, not precisely at the feet, but in the
+neighborhood of the amazed artist. Sharp eyes, however, must be at work;
+for, ere he could appropriate this mysterious waif on Love's manor, a
+side-door opened, and an attendant in the very unpoetical garb of a
+carpenter bore off the prize. It maybe presumed that the next confessor
+who occupied an arm-chair in the church would have somewhat of novelty
+to enliven what some priests have stated to be the most wearisome of the
+work, namely, the hearing of confessions in a nunnery.
+
+This evening was passed in the house of the British Consul, who, in
+amusing recognition of our nationalities, comprising, as they did,
+both branches of the Anglo-Saxon race, treated us to Lemann's
+captain's-biscuit and Boston crackers. Notwithstanding the interesting
+conversation of our host, who had not allowed a residence of many years
+in a mind-rusting city to impair his love of literature, a love dating
+from the time when Praed edited the "Etonian," and Metius Tarpa
+contributed to the "College Magazine," we were obliged to leave early.
+Our arrangements for a very early start next morning were completed, and
+a thirty miles' ride lay before us.
+
+To save further allusion to them, it may be as well to describe these
+arrangements, which were made for us by Signor Ragusa, landlord of the
+Trinacria hotel. A guide, Giuseppe Agnello by name, took upon himself
+the whole responsibility of our board, lodging, and travelling, at a
+fixed rate of forty-two (?) _carlini_ a head,--which sum, including his
+_buonamano_ and return voyage from Syracuse or Messina, amounted to
+about twenty francs each _per diem_. For this sum he furnished us with
+good mules, a hearty breakfast at daybreak, cold meat and hard eggs at
+noon, and a plentiful dinner or supper, call it which you choose, on
+arriving at our night's quarters. Agnello himself was cook, and proved
+a very tolerable one. This is essential; for Spanish custom prevails
+in the inns, whose host considers his duty accomplished when he has
+provided ample stabling for the mules and dubious bedding for his biped
+guests.
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PROFESSOR'S STORY.
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+PHYSIOLOGICAL.
+
+
+If Master Bernard felt a natural gratitude to his young pupil for saving
+him from an imminent peril, he was in a state of infinite perplexity
+to know why he should have needed such aid. He, an active, muscular,
+courageous, adventurous young fellow, with a stick in his hand, ready to
+hold down the Old Serpent himself, if he had come in his way, to stand
+still, staring into those two eyes, until they came up close to him,
+and the strange, terrible sound seemed to freeze him stiff where he
+stood,--what was the meaning of it? Again, what was the influence this
+girl had exerted, under which the venomous creature had collapsed in
+such a sudden way? Whether he had been awake or dreaming he did not feel
+quite sure. He knew he had gone up The Mountain, at any rate; he knew he
+had come down The Mountain with the girl walking just before him;--there
+was no forgetting her figure, as she walked on in silence, her braided
+locks falling a little, for want of the lost hair-pin, perhaps, and
+looking like a wreathing coil of--Shame on such fancies!--to wrong that
+supreme crowning gift of abounding Nature, a rush of shining black hair,
+that, shaken loose, would cloud her all round, like Godiva, from brow to
+instep! He was sure he had sat down before the fissure or cave. He was
+sure that he was led softly away from the place, and that it was Elsie
+who had led him. There was the hair-pin to show that so far it was not a
+dream. But between these recollections came a strange confusion; and the
+more the master thought, the more he was perplexed to know whether she
+had waked him, sleeping, as he sat on the stone, from some frightful
+dream, such as may come in a very brief slumber, or whether she had
+bewitched him into a trance with those strange eyes of hers, or whether
+it was all true, and he must solve its problem as he best might.
+
+There was another recollection connected with this mountain adventure.
+As they approached the mansion-house, they met a young man, whom Mr.
+Bernard remembered having seen once at least before, and whom he had
+heard of as a cousin of the young girl. As Cousin Richard Venner, the
+person in question, passed them, he took the measure, so to speak, of
+Mr. Bernard, with a look so piercing, so exhausting, so practised, so
+profoundly suspicious, that the young master felt in an instant that he
+had an enemy in this handsome youth,--an enemy, too, who was like to be
+subtle and dangerous.
+
+Mr. Bernard had made up his mind, that, come what might, enemy or no
+enemy, live or die, he would solve the mystery of Elsie Venner, sooner
+or later. He was not a man to be frightened out of his resolution by a
+scowl, or a stiletto, or any unknown means of mischief, of which a whole
+armory was hinted at in that passing look Dick Venner had given him.
+Indeed, like most adventurous young persons, he found a kind of charm
+in feeling that there might be some dangers in the way of his
+investigations. Some rumors which had reached him about the supposed
+suitor of Elsie Venner, who was thought to be a desperate kind of
+fellow, and whom some believed to be an unscrupulous adventurer, added
+a curious, romantic kind of interest to the course of physiological and
+psychological inquiries he was about instituting.
+
+The afternoon on The Mountain was still uppermost in his mind. Of course
+he knew the common stories about fascination. He had once been himself
+an eyewitness of the charming of a small bird by one of our common
+harmless serpents. Whether a human being could be reached by this
+subtile agency, he had been skeptical, notwithstanding the mysterious
+relation generally felt to exist between man and this creature, "cursed
+above all cattle and above every beast of the field,"--a relation which
+some interpret as the fruit of the curse, and others hold to be so
+instinctive that this animal has been for that reason adopted as the
+natural symbol of evil. There was another solution, however, supplied
+him by his professional reading. The curious work of Mr. Braid of
+Manchester had made him familiar with the phenomena of a state allied to
+that produced by animal magnetism, and called by that writer by the name
+of _hypnotism_. He found, by referring to his note-book, the statement
+was, that, by fixing the eyes on a _bright object_ so placed as _to
+produce a strain_ upon the eyes and eyelids, and to maintain _a steady
+fixed stare_, there comes on in a few seconds a very singular condition,
+characterized by _muscular rigidity_ and _inability to move_, with a
+strange _exaltation of most of the senses_, and _generally_ a closure of
+the eyelids,--this condition being followed by _torpor_.
+
+Now this statement of Mr. Braid's, well known to the scientific world,
+and the truth of which had been confirmed by Mr. Bernard in certain
+experiments he had instituted, as it has been by many other
+experimenters, went far to explain the strange impressions, of which,
+waking or dreaming, he had certainly been the subject. His nervous
+system had been in a high state of exaltation at the time. He remembered
+how the little noises that made rings of sound in the silence of the
+woods, like pebbles dropped in still waters, had reached his inner
+consciousness. He remembered that singular sensation in the roots of the
+hair, when he came on the traces of the girl's presence, reminding him
+of a line in a certain poem which he had read lately with a new and
+peculiar interest. He even recalled a curious evidence of exalted
+sensibility and irritability, in the twitching of the minute muscles of
+the internal ear at every unexpected sound, producing an odd little
+snap in the middle of the head, that proved to him he was getting very
+nervous.
+
+The next thing was to find out whether it were possible that the
+venomous creature's eyes should have served the purpose of Mr. Braid's
+"bright object" held very close to the person experimented on, or
+whether they had any special power which could be made the subject of
+exact observation.
+
+For this purpose Mr. Bernard considered it necessary to get a live
+_crotalus_ or two into his possession, if this were possible. On
+inquiry, he found that there was a certain family living far up the
+mountain-side, not a mile from the ledge, the members of which were said
+to have taken these creatures occasionally, and not to be in any danger,
+or at least in any fear, of being injured by them. He applied to these
+people, and offered a reward sufficient to set them at work to capture
+some of these animals, if such a thing were possible.
+
+A few days after this, a dark, gypsy-looking woman presented herself at
+his door. She held up her apron as if it contained something precious in
+the bag she made with it.
+
+"Y'wanted some rattlers," said the woman. "Here they be."
+
+She opened her apron and showed a coil of rattlesnakes lying very
+peaceably in its fold. They lifted their heads up, as if they wanted to
+see what was going on, but showed no sign of anger.
+
+"Are you crazy?" said Mr. Bernard. "You're dead in an hour, if one of
+those creatures strikes you!"
+
+He drew back a little, as he spoke; it might be simple disgust; it might
+be fear; it might be what we call antipathy, which is different from
+either, and which will sometimes show itself in paleness, and even
+faintness, produced by objects perfectly harmless and not in themselves
+offensive to any sense.
+
+"Lord bless you," said the woman, "rattlers never touches our folks. I'd
+jest 'z lieves handle them creaturs as so many striped snakes."
+
+So saying, she put their heads down with her hand, and packed them
+together in her apron as if they had been bits of cart-rope.
+
+Mr. Bernard had never heard of the power, or, at least, the belief in
+the possession of a power by certain persons, which enables them to
+handle these frightful reptiles with perfect impunity. The fact,
+however, is well known to others, and more especially to a very
+distinguished Professor in one of the leading institutions of the great
+city of the land, whose experiences in the neighborhood of Graylock, as
+he will doubtless inform the curious, were very much like those of the
+young master.
+
+Mr. Bernard had a wired cage ready for his formidable captives, and
+studied their habits and expression with a strange sort of interest.
+What did the Creator mean to signify, when he made such shapes of
+horror, and, as if he had doubly cursed this envenomed wretch, had set
+a mark upon him and sent him forth, the Cain of the brotherhood of
+serpents? It was a very curious fact that the first train of thoughts
+Mr. Bernard's small menagerie suggested to him was the grave, though
+somewhat worn, subject of the origin of evil. There is now to be seen in
+a tall glass jar, in the Museum of Comparative Anatomy at Cantabridge
+in the territory of the Massachusetts, a huge _crotalus_, of a species
+which grows to more frightful dimensions than our own, under the hotter
+skies of South America. Look at it, ye who would know what is the
+tolerance, the freedom from prejudice, which can suffer such an
+incarnation of all that is devilish to lie unharmed in the cradle of
+Nature! Learn, too, that there are many things in this world which we
+are warned to shun, and are even suffered to slay, if need be, but which
+we must not hate, unless we would hate what God loves and cares for.
+
+Whatever fascination the creature might exercise in his native haunts,
+Mr. Bernard found himself not in the least nervous or affected in any
+way while looking at his caged reptiles. When their cage was shaken,
+they would lift their heads and spring their rattles; but the sound was
+by no means so formidable to listen to as when it reverberated among
+the chasms of the echoing rocks. The expression of the creatures was
+watchful, still, grave, passionless, fate-like, suggesting a cold
+malignity that seemed to be waiting for its opportunity. Their awful,
+deep-cut mouths were sternly closed over the long hollow fangs that
+rested their roots against the swollen poison-bag, where the venom had
+been boarding up ever since the last stroke had emptied it. They never
+winked, for ophidians have no movable eyelids, but kept up that awful
+fixed stare which made the two _unwinking_ gladiators the survivors of
+twenty pairs matched by one of the Roman Emperors, as Pliny tells us, in
+his "Natural History." But their eyes did not flash, as he had expected
+to see them. They were of a pale-golden or straw color, horrible to look
+into, with their stony calmness, their pitiless indifference, hardly
+enlivened by the almost imperceptible vertical slit of the pupil,
+through which Death seemed to be looking out like the archer behind the
+long narrow loop-hole in a blank turret-wall. Possibly their pupils
+might open wide enough in the dark hole of the rock to let the glare
+of the back part of the eye show, as we often see it in cats and other
+animals. On the whole, the caged reptiles, horrid as they were, were yet
+very different from his recollections of what he had seen or dreamed
+he saw at the cavern. These looked dangerous enough, but yet quiet. A
+treacherous stillness, however,--as the unfortunate New York physician
+found, when he put his foot out to wake up the torpid creature, and
+instantly the fang flashed through his boot, carrying the poison into
+his blood, and death with it.
+
+Mr. Bernard kept these strange creatures, and watched all their habits
+with a natural curiosity. In any collection of animals the venomous
+beasts are looked at with the greatest interest, just as the greatest
+villains are most run after by the unknown public. Nobody troubles
+himself for a common striped snake or a petty thief, but a _cobra_ or a
+wife-killer is a centre of attraction to all eyes. These captives did
+very little to earn their living; but, on the other hand, their living
+was not expensive, their diet being nothing but air, _au nature_. Months
+and months these creatures will live and seem to thrive well enough,
+as any showman who has them in his menagerie will testify, though they
+never touch anything to eat or drink.
+
+In the mean time Mr. Bernard had become very curious about a class of
+subjects not treated of in any detail in those text-books accessible in
+most country-towns, to the exclusion of the more special treatises, and
+especially the rare and ancient works found on the shelves of the larger
+city-libraries. He was on a visit to old Dr. Kittredge one day, having
+been asked by him to call in for a few moments as soon as convenient.
+The Doctor smiled good-humoredly when he asked him if he had an
+extensive collection of medical works.
+
+"Why, no," said the old Doctor, "I haven't got a great many printed
+books; and what I have I don't read quite as often as I might, I'm
+afraid. I read and studied in the time of it, when I was in the midst of
+the young men who were all at work with their books; but it's a mighty
+hard matter, when you go off alone into the country, to keep up with
+all that's going on in the Societies and the Colleges. I'll tell you,
+though, Mr. Langdon, when a man that's once started right lives among
+sick folks for five-and-thirty years, as I've done, if he hasn't got a
+library of five-and-thirty volumes bound up in his head at the end of
+that time, he'd better stop driving round and sell his horse and sulky.
+I know the better part of the families within a dozen miles' ride. I
+know the families that have a way of living through everything, and I
+know the other set that have the trick of dying without any kind of
+reason for it. I know the years when the fevers and dysenteries are in
+earnest, and when they're only making believe. I know the folks that
+think they're dying as soon as they're sick, and the folks that never
+find out they're sick till they're dead. I don't want to undervalue your
+science, Mr. Langdon. There are things I never learned, because they
+came in after my day, and I am very glad to send my patients to those
+that do know them, when I am at fault; but I know these people about
+here, fathers and mothers, and children and grandchildren, so as all the
+science in the world can't know them, without it takes time about it,
+and sees them grow up and grow old, and how the wear and tear of life
+comes to them. You can't tell a horse by driving him once, Mr. Langdon,
+nor a patient by talking half an hour with him."
+
+"Do you know much about the Venner family?" said Mr. Bernard, in a
+natural way enough, the Doctor's talk having suggested the question.
+
+The Doctor lifted his head with his accustomed movement, so as to
+command the young man through his spectacles.
+
+"I know all the families of this place and its neighborhood," he
+answered.
+
+"We have the young lady studying with us at the Institute," said Mr.
+Bernard.
+
+"I know it," the Doctor answered. "Is she a good scholar?"
+
+All this time the Doctor's eyes were fixed steadily on Mr. Bernard,
+looking through the glasses.
+
+"She is a good scholar enough, but I don't know what to make of her.
+Sometimes I think she is a little out of her head. Her father, I
+believe, is sensible enough;--what sort of a woman was her mother,
+Doctor?--I suppose, of course, you remember all about her?"
+
+"Yes, I knew her mother. She was a very lovely young woman."--The Doctor
+put his hand to his forehead and drew a long breath.--"What is there you
+notice out of the way about Elsie Venner?"
+
+"A good many things," the master answered. "She shuns all the other
+girls. She is getting a strange influence over my fellow-teacher, a
+young lady,--you know Miss Helen Darley, perhaps? I am afraid this girl
+will kill her. I never saw or heard of anything like it, in prose at
+least;--do you remember much of Coleridge's Poems, Doctor?"
+
+The good old Doctor had to plead a negative.
+
+"Well, no matter. Elsie would have been burned for a witch in old times.
+I have seen the girl look at Miss Darley when she had not the least idea
+of it, and all at once I would see her grow pale and moist, and sigh,
+and move round uneasily, and turn towards Elsie, and perhaps get up and
+go to her, or else have slight spasmodic movements that looked like
+hysterics;--do you believe in the evil eye, Doctor?"
+
+"Mr. Langdon," the Doctor said, solemnly, "there are strange things
+about Elsie Venner,--very strange things. This was what I wanted to
+speak to you about. Let me advise you all to be very patient with the
+girl, but also very careful. Her love is not to be desired, and"--he
+whispered softly--"her hate is to be dreaded. Do you think she has any
+special fancy for anybody else in the school besides Miss Darley?"
+
+Mr. Bernard could not stand the old Doctor's spectacled eyes without
+betraying a little of the feeling natural to a young man to whom a home
+question involving a possible sentiment is put suddenly.
+
+"I have suspected," he said,--"I have had a kind of feeling--that
+she--Well, come, Doctor,--I don't know that there's any use in
+disguising the matter,--I have thought Elsie Venner had rather a fancy
+for somebody else,--I mean myself."
+
+There was something so becoming in the blush with which the young man
+made this confession, and so manly, too, in the tone with which he
+spoke, so remote from any shallow vanity, such as young men who are
+incapable of love are apt to feel, when some loose tendril of a woman's
+fancy which a chance wind has blown against them twines about them
+for the want of anything better, that the old Doctor looked at him
+admiringly, and could not help thinking that it was no wonder any young
+girl should be pleased with him.
+
+"You are a man of nerve, Mr. Langdon?" said the Doctor.
+
+"I thought so till very lately," he replied. "I am not easily
+frightened, but I don't know but I might be bewitched or magnetized, or
+whatever it is when one is tied up and cannot move. I think I can find
+nerve enough, however, if there is any special use you want to put it
+to."
+
+"Let me ask you one more question, Mr. Langdon. Do you find yourself
+disposed to take a special interest in Elsie,--to fall in love with her,
+in a word? Pardon me, for I do not ask from curiosity, but a much more
+serious motive."
+
+"Elsie interests me," said the young man, "interests me strangely. She
+has a wild flavor in her character which is wholly different from that
+of any human creature I ever saw. She has marks of genius,--poetic or
+dramatic,--I hardly know which. She read a passage from Keats's 'Lamia'
+the other day, in the school-room, in such a way that I declare to you I
+thought some of the girls would faint or go into fits. Miss Darley got
+up and left the room, trembling all over. Then I pity her, she is so
+lonely. The girls are afraid of her, and she seems to have either a
+dislike or a fear of them. They have all sorts of painful stories about
+her. They give her a name that no human creature ought to bear. They say
+she hides a mark on her neck by always wearing a necklace. She is very
+graceful, you know, and they will have it that she can twist herself
+into all sorts of shapes, or tie herself in a knot, if she wants to.
+There is not one of them that will look her in the eyes. I pity the poor
+girl; but, Doctor, I do not love her. I would risk my life for her, if
+it would do her any good, but it would be in cold blood. If her hand
+touches mine, it is not a thrill of passion I feel running through me,
+but a very different emotion. Oh, Doctor! there must be something in
+that creature's blood that has killed the humanity in her. God only
+knows the mystery that has blighted such a soul in so beautiful a body!
+No, Doctor, I do not love the girl."
+
+"Mr. Langdon," said the Doctor, "you are young, and I am old. Let me
+talk to you with an old man's privilege, as an adviser. You have come to
+this country-town without suspicion, and you are moving in the midst of
+perils. There is a mystery which I must not tell you now; but I may warn
+you. Keep your eyes open and your heart shut. If, through pitying that
+girl, you ever come to love her, you are lost. If you deal carelessly
+with her, beware! This is not all. There are other eyes on you beside
+Elsie Venner's.--Do you go armed?"
+
+"I do!" said Mr. Bernard,--and he 'put his hands up' in the shape of
+fists, in such a way as to show that he was master of the natural
+weapons at any rate.
+
+The Doctor could not help smiling. But his face fell in an instant.
+
+"You may want something more than those tools to work with. Come with me
+into my sanctum."
+
+The Doctor led Mr. Bernard into a small room opening out of the study.
+It was a place such as anybody but a medical man would shiver to enter.
+There was the usual tall box with its bleached rattling tenant; there
+were jars in rows where "interesting cases" outlived the grief of widows
+and heirs in alcoholic immortality,--for your "preparation-jar" is the
+true "_monumentum aere perennius_"; there were various semipossibilities
+of minute dimensions and unpromising developments; there were shining
+instruments of evil aspect, and grim plates on the walls, and on one
+shelf by itself, accursed and apart, coiled in a long cylinder of
+spirit, a huge _crotalus_, rough-scaled, flat-headed, variegated with
+dull bands, one of which partially encircled the neck like a collar,--an
+awful wretch to look upon, with murder written all over him in horrid
+hieroglyphics. Mr. Bernard's look was riveted on this creature,--not
+fascinated certainly, for its eyes looked like white beads, being
+clouded by the action of the spirits in which it had been long
+kept,--but fixed by some indefinite sense of the renewal of a previous
+impression;--everybody knows the feeling, with its suggestion of some
+past state of existence. There was a scrap of paper on the jar with
+something written on it. He was reaching up to read it when the Doctor
+touched him lightly.
+
+"Look here, Mr. Langdon!" he said, with a certain vivacity of manner, as
+if wishing to call away his attention,--"this is my armory."
+
+The Doctor threw open the door of a small cabinet, where were disposed
+in artistic patterns various weapons of offence and defence,--for he was
+a virtuoso in his way, and by the side of the implements of the art of
+healing had pleased himself with displaying a collection of those other
+instruments, the use of which renders them necessary.
+
+"See which of these weapons you would like best to carry about you,"
+said the Doctor.
+
+Mr. Bernard laughed, and looked at the Doctor as if he half doubted
+whether he was in earnest.
+
+"This looks dangerous enough," he said,--"for the man that carries it,
+at least."
+
+He took down one of the prohibited Spanish daggers or knives which a
+traveller may occasionally get hold of and smuggle out of the country.
+The blade was broad, trowel-like, but the point drawn out several
+inches, so as to look like a skewer.
+
+"This must be a jealous bull-fighter's weapon," he said, and put it back
+in its place.
+
+Then he took down an ancient-looking broad-bladed dagger, with a complex
+aspect about it, as if it had some kind of mechanism connected with it.
+
+"Take care!" said the Doctor; "there is a trick to that dagger."
+
+He took it and touched a spring. The dagger split suddenly into three
+blades, as when one separates the forefinger and the ring-finger from
+the middle one. The outside blades were sharp on their outer edge. The
+stab was to be made with the dagger shut, then the spring touched and
+the split blades withdrawn.
+
+Mr. Bernard replaced it, saying, that it would have served for side-arm
+to old Suwarrow, who told his men to work their bayonets back and
+forward when they pinned a Turk, but to wriggle them about in the wound
+when they stabbed a Frenchman.
+
+"Here," said the Doctor, "this is the thing you want."
+
+He took down a much more modern and familiar implement,--a small,
+beautifully finished revolver.
+
+"I want you to carry this," he said; "and more than that, I want you to
+practise with it often, as for amusement, but so that it may be seen and
+understood that you are apt to have a pistol about you. Pistol-shooting
+is pleasant sport enough, and there is no reason why you should not
+practise it like other young fellows. And now," the Doctor said, "I have
+one other weapon to give you."
+
+He took a small piece of parchment and shook a white powder into it from
+one of his medicine-jars. The jar was marked with the name of a mineral
+salt, of a nature to have been serviceable in case of sudden illness in
+the time of the Borgias. The Doctor folded the parchment carefully and
+marked the Latin name of the powder upon it.
+
+"Here," he said, handing it to Mr. Bernard,--"you see what it is, and
+you know what service it can render. Keep these two protectors about
+your person day and night; they will not harm you, and you may want one
+or the other or both before you think of it."
+
+Mr. Bernard thought it was very odd, and not very old-gentleman like,
+to be fitting him out for treason, stratagem, and spoils, in this way.
+There was no harm, however, in carrying a doctor's powder in his pocket,
+or in amusing himself with shooting at a mark, as he had often done
+before. If the old gentleman had these fancies, it was as well to humor
+him. So he thanked old Doctor Kittredge, and shook his hand warmly as he
+left him.
+
+"The fellow's hand did not tremble, nor his color change," the Doctor
+said, as he watched him walking away. "He is one of the right sort."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+EPISTOLARY.
+
+
+_Mr. Langdon to the Professor._
+
+MY DEAR PROFESSOR,--
+
+You were kind enough to promise me that you would assist me in any
+professional or scientific investigations in which I might become
+engaged. I have of late become deeply interested in a class of subjects
+which present peculiar difficulty, and I must exercise the privilege of
+questioning you on some points upon which I desire information I cannot
+otherwise obtain. I would not trouble you, if I could find any person or
+books competent to enlighten me on some of these singular matters which
+have so excited me. The leading doctor here is a shrewd, sensible man,
+but not versed in the curiosities of medical literature.
+
+I proceed, with your leave, to ask a considerable number of
+questions,--hoping to get answers to some of them, at least.
+
+Is there any evidence that human beings can be infected or wrought
+upon by poisons, or otherwise, so that they shall manifest any of
+the peculiarities belonging to beings of a lower nature? Can such
+peculiarities be transmitted by inheritance? Is there anything to
+countenance the stories, long and widely current, about the "evil eye"?
+or is it a mere fancy that such a power belongs to any human being? Have
+you any personal experience as to the power of fascination said to be
+exercised by certain animals? What can you make of those circumstantial
+statements we have seen in the papers of children forming mysterious
+friendships with ophidians of different species, sharing their food with
+them, and seeming to be under some subtile influence exercised by those
+creatures? Have you read, critically, Coleridge's poem of "Christabel,"
+and Keats's "Lamia"? If so, can you understand them, or find any
+physiological foundation for the story of either?
+
+There is another set of questions of a different nature I should like to
+ask, but it is hardly fair to put so many on a single sheet. There
+is one, however, you must answer. Do you think there may be
+predispositions, inherited or ingrafted, but at any rate constitutional,
+which shall take out certain apparently voluntary determinations
+from the control of the will, and leave them as free from moral
+responsibility as the instincts of the lower animals? Do you not think
+there may be a _crime_ which is not a _sin_?
+
+Pardon me, my dear Sir, for troubling you with such a list of notes of
+interrogation. There are some _very strange_ things going on here in
+this place, country-town as it is. Country-life is apt to be dull; but
+when it once gets going, it beats the city hollow, because it gives its
+whole mind to what it is about. These rural sinners make terrible work
+with the middle of the Decalogue, when they get started. However, I hope
+I shall live through my year's school-keeping without catastrophes,
+though there are queer doings about me which puzzle me and might scare
+some people. If anything _should_ happen, you will be one of the first
+to hear of it, no doubt. But I trust not to help out the editors of the
+"Rockland Weekly Universe" with an obituary of the late lamented, who
+signed himself in life
+
+Your friend and pupil,
+
+BERNARD C. LANGDON.
+
+
+_The Professor to Mr. Langdon._
+
+MY DEAR MR. LANGDON,--
+
+I do not wonder that you find no answer from your country friends to the
+curious questions you put. They belong to that middle region between
+science and poetry which sensible men, as they are called, are very shy
+of meddling with. Some people think that truth and gold are always to be
+washed for; but the wiser sort are of opinion, that, unless there are so
+many grains to the peck of sand or nonsense respectively, it does not
+pay to wash for either, as long as one can find anything else to do. I
+don't doubt there is some truth in the phenomena of animal magnetism,
+for instance; but when you ask me to cradle for it, I tell you that
+the hysteric girls cheat so, and the professionals are such a set of
+pickpockets, that I can do something better than hunt for the grains of
+truth among their tricks and lies. Do you remember what I used to say in
+my lectures?--or were you asleep just then, or cutting your initials on
+the rail? (You see I can ask questions, my young friend.) _Leverage_ is
+everything,--was what I used to say;--don't begin to pry till you have
+got the long arm on your side.
+
+To please you, and satisfy your doubts as far as possible, I have looked
+into the old books,--into Schenckius and Turner and Kenelm Digby and the
+rest, where I have found plenty of curious stories which you must take
+for what they are worth.
+
+Your first question I can answer in the affirmative upon pretty good
+authority. Mizaldus tells, in his "Memorabilia," the well-known story
+of the girl fed on poisons, who was sent by the king of the Indies
+to Alexander the Great. "When Aristotle saw her eyes _sparkling and
+snapping like those of serpents_, he said, 'Look out for yourself,
+Alexander! this is a dangerous companion for you!'"--and sure enough,
+the young lady proved to be a very unsafe person to her friends.
+Cardanus gets a story from Avicenna, of a certain man bit by a serpent,
+who recovered of his bite, the snake dying therefrom. This man
+afterwards had a daughter whom no venomous serpent could harm, though
+_she had a fatal power over them_.
+
+I suppose you may remember the statements of old authors about
+_lycanthropy_, the disease in which men took on the nature and aspect of
+wolves. Aetius and Paulus, both men of authority, describe it. Altomaris
+gives a horrid case; and Fincelius mentions one occurring as late as
+1541, the subject of which was captured, still _insisting that he was a
+wolf_, only that the hair of his hide was turned in! _Versipelles_, it
+may be remembered, was the Latin name for these "were-wolves."
+
+As for the cases where rabid persons have barked and bit like dogs,
+there are plenty of such on record.
+
+More singular, or at least more rare, is the account given by Andreas
+Baccius, of a man who was struck in the hand by a cock, with his beak,
+and who died on the third day thereafter, looking for all the world
+_like a fighting-cock_, to the great horror of the spectators.
+
+As to impressions transmitted _at a very early period of existence_,
+every one knows the story of King James's fear of a naked sword and the
+way it is accounted for. Sir Kenelm Digby says,--"I remember when he
+dubbed me Knight, in the ceremony of putting the point of a naked sword
+upon my shoulder, he could not endure to look upon it, but turned his
+face another way, insomuch, that, in lieu of touching my shoulder, he
+had almost thrust the point into my eyes, had not the Duke of Buckingham
+guided his hand aright." It is he, too, who tells the story of the
+_mulberry mark_ upon the neck of a certain lady of high condition, which
+"every year, in mulberry season, did swell, grow big, and itch." And
+Gaffarel mentions the case of a girl born with the figure of a _fish_ on
+one of her limbs, of which the wonder was, that, when the girl did eat
+fish, this mark put her to sensible pain. But there is no end to cases
+of this kind, and I could give some of recent date, if necessary,
+lending a certain plausibility at least to the doctrine of transmitted
+impressions.
+
+I never saw a distinct case of _evil eye_, though I have seen eyes so
+bad that they might produce strange effects on very sensitive natures.
+But the belief in it under various names, fascination, _jettatura_,
+etc., is so permanent and universal, from Egypt to Italy, and from the
+days of Solomon to those of Ferdinand of Naples, that there must be some
+_peculiarity_, to say the least, on which the opinion is based. There is
+very strong evidence that some such power is exercised by certain of the
+lower animals. Thus, it is stated on good authority that "almost every
+animal becomes panic-struck at the sight of the _rattlesnake_, and seems
+at once deprived of the power of motion, or the exercise of its usual
+instinct of self-preservation." Other serpents seem to share this power
+of fascination, as the _Cobra_ and the _Bucephalus Capensis_. Some think
+that it is nothing but fright; others attribute it to the
+
+ "strange powers that lie
+ Within the magic circle of the eye,"--
+
+as Churchill said, speaking of Garrick.
+
+You ask me about those mysterious and frightful intimacies between
+children and serpents of which so many instances have been recorded. I
+am sure I cannot tell what to make of them. I have seen several such
+accounts in recent papers, but here is one published in the seventeenth
+century which is as striking as any of the more modern ones:--
+
+"Mr. _Herbert Jones_ of _Monmouth_, when he was a little Boy, was used
+to eat his Milk in a Garden in the Morning, and was no sooner there, but
+a large Snake always came, and eat out of the Dish with him, and did so
+for a considerable time, till one Morning, he striking the Snake on the
+Head, it hissed at him. Upon which he told his Mother that the Baby (for
+so he call'd it) cry'd _Hiss_ at him. His Mother had it kill'd, which
+occasioned him a great _Fit of Sickness_, and 'twas thought would have
+dy'd, but did recover."
+
+There was likewise one "_William Writtle_, condemned at _Maidston
+Assizes_ for a double murder, told a Minister that was with him after he
+was condemned, that his mother told him, that when he was a Child, there
+crept always to him a Snake, wherever she laid him. Sometimes she would
+convey him up Stairs, and leave him never so little, she should be sure
+to find a Snake in the Cradle with him, but never perceived it did him
+any harm."
+
+One of the most striking alleged facts connected with the mysterious
+relation existing between the serpent and the human species is the
+influence which the poison of the _Crotalus_, taken internally, seemed
+to produce over the _moral faculties_, in the experiments instituted by
+Dr. Hering at Surinam. There is something frightful in the disposition
+of certain ophidians, as the whip-snake, which darts at the eyes of
+cattle without any apparent provocation or other motive. It is natural
+enough that the evil principle should have been represented in the form
+of a serpent, but it is strange to think of introducing it into a human
+being like cow-pox by vaccination.
+
+You know all about the _Psylli_, or ancient serpent-tamers, I suppose.
+Savary gives an account of the modern serpent-tamers in his "Letters on
+Egypt." These modern jugglers are in the habit of making the venomous
+_Naja_ counterfeit death, lying out straight and stiff, _changing it
+into a rod_, as the ancient magicians did with their serpents, (probably
+the same animal,) in the time of Moses.
+
+I am afraid I cannot throw much light on "Christabel" or "Lamia" by any
+criticism I can offer. Geraldine, in the former, seems to be simply
+a malignant witch-woman, with the _evil eye_, but with no absolute
+ophidian relationship. Lamia is a serpent transformed by magic into
+a woman. The idea of both is mythological, and not in any sense
+physiological. Some women unquestionably suggest the image of serpents;
+men rarely or never. I have been struck, like many others, with the
+ophidian head and eye of the famous Rachel.
+
+Your question about inherited predispositions, as limiting the sphere of
+the will, and, consequently, of moral accountability, opens a very wide
+range of speculation. I can give you only a brief abstract of my own
+opinions on this delicate and difficult subject. Crime and sin, being
+the _preserves_ of two great organized interests, have been guarded
+against all reforming poachers with as great jealousy as the Royal
+Forests. It is so easy to hang a troublesome fellow! It is so much
+simpler to consign a soul to perdition, or gay masses, for money, to
+save it, than to take the blame on ourselves for letting it grow up in
+neglect and run to ruin for want of humanizing influences! They hung
+poor, crazy Bellingham for shooting Mr. Perceval. The ordinary of
+Newgate preached to women who were to swing at Tyburn for a petty theft
+as if they were worse than other people,--just as though he would not
+have been a pickpocket or shoplifter, himself, if he had been born in
+a den of thieves and bred up to steal or starve! The English law never
+began to get hold of the idea that a crime was not necessarily a sin,
+till Hadfield, who thought he was the Saviour of mankind, was tried for
+shooting at George the Third;--lucky for him that he did not hit his
+Majesty!
+
+It is very singular that we recognize all the bodily defects that unfit
+a man for military service, and all the intellectual ones that limit his
+range of thought, but always talk at him as if all his moral powers were
+perfect I suppose we must punish evil-doers as we extirpate vermin; but
+I don't know that we have any more right to judge them than we have to
+judge rats and mice, which are just as good as cats and weasels, though
+we think it necessary to treat them as criminals.
+
+The limitations of human responsibility have never been properly
+studied, unless it be by the phrenologists. You know from my lectures
+that I consider phrenology, as taught, a pseudo-science, and not a
+branch of positive knowledge; but, for all that, we owe it an immense
+debt. It has melted the world's conscience in its crucible and cast it
+in a new mould, with features less like those of Moloch and more like
+those of humanity. If it has failed to demonstrate its system of special
+correspondences, it has proved that there are fixed relations between
+organization and mind and character. It has brought out that great
+doctrine of moral insanity, which has done more to make men charitable
+and soften legal and theological barbarism than any one doctrine that I
+can think of since the message of peace and good-will to men.
+
+Automatic action in the moral world; the _reflex movement_ which _seems_
+to be self-determination, and has been hanged and howled at as such
+(metaphorically) for nobody knows how many centuries: until somebody
+shall study this as Marshall Hall has studied reflex nervous action in
+the bodily system, I would not give much for men's judgments of each
+other's characters. Shut up the robber and the defaulter, we must. But
+what if your oldest boy had been stolen from his cradle and bred in a
+North-Street cellar? What if you are drinking a little too much wine and
+smoking a little too much tobacco, and your son takes after you, and so
+your poor grandson's brain being a little injured in physical texture,
+he loses the fine moral sense on which you pride yourself, and doesn't
+see the difference between signing another man's name to a draft and his
+own?
+
+I suppose the study of automatic action in the moral world (you see what
+I mean through the apparent contradiction of terms) may be a dangerous
+one in the view of many people. It is liable to abuse, no doubt.
+People are always glad to get hold of anything which limits their
+responsibility. But remember that our moral estimates come down to us
+from ancestors who hanged children for stealing forty shillings' worth,
+and sent their souls to perdition for the sin of being born,--who
+punished the unfortunate families of suicides, and in their eagerness
+for justice executed one innocent person every three years, on the
+average, as Sir James Mackintosh tells us.
+
+I do not know in what shape the practical question may present itself to
+you; but I will tell you my rule in life, and I think you will find it
+a good one. _Treat bad men exactly as if they were insane_. They are
+_in-sane_, out of health, morally. Reason, which is food to sound minds,
+is not tolerated, still less assimilated, unless administered with the
+greatest caution; perhaps, not at all. Avoid collision with them, as far
+as you honorably can; keep your temper, if you can,--for one angry man
+is as good as another; restrain them from injury, promptly, completely,
+and with the least possible injury, just as in the case of maniacs,--and
+when you have got rid of them, or got them tied hand and foot so that
+they can do no mischief, sit down and contemplate them charitably,
+remembering that nine-tenths of their perversity comes from outside
+influences, drunken ancestors, abuse in childhood, bad company, from
+which you have happily been preserved, and for some of which you, as a
+member of society, may be fractionally responsible. I think also that
+there are _special influences_ which _work in the blood like ferments_,
+and I have a suspicion that some of those curious old stories I cited
+may have more recent parallels. Have you ever met with any cases which
+admitted of a solution like that which I have mentioned?
+
+Yours very truly,
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_Bernard Langdon to Philip Staples._
+
+MY DEAR PHILIP,--
+
+I have been for some months established in this place, turning the
+main crank of the machinery for the manufactory of accomplishments
+superintended by, or rather worked to the profit of, a certain Mr. Silas
+Peckham. He is a poor wretch, with a little thin fishy blood in his
+body, lean and flat, long-armed and large-handed, thick-jointed
+and thin-muscled,--you know those unwholesome, weak-eyed, half-fed
+creatures, that look not fit to be round among live folks, and yet not
+quite dead enough to bury. If you ever hear of my being in court to
+answer to a charge of assault and battery, you may guess that I have
+been giving him a thrashing to settle off old scores; for he is a
+tyrant, and has come pretty near killing his principal lady-assistant
+with overworking her and keeping her out of all decent privileges.
+
+Helen Darley is this lady's name,--twenty-two or -three years old,
+I should think,--a very sweet, pale woman,--daughter of the usual
+country-clergyman,--thrown on her own resources from an early age, and
+the rest: a common story, but an uncommon person,--very. All conscience
+and sensibility, I should say,--a cruel worker,--no kind of regard for
+herself,--seems as fragile and supple as a young willow-shoot, but try
+her and you find she has the spring in her of a steel crossbow. I am
+glad I happened to come to this place, if it were only for her sake. I
+have saved that girl's life; I am as sure of it as if I had pulled her
+out of the fire or water.
+
+Of course I'm in love with her, you say,--we always love those whom
+we have benefited: "saved her life,--her love was the reward of his
+devotion," etc., etc., as in a regular set novel. In love, Philip? Well,
+about that,--I love Helen Darley--very much: there is hardly anybody I
+love so well. What a noble creature she is! One of those that just go
+right on, do their own work and everybody else's, killing themselves
+inch by inch without ever thinking about it,--singing and dancing
+at their toil when they begin, worn and saddened after a while, but
+pressing steadily on, tottering by-and-by, and catching at the rail by
+the wayside to help them lift one foot before the other, and at last
+falling, face down, arms stretched forward----
+
+Philip, my boy, do you know I am the sort of man that locks his door
+sometimes and cries his heart out of his eyes,--that can sob like a
+woman and not be ashamed of it? I come of fighting-blood on my mother's
+side, you know; I think I could be savage on occasion. But I am
+tender,--more and more tender as I come into my fulness of manhood. I
+don't like to strike a man, (laugh, if you like,--I know I hit hard
+when I do strike,)--but what I can't stand is the sight of these poor,
+patient, toiling women, that never find out in this life how good they
+are, and never know what it is to be told they are angels while they
+still wear the pleasing incumbrances of humanity. I don't know what to
+make of these cases. To think that a woman is never to be a woman again,
+whatever she may come to as an unsexed angel,--and that she should die
+unloved! Why does not somebody come and carry off this noble woman,
+waiting here all ready to make a man happy? Philip, do you know the
+pathos there is in the eyes of unsought women, oppressed with the burden
+of an inner life unshared? I can see into them now as I could not in
+those earlier days. I sometimes think their pupils dilate on purpose to
+let my consciousness glide through them; indeed, I dread them, I come so
+close to the nerve of the soul itself in these momentary intimacies. You
+used to tell me I was a Turk,--that my heart was full of pigeon-holes,
+with accommodations inside for a whole flock of doves. I don't know but
+I am still as Youngish as ever in my ways,--Brigham-Youngish, I mean;
+at any rate, I always want to give a little love to all the poor things
+that cannot have a whole man to themselves. If they would only be
+contented with a little!
+
+Here now are two girls in this school where I am teaching. One of them,
+Rosa M., is not more than sixteen years old, I think they say; but
+Nature has forced her into a tropical luxuriance of beauty, as if it
+were July with her, instead of May. I suppose it is all natural enough
+that this girl should like a young man's attention, even if he were a
+grave schoolmaster; but the eloquence of this young thing's look
+is unmistakable,--and yet she does not know the language it is
+talking,--they none of them do; and there is where a good many poor
+creatures of our good-for-nothing sex are mistaken. There is no danger
+of my being rash, but I think this girl will cost somebody his life yet.
+She is one of those women men make a quarrel about and fight to the
+death for,--the old feral instinct, you know.
+
+Pray, don't think I am lost in conceit, but there is another girl here
+that I begin to think looks with a certain kindness on me. Her name is
+Elsie V., and she is the only daughter and heiress of an old family in
+this place. She is a portentous and mysterious creature. If I should
+tell you all I know and half of what I fancy about her, you would
+tell me to get my life insured at once. Yet she is the most painfully
+interesting being,--so handsome! so lonely!--for she has no friends
+among the girls, and sits apart from them,--with black hair like the
+flow of a mountain-brook after a thaw, with a low-browed, scowling
+beauty of face, and such eyes as were never seen before, I really
+believe, in any human creature.
+
+Philip, I don't know what to say about this Elsie. There is a mystery
+around her I have not fathomed. I have conjectures about her which
+I could not utter to any living soul. I dare not even hint the
+possibilities which have suggested themselves to me. This I will
+say,--that I do take the most intense interest in this young person, an
+interest much more like pity than love in its common sense. If what I
+guess at is true, of all the tragedies of existence I ever knew this is
+the saddest, and yet so full of meaning! Do not ask me any questions,--I
+have said more than I meant to already; but I am involved in strange
+doubts and perplexities,--in dangers too, very possibly,--and it is a
+relief just to speak ever so guardedly of them to an early and faithful
+friend.
+
+Yours ever, BERNARD.
+
+P. S. I remember you had a copy of Fortunius Licetus "De Monstris" among
+your old books. Can't you lend it to me for a while? I am curious, and
+it will amuse me.
+
+
+
+
+ANNO DOMINI, 1860.
+
+
+ My youth is past!--this morn I stand,
+ With manhood's signet of command,
+ Firm-planted on life's middle-land!
+
+ Behind, the scene recedes afar,
+ Where cloudy mists and vapors mar
+ The lustre of my morning-star.
+
+ I mark the courses of my days,
+ Inwound through many a doubtful maze,--
+ To marvel at those devious ways!
+
+ They lead through hills and levels lone,
+ Green fields, and woodlands overgrown,
+ And where deep waters pulse and moan;--
+
+ By ruined tower, by darksome dell,
+ The home of night-birds fierce and fell,
+ Wherein strange shapes of Horror dwell;--
+
+ Out to the blessed sunshine free,
+ The breezy moors of liberty,
+ And skies outpouring harmony;--
+
+ By palace-wall, by haunted tomb,
+ Through bright and dark, through joy and gloom:
+ My life hath known both blight and bloom.
+
+ And now, as from some mountain-height,
+ Backward I strain my eager sight,
+ Till all the landscape melts in night;--
+
+ Then, whispering to my Heart, "Be bold!"
+ I turn from years whose "tale is told,"
+ To greet the Future's dawn of gold:
+
+ High hopes and nobler labors wait
+ Beyond that Future's opening gate,--
+ Brave deeds which hold the seeds of Fate.
+
+ Thy strength, O Lord, shall fire my blood,
+ Shall nerve my soul, make wise my mood,
+ And win me to the pure and good!
+
+ Or if, O Father, thou shouldst say,
+ "Dark Angel, close his mortal day!"
+ And smite me on my vanward way,--
+
+ Grant that in armor firm and strong,
+ Whilst pealing still Life's battle-song,
+ And struggling, manful, 'gainst the wrong,
+
+ Thy soldier, who would fight to win
+ No crown of dross, no bays of sin,
+ May fall amidst the foremost din
+
+ Of Truth's grand conflict, blest by Thee,--
+ And even though Death should conquer, see
+ How false, how brief his victory!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+DARWIN ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.
+
+[Continued.]
+
+
+"I can entertain no doubt, after the most deliberate study and
+dispassionate judgment of which I am capable, that the view which most
+naturalists entertain, and which I formerly entertained,--namely, that
+each species has been independently created,--is erroneous. I am fully
+convinced that species are not immutable; but that those belonging to
+what are called the same genera are lineal descendants of some other
+and generally extinct species, in the same manner as the acknowledged
+varieties of any one species are the descendants of that species.
+Furthermore, I am convinced that Natural Selection has been the main,
+but not exclusive means of modification."
+
+This is the kernel of the new theory, the Darwinian creed, as recited
+at the close of the introduction to the remarkable book under
+consideration. The questions, "What will he do with it?" and "How far
+will he carry it?" the author answers at the close of the volume: "I
+cannot doubt that the theory of descent with modification embraces all
+the members of the same class." Furthermore, "I believe that all animals
+have descended from at most only four or five progenitors, and plants
+from an equal or lesser number." Seeing that analogy as strongly
+suggests a further step in the same direction, while he protests that
+"analogy may be a deceitful guide," yet he follows its inexorable
+leading to the inference that "probably all the organic beings which
+have ever lived on this earth have descended from some one primordial
+form, into which life was first breathed."[a]
+
+In the first extract we have the thin end of the wedge driven a little
+way; in the last, the wedge is driven home.
+
+We have already (in the preceding number) sketched some of the reasons
+suggestive of such a theory of derivation of species,--reasons which
+give it plausibility, and even no small probability, as applied to our
+actual world and to changes occurring since the latest tertiary period.
+We are well pleased at this moment to find that the conclusions we were
+arriving at in this respect are sustained by the very high authority and
+impartial judgment of Pictet, the Swiss palaeontologist. In his review
+of Darwin's book,[b]--much the fairest and most admirable opposing one
+that has yet appeared,--he freely accepts that _ensemble_ of natural
+operations which Darwin impersonates under the now familiar name of
+Natural Selection, allows that the exposition throughout the first
+chapters seems "_a la fois prudent et fort_" and is disposed to accept
+the whole argument in its foundations, that is, so far as it relates
+to what is now going on, or has taken place in the present geological
+period,--which period he carries back through the diluvial epoch to the
+borders of the tertiary.[c] Pictet accordingly admits that the theory
+will very well account for the origination by divergence of nearly
+related species, whether within the present period or in remoter
+geological times: a very natural view for him to take; since he
+appears to have reached and published, several years ago, the pregnant
+conclusion, that there most probably was some material connection
+between the closely related species of two successive faunas, and that
+the numerous close species, whose limits are so difficult to determine,
+were not all created distinct and independent. But while accepting, or
+ready to accept, the basis of Darwin's theory, and all its legitimate
+direct inferences, he rejects the ultimate conclusions, brings some
+weighty arguments to bear against them, and is evidently convinced that
+he can draw a clear line between the sound inferences, which he favors,
+and the unsound or unwarranted theoretical deductions, which he rejects.
+We hope he can.
+
+[Footnote a: P. 484, Engl. ed. In the new American edition, (_Vide_
+Supplement, pp. 431, 432,) the principal analogies which suggest the
+extreme view are referred to, and the remark is appended,--"But this
+inference is chiefly grounded on analogy, and it is immaterial whether
+or not it be accepted. The case is different with the members of each
+great class, as the Vertebrata or Articulata; for here we have in the
+laws of homology, embryology, etc., some distinct evidence that all have
+descended from a single primordial parent."]
+
+[Footnote b: In _Bibliotheque Universelle de Geneve_, Mars, 1860.]
+
+[Footnote c: This we learn from his very interesting article, _De
+la Question de l'Homme Fossile_, in the same (March) number of the
+_Bibliotheque Universelle_.]
+
+This raises the question, Why does Darwin press his theory to these
+extreme conclusions? Why do all hypotheses of derivation converge so
+inevitably to one ultimate point? Having already considered some of the
+reasons which suggest or support the theory at its outset,--which may
+carry it as far as such sound and experienced naturalists as Pictet
+allow that it may be true,--perhaps as far as Darwin himself unfolds
+it in the introductory proposition cited at the beginning of this
+article,--we may now inquire after the motives which impel the theorist
+so much farther. Here proofs, in the proper sense of the word, are not
+to be had. We are beyond the region of demonstration, and have duly
+probabilities to consider. What are these probabilities? What work
+will this hypothesis do to establish a claim to be adopted in its
+completeness? Why should a theory which may plausibly enough account for
+the _diversification_ of the species of each special type or genus,
+be expanded into a general system for the _origination_ or successive
+diversification of all species, and all special types or forms, from
+four or five remote primordial forms, or perhaps from one? We accept the
+theory of gravitation because it explains all the facts we know, and
+bears all the tests that we can put it to. We incline to accept the
+nebular hypothesis, for similar reasons; not because it is proved,--thus
+far it is wholly incapable of proof,--but because it is a natural
+theoretical deduction from accepted physical laws, is thoroughly
+congruous with the facts, and because its assumption serves to connect
+and harmonize these into one probable and consistent whole. Can the
+derivative hypothesis be maintained and carried out into a system on
+similar grounds? If so, however unproved, it would appear to be a
+tenable hypothesis, which is all that its author ought now to claim.
+Such hypotheses as from the conditions of the case can neither be proved
+nor disproved by direct evidence or experiment are to be tested only
+indirectly, and therefore imperfectly, by trying their power to
+harmonize the known facts, and to account for what is otherwise
+unaccountable. So the question comes to this:
+
+What will an hypothesis of the derivation of species explain which the
+opposing view leaves unexplained?
+
+Questions these which ought to be entertained before we take up the
+arguments which have been advanced against this theory. We can only
+glance at some of the considerations which Darwin adduces, or will be
+sure to adduce in the future and fuller exposition which is promised.
+To display them in such wise as to indoctrinate the unscientific reader
+would require a volume. Merely to refer to them in the most general
+terms would suffice for those familiar with scientific matters, but
+would scarcely enlighten those who are not. Wherefore let these trust
+the impartial Pictet, who freely admits, that, "in the absence of
+sufficient direct proofs to justify the possibility of his hypothesis,
+Mr. Darwin relies upon indirect proofs, the bearing of which is real and
+incontestable"; who concedes that "his theory accords very well with the
+great facts of comparative anatomy and zooelogy,--comes in admirably to
+explain unity of composition of organisms, also to explain rudimentary
+and representative organs, and the natural series of genera and
+species,--equally corresponds with many palaeontological data,--agrees
+well with the specific resemblances which exist between two successive
+faunas, with the parallelism which is sometimes observed between the
+series of palaeontological succession and of embryonal development,"
+etc.; and finally, although he does not accept the theory in these
+results, he allows that "it appears to offer the best means of
+explaining the manner in which organized beings were produced in epochs
+anterior to our own."
+
+What more than this could be said for such an hypothesis? Here,
+probably, is its charm, and its strong hold upon the speculative mind.
+Unproven though it be, and cumbered _prima facie_ with cumulative
+improbabilities as it proceeds, yet it singularly accords with great
+classes of facts otherwise insulated and enigmatic, and explains many
+things which are thus far utterly inexplicable upon any other scientific
+assumption.
+
+We have said (p. 116) that Darwin's hypothesis is the natural complement
+to Lyell's uniformitarian theory in physical geology. It is for the
+organic world what that popular view is for the inorganic; and the
+accepters of the latter stand in a position from which to regard the
+former in the most favorable light. Wherefore the rumor that the
+cautious Lyell himself has adopted the Darwinian hypothesis need not
+surprise us. The two views are made for each other, and, like the two
+counterpart pictures for the stereoscope, when brought together, combine
+into one apparently solid whole.
+
+If we allow, with Pictet, that Darwin's theory will very well serve for
+all that concerns the present epoch of the world's history,--an epoch
+which this renowned palaeontologist regards as including the diluvial or
+quaternary period,--then Darwin's first and foremost need in his onward
+course is a practicable road from this into and through the tertiary
+period, the intervening region between the comparatively near and the
+far remote past. Here Lyell's doctrine paves the way, by showing that in
+the physical geology there is no general or absolute break between the
+two, probably no greater between the latest tertiary and the quaternary
+period than between the latter and the present time. So far, the
+Lyellian view is, we suppose, generally concurred in. Now as to the
+organic world, it is largely admitted that numerous tertiary species
+have continued down into the quaternary, and many of them to the present
+time. A goodly percentage of the earlier and nearly half of the later
+tertiary mollusca, according to Des Hayes, Lyell, and, if we mistake
+not, Bronn, still live. This identification, however, is now questioned
+by a naturalist of the very highest authority. But, in its bearings on
+the new theory, the point here turns not upon absolute identity so
+much as upon close resemblance. For those who, with Agassiz, doubt the
+specific identity in any of these cases, and those who say, with Pictet,
+that "the later tertiary deposits contain in general the _debris_ of
+species _very nearly related_ to those which still exist, belonging to
+the same genera, but specifically different," may also agree with Pictet
+that the nearly related species of successive faunas must or may have
+had "a material connection." Now the only material connection that
+we have an idea of in such a case is a genealogical one. And the
+supposition of a genealogical connection is surely not unnatural in such
+cases,--is demonstrably the natural one as respects all those tertiary
+species which experienced naturalists have pronounced to be identical
+with existing ones, but which others now deem distinct. For to identify
+the two is the same thing as to conclude the one to be the ancestors of
+the other. No doubt there are differences between the tertiary and
+the present individuals, differences equally noted by both classes of
+naturalists, but differently estimated. By the one these are deemed
+quite compatible, by the other incompatible, with community of origin.
+But who can tell us what amount of difference is compatible with
+community of origin? This is the very question at issue, and one to be
+settled by observation alone. Who would have thought that the peach and
+the nectarine came from one stock? But, this being proved, is it now
+very improbable that both were derived from the almond, or from some
+common amygdaline progenitor? Who would have thought that the cabbage,
+cauliflower, broccoli, kale, and kohlrabi are derivatives of one
+species, and rape or colza, turnip, and probably rutabaga, of another
+species? And who that is convinced of this can long undoubtingly hold
+the original distinctness of turnips from cabbages as an article of
+faith? On scientific grounds may not a primordial cabbage or rape be
+assumed as the ancestor of all the cabbage races, on much the same
+ground that we assume a common ancestry for the diversified human races?
+If all our breeds of cattle came from one stock, why not this stock from
+the auroch, which has had all the time between the diluvial and the
+historic periods in which to set off a variation perhaps no greater than
+the difference between some sorts of cattle?
+
+That considerable differences are often discernible between tertiary
+individuals and their supposed descendants of the present day affords
+no argument against Darwin's theory, as has been rashly thought, but is
+decidedly in its favor. If the identification were so perfect that no
+more differences were observable between the tertiary and the recent
+shells than between various individuals of either, then Darwin's
+opponents, who argue the immutability of species from the ibises and
+cats preserved by the ancient Egyptians being just like those of the
+present day, could triumphantly add a few hundred thousand years more to
+the length of the experiment and to the force of their argument. As the
+facts stand, it appears, that, while some tertiary forms are essentially
+undistinguishable from existing ones, others are the same with a
+difference, which is judged not to be specific or aboriginal, and yet
+others show somewhat greater differences, such as are scientifically
+expressed by calling them marked varieties, or else doubtful species;
+while others, differing a little more, are confidently termed distinct,
+but nearly related species. Now is not all this a question of degree,
+of mere gradation of difference? Is it at all likely that these several
+gradations came to be established in two totally different ways,--some
+of them (though naturalists can't agree which) through natural
+variation, or other secondary cause, and some by original creation,
+without secondary cause? We have seen that the judicious Pictet answers
+such questions as Darwin would have him do, in affirming, that, in all
+probability, the nearly related species of two successive faunas were
+materially connected, and that contemporaneous species, similarly
+resembling each other, were not all created so, but have become so. This
+is equivalent to saying that species (using the term as all naturalists
+do and must continue to employ the word) have only a relative, not an
+absolute fixity; that differences fully equivalent to what are held to
+be specific may arise in the course of time, so that one species may at
+length be naturally replaced by another species a good deal like it, or
+may be diversified through variation or otherwise into two, three, or
+more species, or forms as different as species. This concedes all that
+Darwin has a right to ask, all that he can directly infer from evidence.
+We must add that it affords a _locus standi_, more or less tenable, for
+inferring more.
+
+Here another geological consideration comes in to help on this
+inference. The species of the later tertiary period for the most part
+not only resembled those of our days, many of them so closely as to
+suggest an absolute continuity, but, also occupied in general the same
+regions that their relatives occupy now. The same may be said, though
+less specially, of the earlier tertiary and of the later secondary; but
+there is less and less localization of forms as we recede, yet some
+localization even in palaeozoic times. While in the secondary period one
+is struck with the similarity of forms and the identity of many of the
+species which flourished apparently at the same time in all or in the
+most widely separated parts of the world, in the tertiary epoch, on the
+contrary, along with the increasing specialization of climates and
+their approximation to the present state, we find abundant evidence
+of increasing localization of orders, genera, and species; and
+this localization strikingly accords with the present geographical
+distribution of the same groups of species. Where the imputed
+forefathers lived, their relatives and supposed descendants now
+flourish. All the actual classes of the animal and vegetable kingdoms
+were represented in the tertiary faunas and floras, and in nearly the
+same proportions and the same diversities as at present. The faunas of
+what is now Europe, Asia, America, and Australia differed from
+each other much as they now differ: in fact,--according to Adolphe
+Brongniart, whose statements we here condense,[a]--the inhabitants of
+these different regions appear for the most part to have acquired,
+before the close of the tertiary period, the characters which
+essentially distinguish their existing faunas. The eastern continent
+had then, as now, its great pachyderms, elephants, rhinoceros, and
+hippopotamus; South America its armadillos, sloths, and ant-eaters;
+Australia a crowd of marsupials; and the very strange birds of New
+Zealand had predecessors of similar strangeness. Everywhere the same
+geographical distribution as now, with a difference in the particular
+area, as respects the northern portion of the continents, answering to a
+warmer climate then than ours, such as allowed species of hippopotamus,
+rhinoceros, and elephant to range even to the regions now inhabited
+by the reindeer and the musk-ox, and with the serious disturbing
+intervention of the glacial period within a comparatively recent time.
+Let it be noted, also, that those tertiary species which have continued
+with little change down to our days are the marine animals of the
+lower grades, especially mollusca. Their low organization, moderate
+sensibility, and the simple conditions of an existence in a medium
+like the ocean, not subject to great variation and incapable of sudden
+change, may well account for their continuance; while, on the other
+hand, the more intense, however gradual, climatic vicissitudes on land,
+which have driven all tropical and sub-tropical forms out of the higher
+latitudes and assigned to them their actual limits, would be almost sure
+to extinguish such huge and unwieldy animals as mastodons, mammoths, and
+the like, whose power of enduring altered circumstances must have been
+small.
+
+[Footnote a: In _Comptes Rendus, Acad. des Sciences_, Fevr. 2, 1857.]
+
+This general replacement of the tertiary species of a country by
+others so much like them is a noteworthy fact. The hypothesis of the
+independent creation of all species, irrespective of their antecedents,
+leaves this fact just as mysterious as is creation itself; that of
+derivation undertakes to account for it. Whether it satisfactorily does
+so or not, it must be allowed that the facts well accord with that
+assumption.
+
+The same may be said of another conclusion, namely, that the geological
+succession of animals and plants appears to correspond in a general
+way with their relative standing or rank in a natural system of
+classification. It seems clear, that, though no one of the _grand types_
+of the animal kingdom can be traced back farther than the rest, yet the
+lower _classes_ long preceded the higher; that there has been on the
+whole a steady progression within each class and order; and that the
+highest plants and animals have appeared only in relatively modern
+times. It is only, however, in a broad sense that this generalization
+is now thought to hold good. It encounters many apparent exceptions and
+sundry real ones. So far as the rule holds, all is as it should be upon
+an hypothesis of derivation.
+
+The rule has its exceptions. But, curiously enough, the most striking
+class of exceptions, if such they be, seems to us even more favorable to
+the doctrine of derivation than is the general rule of a pure and simple
+ascending gradation. We refer to what Agassiz calls prophetic and
+synthetic types; for which the former name may suffice, as the
+difference between the two is evanescent.
+
+"It has been noticed," writes our great zooelogist, "that certain types,
+which are frequently prominent among the representatives of past ages,
+combine in their structure peculiarities which at later periods are only
+observed separately in different, distinct types. Sauroid fishes before
+reptiles, Pterodactyles before birds, Ichthyosauri before dolphins, etc.
+There are entire families, of nearly every class of animals, which
+in the state of their perfect development exemplify such prophetic
+relations.... The sauroid fishes of the past geological ages are an
+example of this kind. These fishes, which preceded the appearance of
+reptiles, present a combination of ichthyic and reptilian characters not
+to be found in the true members of this class, which form its bulk at
+present. The Pterodactyles, which preceded the class of birds, and the
+Ichthyosauri, which preceded the Cetaeca, are other examples of such
+prophetic types."[a]
+
+[Footnote a: Agassiz, _Contributions: Essay on Classification_, p.
+117, where, we may be permitted to note, the word "Crustacea" is by a
+typographical error printed in place of _Cetacea_.]
+
+Now these reptile-like fishes, of which gar-pikes are the living
+representatives, though of earlier appearance, are admittedly of higher
+rank than common fishes. They dominated until reptiles appeared, when
+they mostly gave place to--or, as the derivationists will insist, were
+resolved by divergent variation and natural selection into--common
+fishes, destitute of reptilian characters, and saurian reptiles, the
+intermediate grades, which, according to a familiar piscine saying,
+are "neither fish, flesh, nor good red-herring," being eliminated and
+extinguished by natural consequence of the struggle for existence which
+Darwin so aptly portrays. And so, perhaps, of the other prophetic types.
+Here type and antitype correspond. If these are true prophecies, we need
+not wonder that some who read them in Agassiz's book will read their
+fulfilment in Darwin's.
+
+Note also, in tins connection, that, along with a wonderful persistence
+of type, with change of species, genera, orders, etc., from formation to
+formation, no species and no higher group which has once unequivocally
+died out ever afterwards reappears. Why is this, but that the link of
+generation has been sundered? Why, on the hypothesis of independent
+originations, were not failing species re-created, either identically or
+with a difference, in regions eminently adapted to their well-being? To
+take a striking case. That no part of the world now offers more suitable
+conditions for wild horses and cattle than the Pampas and other plains
+of South America is shown by the facility with which they have there run
+wild and enormously multiplied, since introduced from the Old World not
+long ago. There was no wild American stock. Yet in the times of the
+Mastodon and Megatherium, at the dawn of the present period, wild
+horses and cattle--the former certainly very much like the existing
+horse--roamed over those plains in abundance. On the principle of
+original and direct created adaptation of species to climate and other
+conditions, why were these types not reproduced, when, after the colder
+intervening era, those regions became again eminently adapted to such
+animals? Why, but because, by their complete extinction in South
+America, the line of descent was here utterly broken? Upon the ordinary
+hypothesis, there is no scientific explanation possible of this series
+of facts, and of many others like them. Upon the new hypothesis, "the
+succession of the same types of structure within the same areas during
+the later geological periods ceases to be mysterious, and is simply
+explained by inheritance." Their cessation is failure of issue.
+
+Along with these considerations the fact (alluded to on p. 114) should
+be remembered, that, as a general thing, related species of the present
+age are geographically associated. The larger part of the plants, and
+still more of the animals, of each separate country are peculiar to
+it; and, as most species now flourish over the graves of their by-gone
+relatives of former ages, so they now dwell among or accessibly near
+their kindred species.
+
+Here also comes in that general "parallelism between the order of
+succession of animals and plants in geological times, and the gradation
+among their living representatives" from low to highly organized,
+from simple and general to complex and specialized forms; also "the
+parallelism between the order of succession of animals in geological
+times--and the changes their living representatives undergo during their
+embryological growth,"--as if the world were one prolonged gestation.
+Modern science has much insisted on this parallelism, and to a certain
+extent is allowed to have made it out. All these things, which conspire
+to prove that the ancient and the recent forms of life "are somehow
+intimately connected together in one grand system," equally conspire to
+suggest that the connection is one similar or analogous to generation.
+Surely no naturalist can be blamed for entering somewhat confidently
+upon a field of speculative inquiry which here opens so invitingly; nor
+need former premature endeavors and failures utterly dishearten him.
+
+All these things, it may naturally be said, go to explain the order, not
+the mode, of the incoming of species. But they all do tend to bring out
+the generalization expressed by Mr. Wallace in the formula, that "every
+species has come into existence coincident both in time and space with
+preexisting closely allied species." Not, however, that this is proved
+even of existing species as a matter of general fact. It is obviously
+impossible to _prove_ anything of the kind. But we must concede that the
+known facts strongly suggest such an inference. And since species are
+only congeries of individuals, and every individual came into existence
+in consequence of preexisting individuals of the same sort, so leading
+up to the individuals with which the species began, and since the only
+material sequence we know of among plants and animals is that from
+parent to progeny, the presumption becomes exceedingly strong that
+the connection of the incoming with the preexisting species is a
+genealogical one.
+
+Here, however, all depends upon the probability that Mr. Wallace's
+inference is really true. Certainly it is not yet generally accepted;
+but a strong current is setting towards its acceptance.
+
+So long as universal cataclysms were in vogue, and all life upon the
+earth was thought to have been suddenly destroyed and renewed many times
+in succession, such a view could not be thought of. So the equivalent
+view maintained by Agassiz, and formerly, we believe, by D'Orbigny,
+that, irrespectively of general and sudden catastrophes, or any known
+adequate physical cause, there has been a total depopulation at the
+close of each geological period or formation, say forty or fifty times,
+or more, followed by as many independent great acts of creation, at
+which alone have species been originated, and at each of which a
+vegetable and an animal kingdom were produced entire and complete,
+full-fledged, as flourishing, as wide-spread and populous, as varied and
+mutually adapted from the beginning as ever afterwards,--such a view, of
+course, supersedes all material connection between successive species,
+and removes even the association and geographical range of species
+entirely out of the domain of physical causes and of natural science.
+This is the extreme opposite of Wallace's and Darwin's view, and is
+quite as hypothetical. The nearly universal opinion, if we rightly
+gather it, manifestly is, that the replacement of the species of
+successive formations was not complete and simultaneous, but partial
+and successive; and that along the course of each epoch some species
+probably were introduced, and some, doubtless, became extinct. If all
+since the tertiary belongs to our present epoch, this is certainly true
+of it: if to two or more epochs, then the hypothesis of a total change
+is not true of them.
+
+Geology makes huge demands upon time; and we regret to find that it has
+exhausted ours,--that what we meant for the briefest and most general
+sketch of some geological considerations in favor of Darwin's hypothesis
+has so extended as to leave no room for considering "the great facts of
+comparative anatomy and zooelogy" with which Darwin's theory "very well
+accords," nor for indicating how "it admirably serves for explaining the
+unity of composition of all organisms, the existence of representative
+and rudimentary organs, and the natural series which genera and species
+compose." Suffice it to say that these are the real strongholds of the
+new system on its theoretical side; that it goes far towards explaining
+both the physiological and the structural gradations and relations
+between the two kingdoms, and the arrangement of all their forms in
+groups subordinate to groups, all within a few great types; that it
+reads the riddle of abortive organs and of morphological conformity, of
+which no other theory has ever offered a scientific explanation, and
+supplies a ground for harmonizing the two fundamental ideas which
+naturalists and philosophers conceive to have ruled the organic world,
+though they could not reconcile them, namely: Adaptation to Purpose and
+the Conditions of Existence, and Unity of Type. To reconcile these two
+undeniable principles is a capital problem in the philosophy of natural
+history; and the hypothesis which consistently does so thereby secures a
+great advantage.
+
+We all know that the arm and hand of a monkey, the foreleg and foot of
+a dog and of a horse, the wing of a bat, and the fin of a porpoise are
+fundamentally identical; that the long neck of the giraffe has the same
+and no more bones than the short one of the elephant; that the eggs of
+Surinam frogs hatch into tadpoles with as good tails for swimming as any
+of their kindred, although as tadpoles they never enter the water; that
+the Guinea-pig is furnished with incisor teeth which it never uses,
+as it sheds them before birth; that embryos of mammals and birds
+have branchial slits and arteries running in loops, in imitation or
+reminiscence of the arrangement which is permanent in fishes; and that
+thousands of animals and plants have rudimentary organs which, at least
+in numerous cases, are wholly useless to their possessors, etc., etc.
+Upon a derivative theory this morphological conformity is explained by
+community of descent; and it has not been explained in any other way.
+
+Naturalists are constantly speaking of "related species," of
+the "affinity" of a genus or other group, and of "family
+resemblance,"--vaguely conscious that these terms of kinship are
+something more than mere metaphors, but unaware of the grounds of their
+aptness. Mr. Darwin assures them that they have been talking derivative
+doctrine all their lives without knowing it.
+
+If it is difficult and in some cases practically impossible to fix the
+limits of species, it is still more so to fix those of genera; and those
+of tribes and families are still less susceptible of exact natural
+circumscription. Intermediate forms occur, connecting one group with
+another in a manner sadly perplexing to systematists, except to those
+who have ceased to expect absolute limitations in Nature. All this
+blending could hardly fail to suggest a former material connection among
+allied forms, such as that which an hypothesis of derivation demands.
+
+Here it would not be amiss to consider the general principle of
+gradation throughout organic Nature,--a principle which answers in a
+general way to the law of continuity in the inorganic world, or
+rather is so analogous to it that both may fairly be expressed by
+the Leibnitzian axiom, _Natura non agit saltatim_. As an axiom or
+philosophical principle, used to test modal laws or hypotheses, this in
+strictness belongs only to physics. In the investigation of Nature at
+large, at least in the organic world, nobody would undertake to apply
+this principle as a test of the validity of any theory or supposed law.
+But naturalists of enlarged views will not fail to infer the principle
+from the phenomena they investigate,--to perceive that the rule holds,
+under due qualifications and altered forms, throughout the realm of
+Nature; although we do not suppose that Nature in the organic world
+makes no distinct steps, but only short and serial steps,--not
+infinitely fine gradations, but no long leaps, or few of them.
+
+To glance at a few illustrations out of many that present themselves. It
+would be thought that the distinction between the two organic kingdoms
+was broad and absolute. Plants and animals belong to two very different
+categories, fulfil opposite offices, and, as to the mass of them, are
+so unlike that the difficulty of the ordinary observer would be to find
+points of comparison. Without entering into details, which would fill an
+article, we may safely say that the difficulty with the naturalist is
+all the other way,--that all these broad differences vanish one by one
+as we approach the lower confines of the two kingdoms, and that no
+_absolute_ distinction whatever is now known between them. It is quite
+possible that the same organism may be both vegetable and animal, or may
+be first the one and then the other. If some organisms may be said to be
+at first vegetables and then animals, others, like the spores and other
+reproductive bodies of many of the lower Algae, may equally claim to
+have first a characteristically animal, and then an unequivocally
+vegetable existence. Nor is the gradation purely restricted to these
+simple organisms. It appears in general functions, as in that of
+reproduction, which is reducible to the same formula in both kingdoms,
+while it exhibits close approximations in the lower forms; also in a
+common or similar ground of sensibility in the lowest forms of both,
+a common faculty of effecting movements tending to a determinate end,
+traces of which pervade the vegetable kingdom,--while on the other hand,
+this indefinable principle, this vegetable _animula vagula, blandula_,
+graduates into the higher sensitiveness of the lower class of animals.
+Nor need we hesitate to recognize the fine gradations from simple
+sensitiveness and volition to the higher instinctive and other psychical
+manifestations of the higher brute animals. The gradation is undoubted,
+however we may explain it. Again, propagation is of one mode in the
+higher animals, of two in all plants; but vegetative propagation, by
+budding or offshoots, extends through the lower grades of animals. In
+both kingdoms there may be separation of the offshoots, or indifference
+in this respect, or continued and organic union with the parent stock;
+and this either with essential independence of the offshoots, or with
+a subordination of these to a common whole, or finally with such
+subordination and amalgamation, along with specialization of function,
+that the same parts, which in other cases can be regarded only as
+progeny, in these become only members of an individual.
+
+This leads to the question of individuality, a subject quite too large
+and too recondite for present discussion. The conclusion of the whole
+matter, however, is, that individuality--that very ground of _being_ as
+distinguished from _thing_--is not attained in Nature at one leap. If
+anywhere truly exemplified in plants, it is only in the lowest and
+simplest, where the being is a structural unit, a single cell,
+memberless and organless, though organic,--the same thing as those cells
+of which all the more complex plants are built up, and with which every
+plant and (structurally) every animal began its development. In the
+ascending gradation of the vegetable kingdom individuality is, so to
+say, striven after, but never attained; in the lower animals it is
+striven after with greater, though incomplete success; it is realized
+only in animals of so high a rank that vegetative multiplication or
+offshoots are out of the question, where all parts are strictly
+members and nothing else, and all subordinated to a common nervous
+centre,--fully realized, perhaps, only in a conscious person.
+
+So, also, the broad distinction between reproduction by seeds or ova and
+propagation by buds, though perfect in some of the lowest forms of life,
+becomes evanescent in others; and even the most absolute law we know in
+the physiology of genuine reproduction, that of sexual co-operation,
+has its exceptions in both kingdoms in parthenogenesis, to which in the
+vegetable kingdom a most curious series of gradations leads. In plants,
+likewise, a long and most finely graduated series of transitions leads
+from bisexual to unisexual blossoms; and so in various other respects.
+Everywhere we may perceive that Nature secures her ends, and makes her
+distinctions on the whole manifest and real, but everywhere without
+abrupt breaks. We need not wonder, therefore, that gradations between
+species and varieties should occur; the more so, since genera, tribes,
+and other groups into which the naturalist collocates species are
+far from being always absolutely limited in Nature, though they are
+necessarily represented to be so in systems. From the necessity of the
+case, the classifications of the naturalist abruptly define where Nature
+more or less blends. Our systems are nothing, if not definite. They
+are intended to express differences, and perhaps some of the coarser
+gradations. But this evinces, not their perfection, but their
+imperfection. Even the best of them are to the system of Nature what
+consecutive patches of the seven colors are to the rainbow.
+
+Now the principle of gradation throughout organic Nature may, of
+course, be interpreted upon other assumptions than those of Darwin's
+hypothesis,--certainly upon quite other than those of materialistic
+philosophy, with which we ourselves have no sympathy. Still we conceive
+it not only possible, but probable, that this gradation, as it has its
+natural ground, may yet have its scientific explanation. In any case,
+there is no need to deny that the general facts correspond well with an
+hypothesis like Darwin's, which is built upon fine gradations.
+
+We have contemplated quite long enough the general presumptions in
+favor of an hypothesis of the derivation of species. We cannot forget,
+however, while for the moment we overlook, the formidable difficulties
+which all hypotheses of this class have to encounter, and the serious
+implications which they seem to involve. We feel, moreover, that
+Darwin's particular hypothesis is exposed to some special objections. It
+requires no small strength of nerve steadily to conceive not only of
+the variation, but of the formation of the organs of an animal through
+cumulative variation and natural selection. Think of such an organ as
+the eye, that most perfect of optical instruments, as so produced in the
+lower animals and perfected in the higher! A friend of ours, who accepts
+the new doctrine, confesses that for a long while a cold chill came over
+him whenever he thought of the eye. He has at length got over that stage
+of the complaint, and is now in the fever of belief, perchance to be
+succeeded by the sweating stage, during which sundry peccant humors may
+be eliminated from the system.
+
+For ourselves, we dread the chill, and have some misgiving about the
+consequences of the reaction. We find ourselves in the "singular
+position" acknowledged by Pictet,--that is, confronted with a theory
+which, although it can really explain much, seems inadequate to the
+heavy task it so boldly assumes, but which, nevertheless, appears better
+fitted than any other that has been broached to explain, if it be
+possible to explain, somewhat of the manner in which organized beings
+may have arisen and succeeded each other. In this dilemma we might take
+advantage of Mr. Darwin's candid admission, that he by no means expects
+to convince old and experienced people, whose minds are stocked with a
+multitude of facts all viewed during a long course of years from the old
+point of view. This is nearly our case. So, owning no call to a larger
+faith than is expected of us, but not prepared to pronounce the whole
+hypothesis untenable, under such construction as we should put upon it,
+we naturally sought to attain a settled conviction through a perusal
+of several proffered refutations of the theory. At least, this course
+seemed to offer the readiest way of bringing to a head the various
+objections to which the theory is exposed. On several accounts some
+of these opposed reviews specially invite examination. We propose,
+accordingly, to conclude our task with an article upon "Darwin and his
+Reviewers."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+_Modern Painters_. By J. RUSKIN. Vol. V. Smith, Elder, & Co. London.
+
+The completion of a work of the importance of the "Modern Painters,"
+which has occupied in its production the thought and a large portion of
+the labor of fourteen years, is an event of more interest than it often
+falls to the lot of a book to excite; but when, as in this case, the
+result shows the development of an individual taste and critical ability
+entirely without peer in the history of art-letters, the value of the
+whole work is immensely enhanced by the time which its publication
+covers.
+
+The first volume of "Modern Painters" was, as everybody will remember,
+one of the sensation-books of the time, and fell upon the public opinion
+of the day like a thunderbolt from the clear sky. Denying, and in many
+instances overthrowing, the received canons of criticism, and defying
+all the accepted authorities in it, the author excited the liveliest
+astonishment and the bitterest hostility of the professional critics in
+general, and at once divided the world of art, so far as his influence
+reached, into two parts: the one embracing most of the reverent and
+conservative minds, and by far the larger; the other, most of the
+enthusiastic, the radical, and earnest; but this, small in numbers
+at first, was increased, and still increases, by the force of those
+qualities of enthusiasm and earnestness, until now, in England, it
+embraces nearly all of the true and living art of our time. But that
+volume, professedly treating art with reference to its superficial
+attributes and for a special purpose, the redemption of a great and
+revered artist from unjust disparagement and undeserved neglect,
+touched in scarcely the least degree the vital questions of taste or
+art-production. It had no considerations of sentiment or discussion of
+principles to offer: it dealt with facts, and touched the simple truths
+of Nature with an enthusiastic fire and lucidness which were proof
+positive of the knowledge and feeling of the author; and the public,
+either conversant with those facts or capable of being satisfied of
+them without much thought, abandoned itself to the fascination of his
+eloquence and acquiesced in his teachings, or arrayed itself in utter
+hostility to him and his new ideas.
+
+The second volume was more abstruse and deeper in feeling, and
+comparatively few of Mr. Ruskin's followers through the first cared
+to get entangled in the metaphysical mazes of the second, and it is
+generally neglected, although containing some of the deepest and most
+satisfactory studies on the fundamental principles of art and taste
+which have ever been printed.
+
+The third and fourth volumes, coming up again nearer the surface, made
+an application of the principles investigated to the material for art
+which Nature furnishes; and here again the author found in part his
+audience diminished among those who had at first been carried away by
+his enthusiasm or silenced and convinced by his unhesitating dogmatism.
+A partial reaction took place, owing not only to the change in the tone
+of the "Modern Painters," but to the springing up of a new school of
+painting, the consequence, mainly and legitimately, of the teachings of
+the work,--the pre-Raphaelite,--which, at once attacked virulently and
+immeasurably by the old school of critics, and defended as earnestly by
+Mr. Ruskin, became the subject of the war which was still waged between
+him and them. Turner in the meanwhile had passed away and was admitted
+to apotheosis, the malignant critics of yesterday becoming the ignorant
+adulators of to-day: _his_ position was conceded, but the hostility to
+Ruskin was sustained with unabated bitterness on the new field. He
+was demolished anew, and proved, many useless times over and over, an
+ignorant pretender; the public in the meanwhile, even his opponents,
+taking up in turn his _proteges_, as he pointed them out to their
+notice. The effect of his criticisms in enhancing the value of the works
+they approved would be incredible, if one did not know how glad an
+English public is to be led. As a single instance,--a drawing which was
+sold from one of the water-color exhibitions at fifty guineas, sold
+again, after Ruskin's notice, at two hundred and fifty; and in the lists
+of pictures sold or to be sold at auction, one sees constantly, "Noticed
+by Mr. Ruskin," "Approved by Mr. Ruskin," appended to the title.
+
+The third volume, being devoted to the correction of the ideas of Style
+and the Ideal, to Finish, and a review of the Past Landscape-Painting,
+recurs to Turner in its closing chapter, "On his Teachers"; the fourth
+was given to Mountain _Beauty_, following the parallel of the first,
+which treated of the _Truth_ of Mountains, and bearing as its burden of
+moral the expression of that Ideal by Turner; and the fifth now comes to
+conclude the investigations on the Ideal by chapters: first, on "Leaf
+Beauty," an exceedingly interesting investigation of the development
+of the forms of trees and plants as concerned with the laws of beauty;
+second, "Cloud Beauty"; and then of the "Ideas of Relation," in which
+the author comes finally to the demonstration of the right of Turner to
+his position amongst the thinking and poetic painters.
+
+From the first division, "Leaf Beauty," we must make one extract.
+The author has been speaking of the, influence of the Pine on Swiss
+character.
+
+"But the point which I desire the reader to note is, that the character
+of the scene which, if any, appears to have been impressive to the
+inhabitant is not that which we ourselves feel when we enter the
+district. It was not from their lakes, nor their cliffs, nor their
+glaciers, though these were all peculiarly their possession, that the
+three venerable cantons or states received their name. They were not
+called the States of the Rock, nor the States of the Lake, but the
+States of the _Forest_. And the one of the three which contains the most
+touching record of the spiritual power of Swiss religion, in the name of
+the convent of the 'Hill of Angels,' has for its own none but the sweet,
+childish name of 'Under the Woods.'
+
+"And, indeed, you may pass under them, if, leaving the most sacred spot
+in Swiss history, the Meadow of the Three Fountains, you bid the boatman
+row southward a little way by the Bay of Uri. Steepest there, on its
+western side, the walls of its rocks ascend to heaven. Far in the blue
+of evening, like a great cathedral-pavement, lies the lake in its
+darkness; and you may hear the whisper of innumerable falling waters
+return from the hollows of the cliff like the voices of a multitude
+praying under their breath. From time to time, the beat of a wave, slow
+lifted, where the rocks lean over the black depth, dies heavily as the
+last note of a requiem. Opposite, green with steep grass and set with
+chalet villages, the Tron Alp rises in one solemn glow of pastoral light
+and peace; and above, against the clouds of twilight, ghostly on the
+gray precipice, stand, myriad by myriad, the shadowy armies of the
+Unterwalden pine.
+
+"I have seen that it is possible for the stranger to pass through this
+great chapel, with its font of waters, and mountain pillars, and vaults
+of cloud, without being touched by one noble thought or stirred by any
+sacred passion; but for those who received from its waves the baptism
+of their youth, and learned beneath its rocks the fidelity of their
+manhood, and watched amidst its clouds the likeness of the dream of
+life, with the eyes of age,--for these I will not believe that the
+mountain-shrine was built or the calm of its forest-shadows guarded by
+their God in vain."
+
+But perhaps that conclusion of Ruskin's, in the new volume, which will
+most interest his earnest readers, is that the Venetian school is _the
+only religious school that has ever existed_. So much has Ruskin's
+development seemed to contradict itself, that one is scarcely surprised
+at one conclusion being apparently opposed to the former one; but a
+change so great as this, from Giotto, Perugino, and Cima, to Tintoret,
+Titian, and Veronese, as the religious ideals, will, indeed, amaze all
+who read it. Yet this is but the logical consequence of his progression
+hitherto. If he commenced with a belief that asceticism was religion, he
+would recognize Perugino and Giotto as the true religious artists; but
+if, as seems to be the case, he has learned at last that religion is a
+thing of daily life, mingling in all that we do, caring for body as well
+as soul, sense as well as spirit, and that a complete man must be a
+man who _lives_ in every sense of the word, then the Venetians, as the
+painters of the truth of life in _all_ its joy and sorrow, are the true
+painters, and the only ones whose art was inhabited by a religion worth
+following.
+
+It is interesting to follow what are called Ruskin's contradictions and
+see how perfectly they represent the whole system of artistic truth, as
+seen from the different points of a young artist's or student's growth
+up to mature and ripened judgment; so that there is no stage of artistic
+development which has not some form of truth particularly adapted to it,
+in the "Modern Painters." If it be urged that the book should have been
+written only from the point of final development, it can only be said
+that no true book will ever he so written, for no man can ever be
+certain of his having attained final truth. "Modern Painters" has
+value in this very showing of the critical development, which to an
+intelligent student is greater than that a complete and infallible guide
+could have.
+
+The chapter on Invention is full of the most delightful artistic truth,
+and shows completely, by copious illustrations, how well Turner deserved
+the rank Ruskin gives him amongst great composers. The analyses of the
+compositions of Turner are most curious and interesting, but, of course,
+depend on the accompanying plates. Some most valuable mental philosophy
+bearing on the production of art-works concludes Part VIII., which
+is devoted to "Invention Formal," of which we quote the concluding
+paragraphs:--
+
+"Until the feelings can give strength enough to the will to enable it
+to conquer them, they are not strong enough. If you cannot leave your
+picture at any moment, cannot turn from it and go on with another while
+the color is drying, cannot work at any part of it you choose with equal
+contentment, you have not firm enough grasp of it.
+
+"It follows, also, that no vain or selfish person can possibly paint,
+in the noble sense of the word. Vanity and selfishness are troublous,
+eager, anxious, petulant: painting can only be done in calm of mind.
+Resolution is not enough to secure this; it must be secured by
+disposition as well. You may resolve to think of your picture only; but,
+if you have been fretted before beginning, no manly or clear grasp of
+it will be possible for you. No forced calm is calm enough: only honest
+calm, natural calm. You might as well try by external pressure to smooth
+a lake till it could reflect the sky, as by violence of effort to secure
+the peace through which only you can reach imagination. That peace must
+come in its own time, as the waters settle themselves into clearness as
+well as quietness: you can no more filter your mind into purity than you
+can compress it into calmness; you must keep it pure, if you would have
+it pure; and throw no stones into it, if you would have it quiet. Great
+courage and self-command may to a certain extent give power of painting
+without the true calmness underneath, but never of doing first-rate
+work. There is sufficient evidence of this in even what we know of great
+men, though of the greatest we nearly always know the least (and that
+necessarily; they being very silent, and not much given to setting
+themselves forth to questioners,--apt to be contemptuously reserved no
+less than unselfishly). But in such writings and sayings as we possess
+of theirs we may trace a quite curious gentleness and serene courtesy.
+Rubens's letters are almost ludicrous in their unhurried politeness.
+Reynolds, swiftest of painters, was gentlest of companions; so also
+Velasquez, Titian, and Veronese.
+
+"It is gratuitous to add that no shallow or petty person can paint. Mere
+cleverness or special gift never made an artist. It is only perfectness
+of mind, unity, depth, decision, the highest qualities, in fine, of the
+intellect, which will form the imagination.
+
+"And, lastly, no false person can paint. A person false at heart may,
+when it suits his purposes, seize a stray truth here or there; but the
+relations of truth, its perfectness, that which makes it wholesome
+truth, he can never perceive. As wholeness and wholesomeness go
+together, so also sight with sincerity; it is only the constant desire
+of and submissiveness to truth, which can measure its strange angles
+and mark its infinite aspects, and fit them and knit them into sacred
+invention.
+
+"Sacred I call it deliberately; for it is thus in the most accurate
+senses, humble as well as helpful,--meek in its receiving as magnificent
+in its disposing; the name it bears being rightly given even to
+invention formal, not because it forms, but because it finds. For you
+cannot find a lie; you must make it for yourself. False things may be
+imagined, and false things composed; but only truth can be invented."
+
+One of those cardinal doctrines by which we may learn the bearings of a
+writer's system of truth is that of Ruskin's of the intimate connection
+between landscape art and humanity.
+
+"Fragrant tissue of flowers, golden circlet of clouds, are only fair
+when they meet the fondness of human thoughts and glorify human visions
+of heaven.
+
+"It is the leaning on this truth which more than any other has been the
+distinctive character of all my own past work. And in closing a series
+of art-studies, prolonged during so many years, it may be perhaps
+permitted me to point out this specialty,--the rather that it has been,
+of all their characters, the one most denied. I constantly see that the
+same thing takes place in the estimation formed by the modern public of
+the work of almost any true person, living or dead. It is not needful
+to state here the causes of such error; but the fact is indeed so, that
+precisely the distinctive root and leading force of any true man's work
+and way are the things denied him.
+
+"And in these books of mine, their distinctive character, as essays on
+art, is their bringing everything to a root in human passion or human
+hope. Arising first not in any desire to explain the principles of art,
+but in the endeavor to defend an individual painter from injustice, they
+have been colored throughout, nay, continually altered in shape, and
+even warped and broken, by digressions respecting social questions,
+which had for me an interest tenfold greater than the work I had been
+forced into undertaking. Every principle of painting which I have
+stated is traced to some vital or spiritual fact; and in my works on
+architecture the preference accorded finally to one school over another
+is founded on a comparison of their influences on the life of the
+workman,--a question by all other writers on the subject of architecture
+wholly forgotten or despised.
+
+"The essential connection of the power of landscape with human emotion
+is not less certain because in many impressive pictures the link is
+slight or local. That the connection should exist at a single point is
+all that we need.... That difference, and more, exists between the power
+of Nature through which humanity is seen, and her power in the desert.
+Desert,--whether of leaf or sand,--true desertness, is not in the want
+of leaves, but of life. Where humanity is not and was not, the best
+natural beauty is more than vain. It is even terrible; not as the
+dress cast aside from the body, but as an embroidered shroud hiding a
+skeleton."
+
+The volume, as a whole, will be found less dogmatic, calmer, more
+convincing, and more directly applicable to artistic judgment, than any
+of the others. There is the same love of mysticism and undermeanings,
+but freighted with deeper and more central truths: a charming conclusion
+to a fourteen-years' diary of such study of Art and Nature, so severe,
+so unremitting, as never critic gave before.
+
+
+_Syntax of the Moods and Tenses of the Greek Verb._ By W.W. GOODWIN,
+Ph.D. Cambridge: Sever and Francis.
+
+Grammarians had once a simple way of disposing of the subject on which
+Professor Goodwin has given us this elaborate treatise of three hundred
+pages.
+
+In the Greek Grammar of the Messieurs de Port Royal, which Gibbon
+praises so highly in his charming autobiography, and which has passed
+through several editions in England within the present century, we
+are taught, that, "though the moods [in Greek] are not to be rejected
+entirely, yet their signification is sometimes so very arbitrary, that
+they are put for one another through all tenses." Lancelot himself
+seems to have had a glimmering of the essential incredibility of this
+statement; for, though he attempts to substantiate it by citing from
+Greek authors a number of passages in which the Greek idiom happens to
+differ from the Latin,--passages, however, which Mr. Goodwin would have
+been glad to use, had they fallen in his way, to illustrate the regular
+constructions of the language,--he feels it necessary to appeal to
+the authority of the learned Budaeus, the greatest of the early Greek
+scholars. Strange as it seems that really accomplished Greek scholars
+should have charged Plato and Demosthenes, speaking the most perfect of
+tongues, with arbitrary interchanges of moods and tenses, yet the same
+views continued to be presented in grammatical works down to the close
+of the last century. The transition to the new school of grammarians was
+made in 1792, by the publication of a Greek Grammar by Philip Buttmann,
+which, in the greatly improved form which it afterwards received from
+his hands, is familiar to all Greek scholars. In our frequent boasts of
+the great strides that knowledge has taken in the present century, we
+commonly have in mind the physical sciences; but we doubt whether in any
+department of physical science the manuals in use seventy-five years
+ago are so utterly inferior to those of the present day as are, for
+instance, the remarks of Viger, and his commentators before Hermann, on
+the syntax of the Greek verb, to the philosophical treatment of the same
+points by Professor Goodwin.
+
+This work is entitled, we think, to rank with the best grammars of the
+Greek language that have appeared in German or English, in all the
+points that constitute grammatical excellence; while its monographic
+character justified and required an exhaustive treatment of its
+particular topic, not to be found even in the huge grammars of Matthiae
+and Kuehner. Indeed, not the least of its merits is this, that, in
+addition to the excellent matter which is original with Professor
+Goodwin, it furnishes to the student, American or English,--for we hope
+to see its merits recognized on the other side of the Atlantic,--a
+digest, as it were, of all that is most valuable on the subject of the
+syntax of the Greek verb in the best German grammars, from Buttmann
+to Madvig, enhanced, too, in value by being recast and worked into a
+homogeneous system by an acute scholar and experienced teacher. One
+excellence of the book we would by no means pass over, an excellence
+which we are sure will be particularly appreciated by all who have used
+translations of German grammars,--the precision both of thought and
+expression by which it is characterized, which releases the student from
+the labor of constructing the meaning of a rule from the data of the
+appended examples. Not that Mr. Goodwin is chary of examples; on the
+contrary, one of the most attractive and not least profitable features
+of the book is the copiousness and freshness of the illustrative
+quotations from Greek authors. These are as welcome as the brightness of
+newly minted coin to the eye which, in consulting grammar after grammar,
+has been condemned to meet under corresponding rules always the same
+examples, till they begin to produce that effect upon the nerves which
+all have experienced at the mention of the deadly upas-tree, or the
+imminence of the dissolution of the Union.
+
+We must not omit to speak of the typographical merit of the work,--and
+especially of what constitutes the first and the last merit of books of
+this class, the excellent table of contents, and the indexes, Greek and
+English, which leave nothing to be desired in the way of facility of
+reference, except, perhaps, an index to the quotations.
+
+
+_The Law of the Territories_. Philadelphia: C. Sherman & Son.
+
+The author of the two able essays contained in this volume will be
+remembered by many of our readers under his assumed name of "Cecil."
+The second, as he himself tells us, on "Popular Sovereignty in the
+Territories," was published, as one of a series of essays on Southern
+politics, in the Philadelphia _North American and United States
+Gazette_. The first, we believe, has never been published before.
+
+Our author, whom we may designate, without violating any confidence, as
+Mr. George Sidney Fisher, devotes an elaborate preface, which is itself
+a third essay, to discussing the invasion of Virginia by John Brown and
+the Southern threats of secession, drawing from the foray of Harper's
+Ferry a conclusion very different from that of the disunionists. In his
+own words,--
+
+ "Disunion is a word of fear. Is it not
+ strange that it should have been as yet pronounced
+ only by the South? The danger of
+ insurrection and servile war belongs to the
+ nature of slavery. It is, perhaps, not too much
+ to assert that the safety and tranquillity of
+ Southern society depend on the fact that the
+ Northern people are close at hand to aid in
+ case of need,--that the power of the General
+ Government is ever ready for the same purpose.
+ Four millions of barbarians, growing
+ with tropical vigor, and soon to be eight millions,
+ with tropical passions boiling in their
+ blood, endowed with native courage, with
+ sinews strong by toil, and stimulated by the
+ hope of liberty and unbounded license, are
+ not to be trifled with. Take away from them
+ the idea of an irresistible power in the North,
+ ready at any moment to be invoked by their
+ masters, or let them expect in the North, not
+ enemies, but friends and supporters, which
+ even now they are told every day by these
+ masters they may expect,--and how soon
+ might a flame be lighted which no power in
+ the South could extinguish!"
+
+Mr. Fisher treats of the "Law of the Territories" in two essays,--the
+first considering more particularly "The Territories and the
+Constitution," the second, "Popular Sovereignty in the Territories." The
+first commences with a quotation so happy that it has all the effect of
+original wit:--
+
+ "The wily and witty Talleyrand was once
+ asked the meaning of the word 'non-intervention,'
+ so often used in European diplomacy.
+ 'It is a word,' he replied, 'metaphysical and
+ political, not accurately defined, but which
+ means--much the same thing as intervention!'
+ The same word has been frequently
+ employed, of late years, in our politics, with
+ the same difference between its professed
+ and its practical signification. It was introduced
+ for the first time in reference to the
+ government of the Territories, when it became
+ an object for the South to gain Kansas as a
+ Slave State. Two obstacles were to be overcome.
+ One was the Missouri Compromise,
+ which was a solemn compact between North
+ and South to settle a disturbing and dangerous
+ question; the other was a possible majority
+ in Congress, that, it was feared, might prohibit
+ slavery in the new Territory. Southern
+ politicians had at the time control of the government;
+ and they got rid of both difficulties
+ by repealing the Missouri Compromise in the
+ Kansas and Nebraska Bill. By necessary implication,
+ arising from the relation of the Territories
+ to the rest of the nation, by the language
+ of the Constitution, and by the uniform
+ construction of it and practice under it from
+ the earliest period of our history, the Territories
+ had been subjected to the absolute control
+ of the General Government. By the Kansas
+ and Nebraska Bill they were withdrawn
+ from that control. The principle of Popular
+ Sovereignty, it was said, applied to them as
+ well as to the States; and this bill declared
+ that the people of the Territories should be
+ perfectly free to choose their own domestic
+ institutions and regulate their own affairs in
+ their own way."
+
+The means employed to carry out this plan and the ultimate failure of
+the plan itself are sketched with a boldness and vigor that our limits,
+much to our regret, forbid our reproducing. Mr. Fisher, however, fails
+to notice the wretched plea put forth by the Democratic managers,
+in favor of the recognition by Congress of the Lecompton
+Constitution,--that it had been officially authenticated. All might be
+wrong, but the official record pronounced it right; and behind that
+record Congress had no authority to go. And this plea was advanced in
+the face of overwhelming evidence tending to show that the officials,
+for whose record so inviolable a sanctity was claimed, were appointed
+for the express purpose of falsifying that record! If confirmation be
+wanted, we need go no farther than the fate of Robert J. Walker, who was
+eager to make Kansas a Slave State, but was so false to every principle
+of Democratic integrity as to confine himself to legitimate means to
+bring about that result,--a remissness for which he was promptly removed
+by President Buchanan! Mr. Fisher pertinently says,--
+
+"Two great facts were plainly visible through the flimsy web of attorney
+logic and quibbling technicality, not very ingeniously woven to conceal
+them. One of these facts was, that the people of Kansas were heartily
+and almost unanimously averse to slavery; the other was, that the
+Government was trying by every means in its power to impose slavery upon
+them."
+
+After describing the contemptuous rejection by the people of Kansas of
+the pro-slavery constitution, Mr. Fisher proceeds with an analysis of
+the Kansas-Nebraska fraud, so clear and so masterly that we must again
+quote his own language, with an occasional condensation or omission.
+
+"It was clear, therefore, that the principle of Popular Sovereignty,
+introduced by the Kansas and Nebraska Bill, a principle before unknown
+to the law and practice of our government, would not suit the South.
+It appeared too probable that not only the people to inhabit all the
+territory north of 36 deg. 30', but also much territory south of it, would,
+like the people of Kansas, reject slavery, if left to regulate their
+domestic institutions in their own way. What, then, were Southern
+politicians to do? Invoke the ancient and long exercised, but now denied
+and derided power of Congress over the Territories? This might prove a
+dangerous weapon in the hands of possible future Northern majorities. It
+was obviously necessary to withdraw slavery alike from the control of
+Congress and of the people of a Territory. Some ingenuity was required
+for this. The doctrine that the Constitution extends to the Territories
+(a doctrine broached before by Mr. Calhoun, but always defeated on the
+ground that the Constitution, by its language and the practice under it,
+was made for States only, and that the Territories were subject to the
+supreme control of Congress,--a control frequently exercised, not only
+independently of the Constitution, but in a manner incompatible with it)
+was introduced, with other innovations, into the Kansas and Nebraska
+Bill. The Dred Scott decision of the Supreme Court followed, by which
+the Constitution recognizes slavery as a national institution. It
+recognizes slaves as mere property, differing in no respect from other
+merchandise. The Territories belong to the nation. Every citizen has
+equal rights to them and in them. Why, therefore, may not a Southern
+man, as well as a Northern man, go into them with his _property_? What
+right has Congress to place the South under an ignominious bar of
+restriction? The Constitution declares that slaves are property; that
+all the States and the people have equal rights. The Territories belong
+to all. Therefore, under the Constitution, they should be enjoyed by
+all.
+
+"By this ingenious logic the Kansas and Nebraska Bill is made to
+contradict itself. It first declares that the Constitution extends to
+the Territories; in other words, slavery exists there by force of the
+Constitution, without reference to the will of the people. It then says
+that the people of the Territories shall be 'perfectly free to form and
+regulate their domestic institutions in their own way.'
+
+"The contradictions, duplicity, and absurdity of the law are obvious at
+once. The first sentence announces a change in the settled principles
+and policy of the Government; else why declare that the Constitution
+'_shall_' extend to Nebraska, if it already extended there? Then comes
+the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The reason given for this is,
+that it is inconsistent with the non-intervention by Congress with
+slavery, recognized in the Compromise of 1850. But that law declares
+positively that Congress does not intervene, _because it is
+'inexpedient'_ to do so; and gives the reason why it is inexpedient. The
+_power_ of Congress _was asserted_ by Mr. Clay, who made the law, and
+the terms of it were chosen for the very purpose of preventing any
+inference being drawn from it against that power.
+
+"It is remarkable, too, that the Bill, whilst declaring the _perfect_
+freedom of the Territories, should still have left them subject to the
+power of the President, who, as before, is permitted to appoint their
+Governor, Judges, and Marshals, officers who are his agents, and without
+whose sanction the acts of the Territorial Legislature can neither
+become laws, nor be construed and applied, nor executed. So that the
+will of the people may be defeated, should it happen to be opposed to
+the will of the President: as was seen in the case of Kansas.
+
+"Why," Mr. Fisher asks, "is the anomalous monster of Popular Sovereignty
+to be introduced with reference to slavery? Is it because slaves are
+'mere property'? Why, then, not subject all property, land included, to
+popular control? Is it because the subject of slavery is an exciting
+topic, a theme for dangerous agitation, to be checked only by placing
+the subject beyond the power of Congress? The answer is, that Congress
+cannot abdicate its power on the ground of expediency. If it may give up
+one power, it may give up all. Nor can Congress delegate its power for
+the same reason. Trust power, from its very nature, cannot be delegated.
+To break down great principles, to set aside ancient usage, to abandon
+legal authority, in order to appease the contests of parties, is too
+great a sacrifice. No true peace can come of it; only suppressed and
+adjourned war."
+
+The natural inference from the extracts we have given would be that Mr.
+Fisher was a member of the Republican party. But such is not the fact:
+Mr. Fisher rests his hope upon a party "yet to be organized." "The
+extreme Northern, or Free-soil, or Abolition party is only less guilty
+than the extreme Southern and Democratic party." Which? Does Mr. Fisher
+mean that "Northern," "Free-soil," and "Abolition" are synonymous terms?
+And does any or do all of them mean the Republican party? Or, finally,
+does Mr. Fisher shrink from the conclusions presented by his logic, and
+is his vaguely convenient linking together of different words intended
+to leave his position gracefully doubtful? And in that case, do the
+Baltimore nominations, with their innocent unconsciousness, supply his
+political needs? It is not easy to answer these questions. We begin now
+upon the views of a Pennsylvania Oppositionist; and quicksilver defied
+not more utterly the skill of Raymond Lullius than the doctrines of the
+Philadelphia school perplex the inquiries of sharply defined New England
+minds. The rudimentary state of Republican principles may nowhere else
+be so clearly seen as in Pennsylvania. Four years of the Democratic
+administration of her "favorite son" have done much to make her less
+favored sons into good Republicans; but the State needs another
+Democratic President. Mr. Fisher appears to much more advantage in
+pulling down than in building up. We have hitherto seen only the keen,
+fearless dissector of fraud and hypocrisy; we are now to contemplate a
+circumspect alarmist, who dreads to call things by their right names
+for fear of unpleasant consequences. He is such a master of English,
+so judicious in the use of middle terms,--so shrewd a fencer
+altogether,--that even his timidity cannot make him other than a
+formidable opponent.
+
+Mr. Fisher, believing that slavery receives ample protection from a fair
+interpretation of the Constitution, holds that
+
+"Congress has plenary power over the Territories, often exercised on
+this subject of slavery. It may be said that Congress has on various
+occasions prohibited slavery in the Territories. True; but with the
+consent and cooeperation of the Southern States. The people of all the
+States have equal right in the Territories. To exclude the people of the
+Slave States, therefore, _without their consent_, would be unequal and
+opposed to the spirit of the Constitution."
+
+Certainly it would. Who proposes to do it? No living man, woman, or
+child. It is worth noticing, by the way, that the Republican party is
+not committed to the doctrine of carrying out the principle of the
+Wilmot Proviso. But supposing it were, Mr. Fisher's argument has
+no force or direction, unless he can establish his suppressed
+premise,--that the exclusion of slavery from the Territories is the
+exclusion of "the people of the Slave States" from the Territories.
+And to make that good, all Mr. Fisher's skill and ingenuity will
+be required. Why so many Northern politicians should have weakly
+surrendered this point is a mystery. Because the slaveholders (who are
+not, Mr. Fisher, "the people of the Slave States," by any means, but a
+small portion of them) are at home a privileged aristocracy, have they
+any claim to the same position abroad? If so, on what does it rest? The
+laws of the Southern States? They are now beyond their jurisdiction. The
+common law? To that wise and beneficent law slavery is a thing unknown.
+The Constitution? It is silent. There is no exclusion of the Southerners
+even proposed. Let them come: but when they claim to carry with them
+the right to hold a certain class of men as property because they
+are recognized as property by certain local regulations elsewhere
+prevailing, they must not complain, if such a claim be disallowed. The
+Southerner's complaint, that he is accustomed to the institution of
+slavery, is fairly met by the Northerner's retort, that he is accustomed
+to the institution of freedom.
+
+Now, which voice shall prevail? Neither party has any more right than
+the other; and neither party has any right at all. The Territories are
+in a state of wardship; and Congress is to decide as it thinks best for
+their welfare, present and future; and if Congress thinks that a nation
+prospers with free institutions and droops under slavery, then let
+Congress admit the Territory as a Free State. True, there is some
+inconvenience to the slave-holder; but from so abnormal a relation as
+slavery some inconvenience must result. When admitted to be a necessary
+evil, it is barely tolerable; when boastingly proclaimed to be a
+sovereign good, it is fairly intolerable. And it is both criminal and
+foolish to try to make good all the evils inseparable from slavery by
+systematic injustice to other interests.
+
+ "Slavery has changed. When Southern
+ men consented to its prohibition, they hoped
+ and believed that the time would come when
+ it could be abolished altogether. They have
+ as much right to these as to their former opinions,
+ and to have them represented in the
+ Government."
+
+Here Mr. Fisher hints at, rather than fully states, the grand retort of
+the Southerners,--"Our fathers, you say, were opposed to slavery: very
+good; but we are not: why should we be bound by their opinions?" A mere
+misapprehension of the force of the argument. The Southerner of 1860 is
+_not_ bound by the opinions of Madison and Jefferson; but the North
+may fairly adduce the opinions of those men, who were framers of the
+Constitution, not as binding upon their descendants, but as serving to
+explain the meaning of disputed provisions in that Constitution. The
+Constitution binds us all, North and South: then recurs the question,
+What is the meaning of its provisions? and _then_ the contemporaneous
+opinions of its framers come legitimately into play as an argument.
+
+Of the Missouri Compromise Mr. Fisher says,--
+
+ "It may be said that this law was a violation
+ of the equal rights of the Southern people,
+ by excluding them from a large portion
+ of the national domain. The answer is, not
+ merely that this was done with their consent,
+ their representatives having approved the law,
+ but that the law did recognize their rights,
+ by dividing between them and the Northern
+ people all the territory then possessed by the
+ Government."
+
+We are surprised that upon his own presentation of the case this simple
+question does not occur to Mr. Fisher: Supposing the South and the North
+to have had equal and conflicting rights in the national domain, and
+supposing that there was need of some arbiter, and remembering that
+Congress undertook the duties of arbiter and decided that the
+division under the Missouri Compromise gave each section its rightful
+share,--then, with what propriety can the South, after occupying its own
+share, call for a portion in the share allotted to the North?
+
+The second essay, on "Popular Sovereignty in the Territories," presents
+comparatively few salient points. A very spirited and just history of
+the working of the Administration schemes in Kansas, a restating of
+some of the arguments against the Kansas-Nebraska Act set forth in the
+preceding essay, and a remonstrance against the headstrong course of
+Southern politicians are its most noticeable features.
+
+ "The Union, the Constitution, and the
+ friendship of the North: these are the pillars
+ on which rest the peace, the safety, the
+ independence of the South. The extraordinary
+ thing is, that for some years past the South
+ has been, and now is, sedulously employed in
+ undermining this triple foundation of its power
+ and safety. Its extravagant pretensions,
+ its excesses, its crimes, are rapidly cooling
+ the friendship of the North,--converting it,
+ indeed, into positive enmity. Its leading politicians
+ are ever plotting and threatening disunion.
+ disunion will he proffered to them from the North, not
+ as a vague and passionate threat, but as a positive
+ and well-considered plan, backed by a
+ force of public opinion which nothing can resist.
+ Ere long, the South is likely to be left
+ with no other defence than the Union it has
+ weakened and the Constitution it has mutilated
+ and defaced.
+
+ "The makers of the Kansas and Nebraska
+ law were clumsy workmen. They forgot to
+ provide for the case of an anti-slavery President.
+ They will, perhaps, learn wisdom by
+ experience.
+
+ "'To wilful men
+ The injuries that they themselves procure
+ Must be their schoolmasters.'
+
+ "Those who framed the Constitution and laid
+ the foundation of this Union understood their
+ business better. That Constitution was intended
+ to protect the South, and has protected
+ it. Southern politicians cannot improve
+ it. For their own sakes they had better
+ let it alone."
+
+We have given enough to show that in discussing Mr. Fisher we are
+dealing with two different men. The field is now clear for the great
+political contest of 1860. Mr. Fisher may have allied himself before
+this with the Republicans, or may look to have his anticipations
+fulfilled by that third party who are as unconscious of wrong as
+powerless to rectify it, "the world-forgetting, by the world forgot." We
+wish him well through his troubles.
+
+
+_A Dictionary of English Etymology._ By HENSLEIGH WEDGWOOD, M. A. Late
+Fellow of Chr. Coll. Cam. Vol. I. (A-D.) London: Truebner and Co., 60
+Paternoster Row. 1859. pp. xxiv., 507.
+
+There is nothing more dangerously fascinating than etymologies. To the
+uninitiated the victim seems to have eaten of "insane _roots_ that take
+the reason prisoner"; while the illuminate too often looks upon the
+stems and flowers of language, the highest achievements of thought and
+poesy, as mere handles by which to pull up the grimy tubers that lie at
+the base of articulate expression, shapeless knobs of speech, sacred to
+him as the potato to the Irishman.
+
+The sarcasms of Swift were not without justification; for crazier
+analogies than that between Andromache and Andrew Mackay have been
+gravely insisted on by persons who, like the author of "Amilec,"
+believed that the true secret of philosophizing _est celui de rever
+heureusement_. It is only within a few years that etymological
+investigations have been limited by anything; like scientific precision,
+or that profound study, patient thought, and severity of method
+have asserted in this, as in other departments of knowledge, their
+superiority to point-blank guessing and the bewitching generalization
+conjured out of a couple or so of assumed facts, which, even if they
+turn out to be singly true, are no more nearly related than Hecate and
+green cheese.
+
+We do not object to that milder form of philology of which the works
+of Dean Trench offer the readiest and most pleasing example, and which
+confines itself to the mere study of words, to the changes of form and
+meaning they have undergone and the forgotten moral that lurks in them.
+But the interest of Dr. Trench and others like him sticks fast in words,
+it is almost wholly an aesthetic interest, and does not pretend to
+concern itself with the deeper problems of language, its origin, its
+comparative anatomy, its bearing upon the prehistoric condition of
+mankind and the relations of races, and its claim to a place among the
+natural sciences as an essential element in any attempt to reconstruct
+the broken and scattered annals of our planet. It would not be just to
+find fault with Dr. Trench's books for lacking a scientific treatment
+to which they make no pretension, but they may fairly be charged with
+smelling a little too much of the shop. There is a faint odor of the
+sermon-case about every page, and we learn to dread, sometimes to skip,
+the inevitable homily, as we do the moral at the end of an AEsopic fable.
+We enter our protest, not against Dr. Trench in particular, for his
+books have other and higher claims to our regard, but because we find
+that his example is catching, the more so as verbal morality is much
+cheaper than linguistic science. If there be anything which the study of
+words should teach, it is their value.
+
+There are two theories as to the origin of language, which, for
+shortness, may be defined as the poetic and the matter-of-fact. The
+former (of which M. Ernest Renan is one of the most eloquent advocates)
+supposes a primitive race or races endowed with faculties of cognition
+and expression so perfect and so intimately responsive one to the
+other, that the name of a thing came into being coincidently with the
+perception of it. Verbal inflections and other grammatical forms came
+into use gradually to meet the necessities of social commerce between
+man and man, and were at some later epoch reduced to logical system by
+constructive minds. If we understand him rightly, while not excluding
+the influence of _onomatopeia_, (or physical imitation,) he would attach
+a far greater importance to metaphysical causes. He says admirably
+well, "La liaison du sens et du mot n'est jamais _necessaire_, jamais
+_arbitraire_; toujours elle est _motivee_." His theory amounts to this:
+that the fresh perfection of the senses and the mental faculties made
+the primitive man a poet.
+
+The other theory seeks the origin of language in certain imitative
+radicals out of which it has analogically and metaphorically developed
+itself. This system has at least the merits of clearness and simplicity,
+and of being to a certain extent capable of demonstration. Its
+limitation in this last respect will depend upon that mental
+constitution which divides men naturally into Platonists and
+Aristotelians. It has never before received so thorough an exposition
+or been tested by so wide a range of application as in Mr. Wedgwood's
+volume, nor could it well be more fortunate in its advocate. Mr.
+Wedgwood is thorough, scrupulous, and fair-minded.
+
+It will be observed that neither theory brings any aid to the attempt
+of Professor Max Mueller and others to demonstrate etymologically the
+original unity of the human race. Mr. Wedgwood leaves this question
+aside, as irrelevant to his purpose. M. Renan combats it at considerable
+length. The logical consequence of admitting either theory would be that
+the problem was simply indemonstrable.
+
+At first sight, so imaginative a scheme as that of M. Renan is
+singularly alluring; for, even when qualified by the sentence we have
+quoted, we may attach such a meaning to the word _motivee_ as to find in
+words the natural bodies of which the Platonic ideas are the soul and
+spirit. We find in it a correlative illustration of that notion not
+uncommon among primitive poets, and revived by the Cabalists, that
+whoever knew the Word of a thing was master of the thing itself, and an
+easy way of accounting for the innate fitness and necessity, the fore
+ordination, which stamps the phrases of real poets. If, on the other
+hand, we accept Mr. Wedgwood's system, we must consider speech, as
+the theologians of the Middle Ages assumed of matter, to be only
+_potentiated_ with life and soul, and shall find the phenomenon of
+poetry as wonderful, if less mysterious, when we regard the fineness of
+organization requisite to a perception of the remote analogies of sense
+and thought, and the power, as of Solomon's seal, which can compel the
+unwilling genius back into the leaden void which language becomes when
+used as most men use it.
+
+There is a large class of words which every body admits to be imitative
+of sounds,--such, for example, as _bang, splash, crack_,--and Mr.
+Wedgwood undertakes to show that their number and that of their
+derivative applications is much larger than is ordinarily supposed. He
+confines himself almost wholly to European languages, but not always to
+the particular class of etymologies which it is his main object to trace
+out. Some of his explanations of words, not based upon any real or
+assumed radical, but showing their gradual passage toward their present
+forms and meanings, are among the most valuable parts of the book.
+As striking proofs of this, we refer our readers to Mr. Wedgwood's
+treatment of the words _abide, abie, allow, danger, and denizen_. When
+he differs from other authorities, it is never inconsiderately or
+without examination. Now and then we think his derivations are
+far-fetched, when simpler ones were lying near his hand. He makes the
+Italian _balcone_ come from the Persian _baia khaneh_, an upper chamber.
+An upper chamber over a gate in the Persian caravanserais is still
+called by that name, according to Rich. (p. 97.) Yet under the
+word _balk_ we find, "A hayloft is provincially termed the _balks_,
+(Halliwell,) because situated among the rafters. Hence also, probably,
+the Ital. _balco_, or _pulcoy_ a scaffold; a loftlike erection supported
+upon beams." As a _balcone_ is not an upper chamber, nor a chamber over
+a gate, but is precisely "a loftlike erection supported upon beams," it
+seems more reasonable to suppose it an augmentative formed in the usual
+way from _balco_. Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of barbican from _bala
+khaneh_ seems to us more happy. (Ducange refers the word to an Eastern
+source.) He would also derive the Fr. _ebaucher_ from _balk_, though we
+have a correlative form, _sbozzare_, in Italian, (old Sp. _esbozar_,
+Port, _esboyar_, Diez,) with precisely the same meaning, and from a
+root _bozzo_, which is related to a very different class of words from
+_balk_. So bewitched is Mr. Wedgwood with this word _balk_, that he
+prefers to derive the Ital. _valicam, varcare_, from it rather than from
+the Latin _varicare_. We should think a deduction from the latter to the
+English _walk_ altogether as probable. Mr. Wedgwood also inclines to
+seek the origin of _acquaint_ in the Germ, _kund_, though we have all
+the intermediate steps between it and the Mid. Lat. _adcognitare_.
+Again, under _daunt_ he says, "Probably not directly from Lat. _domare_,
+but from the Teutonic form _damp_, which is essentially the same word."
+It may be plain that the Fr. _dompter_ (whence _daunt_) is not directly
+from _domare_, but not so plain, as it seems to us, that it is not
+directly from the frequentative form domitare.--"_Decoy_. Properly
+_duck-coy_, as pronounced by those who are familiar with the thing
+itself. '_Decoys_, vulgarly _duck-coys_.'--Sketch of the Fens, in
+Gardener's Chron. 1849. Du. _koye_, cavea, septum, locus in quo
+greges stabulantur.--Kil. _Kooi, konw, kevi_, a cage; _vogel-kooi_, a
+bird-cage, decoy, apparatus for entrapping waterfowl. Prov. E. _Coy_,
+a decoy for ducks, a coop for lobsters.--Forby. The name was probably
+imported with the thing itself from Holland to the fens." (p. 447.)
+_Duck-coy_, we cannot help thinking, is an instance of a corruption like
+_bag o' nails_ from _bacchanals_, for the sake of giving meaning to a
+word not understood. Decoys were and are used for other birds as well as
+ducks, and _vogel-kooi_ in Dutch applies to all birds, (answering to our
+trap-cage,) the special apparatus for ducks being an _eende-kooi_. The
+French _coi_ adverbialized by the prefix _de_, and meaning quietly,
+slyly, as a hunter who uses decoys must demean himself, would seem
+a more likely original.--_Andiron_ Mr. Wedgwood derives from Flem.
+_wend-ijser_, turn-irons, because the spit rested upon them. But the
+original meaning seems to have no reference to the spit. The French
+_landier_ is plainly a corruption of the Mid. Lat. _anderia_, by the
+absorption of the article (_l'andier_). This gives us an earlier form
+_andier_, and the augmentative _andieron_ would be our word.--_Baggage_.
+We cannot think Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of this word from _bague_ an
+improvement on that of Ducange from _baga_, area.--_Coarse_ Mr. Wedgwood
+considers identical with _course_,--that is, of course, ordinary. He
+finds a confirmation of this in the old spelling. Old spelling is seldom
+a safe guide, though we wonder that the archaic form _boorly_ did not
+seem to him a sufficient authority for the common derivation of _burly_.
+If _coarse_ be not another form of _gross_, (Fr. _gros_, _grosse_,)
+then there is no connection between _corn_ and _granum_, or _horse_ and
+_ross_.--"_Cullion_. It. _Coglione_, a cullion, a fool, a scoundrel,
+properly a dupe. See Cully. It. _cogionare_, to deceive, to make a dupe
+of.... In the Venet. _coglionare_ becomes _cogionare_, as _vogia_ for
+_voglia_.... Hence E. to _cozen_, as It. _fregio_, frieze; _cugino_,
+cousin; _prigione_, prison." (p. 387.) Under _cully_, to which Mr.
+Wedgwood refers, he gives another etymology of _coglione_, and, we
+think, a wrong one. _Coglionare_ is itself a derivative form from
+_coglione_, and the radical meaning is to be sought in _cogliere_, to
+gather, to take in, to pluck. Hence a _coglione_ is a sharper, one who
+takes in, plucks. _Cully_ and _gull_ (one who is taken in) must be
+referred to the same source. Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of _cozen_ is
+ingenious, and perhaps accounts for the doubtful Germ, _kosen_, unless
+that word itself be the original.--"_To chaff_, in vulgar language to
+rally one, to chatter or talk lightly. From a representation of the
+inarticulate sounds made by different kinds of animals uttering rapidly
+repeated cries. Du. _keffen_, to yap, to bark, also to prattle, chatter,
+tattle. Halma," etc. We think it demonstrable that _chaff_ is only a
+variety of _chafe_, from Fr. _ecauffer_, retaining the broader sound of
+the _a_ from the older form _chaufe_. So _gaby_, which Mr. Wedgwood (p.
+84) would connect with _gaewisch_, (Fr. _gauche_,) is derived immediately
+from O. Fr. _gabe_, (a laughing-stock, a butt,) the participial form of
+_gaber_, to make fun of, which would lead us to a very different root.
+(See the _Fabliaux, passim_.)--_Cress_. "Perhaps," says Mr. Wedgwood,
+(p. 398,) "from the crunching sound of eating the crisp, green herb."
+This is one of the instances in which he is lured from the plain path by
+the Nixy _Onomatopoeia_. The analogy between _cress_ and _grass_ flies
+in one's eyes; and, perhaps, the more probable derivation of the latter
+is from the root meaning to grow, rather than from that meaning to eat,
+unless, indeed, the two be originally identical. The A. S. forms
+_coers_ and _goers_ are almost identical. The Fr. _cresson_, from It.
+_crescione_, which Mr. Wedgwood cites, points in the direction of
+_crescere_; and the O. Fr. _cressonage_, implying a verb _cressoner_,
+means the right of _grazing_.--Under _dock_ Mr. Wedgwood would seem
+(he does not make himself quite clear) to refer It. _doccia_ to a root
+analogous with _dyke_ and _ditch_. He cites Prov. _doga_, which he
+translates by _bank_. Raynouard has only "_dogua_, douve, creux,
+cavite," and refers to It. _doga_. The primary meaning seems rather
+the hollow than the bank, though this would matter little, as the same
+transference of meaning may have taken place as in _dyke_ and _ditch_,
+But when Mr. Wedgwood gives mill-_dam_ as the first meaning of the word
+_doccia_, his wish seems to have stood godfather. Diez establishes the
+derivation of _doccia_ from _ductus_; and certainly the sense of
+a channel to lead (_ducere_) water in any desired direction is
+satisfactory. The derivative signification of _doccia_ (a gouge, a tool
+to make channels with) coincides. Moreover, we have the masculine form
+_doccio_, answering exactly to the Sp. _ducho_ in _aguaducho_, the _o_
+for _u_, as in _doge_ for _duce_, from the same root _ducere_. Another
+instance of Mr. Wedgwood's preferring the bird in the bush is to be
+found in his refusing to consider _dout_, to extinguish, (_do out_,) as
+analogous to _don, _doff_, and _dup_. He would rather connect it with
+_toedten, tuer_. He cites as allied words Bohemian _dusyti_, to choke, to
+extinguish; Polish _dusic_, to choke, stifle, quell; and so arrives at
+the English slang phrase, "_dowse_ the glim." As we find several other
+German words in thieves' English, we have little doubt that _dowse_ is
+nothing more than _thu' aus_, do (thou) out, which would bring us back
+to our starting-point.
+
+We have picked out a few instances in which we think Mr. Wedgwood
+demonstrably mistaken, because they show the temptation which is ever
+lying in wait to lead the theoretical etymologist astray. Mr. Wedgwood
+sometimes seems to reverse the natural order of things, and to reason
+backward from the simple to the more complex. He does not always respect
+the boundaries of legitimate deduction. On the other hand, his case
+becomes very strong where he finds relations of thought as well as of
+sound between whole classes of words in different languages. But it is
+very difficult to say how long ago instinctive imitation ceased and
+other elements are to be admitted as operative. We see words continually
+coming into vogue whose apparent etymologies, if all historical data of
+their origin were lost, would inevitably mislead. If we did not know,
+for example, the occasion which added the word _chouse_ to the English
+language, we have little doubt that the twofold analogy of form and
+meaning would have led etymologists to the German _kosen_, (with the
+very common softening of the _k_ to _ch_,) and that the derivation would
+have been perfectly satisfactory to most minds.--_Tantrums_ would look
+like a word of popular coinage, and yet we find a respectable Old High
+German verb _tantaron_, delirare, (Graff, V. 437,) which may perhaps
+help us to make out the etymology of _dander_, in our vulgar expression
+of "getting one's dander up," which is equivalent to flying into a
+passion.--_Jog_, in the sense of _going_, (to _jog_ along,) has a vulgar
+look. Richardson derives it from the same root with the other _jog_,
+which means to shake, ("A. S. _sceac-an_, to _shake_, or _shock_, or
+_shog_.") _Shog_ has nothing whatever to do with shaking, unless when
+Nym says to Pistol, "Will you _shog_ off?" he may be said to have shaken
+him off. When the Tinker in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Coxcomb" says,
+"Come, prithee, let's _shog_ off," what possible allusion to shaking is
+there, except, perhaps, to "shaking stumps"? The first _jog_ and _shog_
+are identical in meaning and derivation, and may be traced, by whosoever
+chooses, to the Gothic _tiuhan_, (Germ, _ziehen_,) and are therefore
+near of kin to our _tug_. _Togs_ and _toggery_ belong here also. (The
+connecting link may be seen in the preterite form _zog_.) The other
+_jog_ probably comes to us immediately from the French _choquer_; and
+its frequentative _joggle_ answers to the German _schutkeln_, It.
+_cioccolare_. Whether they are all remotely from the same radical is
+another question. We only cited it as a monosyllabic word, having
+the air of being formed by the imitative process, while its original
+_tiuhan_ makes quite another impression.--Had the word _ramose_ been a
+word of English slang-origin, (and it might easily have been imported,
+like so many more foreign phrases, by sailors,) we have as little doubt
+that a derivation of it from the Spanish _vamos_ would have failed to
+convince the majority of etymologists. This word is a good example of
+the way in which the people (and it is always the people, never the
+scholars, who succeed in adding to the spoken language) proceed in
+naturalizing a foreign term. The accent has gone over to the last
+syllable, in accordance with English usage in verbs of two syllables;
+and though the sharp sound of the _s_ has been thus far retained, it is
+doubtful how long it will maintain itself against a fancied analogy
+with the grave sound of the same letter in such words as _inclose_ and
+_suppose_.--We should incline to think the slang verb _to mosey_ a mere
+variety of form, and that its derivation from a certain absconding
+Mr. Moses (who broke the law of his great namesake through a blind
+admiration of his example in spoiling the Egyptians) was only a new
+instance of that tendency to mythologize which is as strong as ever
+among the uneducated. _Post, ergo propter_, is good people's-logic; and
+if an antecedent be wanting, it will not be long before one is invented.
+
+If we once admit the principle of _onomatopoeia_, the difficulty remains
+of drawing the line which shall define the territory within which those
+capable of judging would limit its operation. Its boundary would be
+a movable one, like that of our own Confederacy. Some students, from
+natural fineness of ear, would be quicker to recognize resemblances of
+sound; others would trace family likeness in spite of every disguise;
+others, whose exquisiteness of perception was mental, would find the
+scent in faint analogies of meaning, where the ordinary brain would be
+wholly at fault. In the original genesis of language, also, we should
+infer the influence of the same idiosyncrasies. We were struck with this
+the other day in a story we heard of a little boy, who, during a violent
+thunder-storm, asked his father what that was out there,--all the while
+winking rapidly to explain his meaning. Had his vocabulary been more
+complete, he would have asked what that _winking_ out there was. The
+impression made upon him by the lightning was not the ordinary one of
+brightness, (as in _blitz_, (?) _eclair_, _fulmen_, _flash_,) but of
+the rapid alternations of light and dark. Had he been obliged to make
+a language for himself, like the two unfortunate children on whom King
+Psarnmetichus made his linguistic experiment, he would have christened
+the phenomenon accordingly.
+
+Mr. Wedgwood has by no means carried out his theory fully even in
+reference to the words contained in his first volume, nor does the
+volume itself nearly exhaust the vocabulary of the letters it includes
+(A to D). Sometimes, where we should have expected him to apply his
+system, he refrains, whether from caution or oversight it is not easy
+to discover. The word _cow_, which is commonly referred to an imitative
+radical, he is provokingly reserved about; and under _chew_ he hints
+at no relation between the name of the action and that of the capital
+ruminant animal.[a] Even where he has derived a word from an imitative
+radical, he sometimes fails to carry the process on to some other where
+it would seem equally applicable, sometimes pushes it too far. For
+instance, "_Crag_. 1. The neck, the throat.--Jam. Du. _kraeghe_, the
+throat; Pol. _kark_, the nape, crag, neck; Bohem. _krk_, the neck; Icel.
+_krage_, Dan. _krave_, the collar of a coat. The origin is an imitation
+of the noise made by clearing the throat. Bohem. _krkati_, to belch,
+_krcati_, to vomit; Pol. _krzakae_, to hem, to hawk. The same root gives
+rise to the Fr. _cracher_, to spit, and It. _recere_, to vomit; E.
+_reach_, to strain in vomiting; Icel. _hraki_, spittle; A. S. _hrara_,
+cough, phlegm, the throat, jaws; G. _rachen_, the jaws." (As _crag_
+is not an English word, all this should have come under the head of
+_craw_.) "_Crag_. 2. A rock. Gael. _creag_, a rock; W. _careg_, a stone;
+_caregos_, pebbles." We do not see why the rattling sound of stones
+should not give them a claim to the same pedigree,--the name being
+afterwards transferred to the larger mass, the reverse of which we see
+in the popular _rock_ for _stone_. Nay, as Mr. Wedgwood (_sub voce
+draff_, p. 482) assumes _rac_ (more properly _rk_) as the root, it would
+answer equally well for _rock_ also. Indeed, as the chief occupation
+of crags, and their only amusement, in mountainous regions, is to pelt
+unwary passengers and hunters of scenery with their _debris_, we might
+have _creag, quasi caregos faciens sive dejiciens, sicut rupes a
+rumpere_. Indeed, there is an analogous Sanscrit root, meaning _break,
+crack_. But though Mr. Wedgwood lets off this coughing, hawking,
+spitting, and otherwise unpleasant old patriarch _Rac_ so easily in
+the case of the foundling _Crag_, he has by no means done with him.
+Stretched on the unfilial instrument of torture that bears his name, he
+is made to confess the paternity of _draff_, and _dregs_, and _dross_,
+and so many other uncleanly brats, that we feel as if he ought to be
+nailed by the ear to the other side of the same post on which Mr.
+Carlyle has pilloried August _der starke_ forever. But we honestly
+believe the old fellow to be belied, and that he is as guiltless of them
+as of that weak-witted Hebrew _Raca_ who looks so much like him in the
+face.
+
+[Footnote a: An etymology of this kind would have been particularly
+interesting in the hands of so learned and acute a man as Mr. Wedgwood.
+It would have afforded him a capital example of the fact that
+considerable differences in the form and sound of words meaning the same
+thing prove nothing against the onomatopoeic theory, but merely that the
+same sound represents a different thing to different ears. L. _Boare,
+mugire_, E. _moo_; F. _beugler_, E. _bellow_; G. _leuen_, L. _lugere_,
+E. _low_, are all attempts at the same sound, or, which would not affect
+the question, variations of an original radical _go_ or _gu_. For a
+full discussion of the matter, admirable for its thorough learning, see
+Pictet, _Les Origines Indo-Europeennes_, Vol. I. Section 86.]
+
+In the case of _crag_, Mr. Wedgwood argues from a sound whose frequency
+and marked character (and colds must have been frequent when the
+fig-tree was the only draper) gave a name to the organ producing it.
+We can easily imagine it. One of these early pagans comes home of an
+evening, heated from the chase, and squats himself on the damp clay
+floor of a country-seat imperfectly guarded against draughts. The next
+morning he says to his helpmeet, "Mrs. Barbar, I have a dreadful cold
+in my--_hrac_! _hrac_!" Here he is interrupted by a violent fit of
+coughing, and resorts to semeiology by pointing to his throat. Similar
+incidents carrying apprehension (as Lord Macaulay would say) to the
+breezy interiors of a thousand shanties on the same fatal morning, the
+domestic circle would know no name so expressive as _hrac_ for that
+fatal tube through which man, ingenious in illegitimate perversion,
+daily compels the innocent breath to discharge a plumbeous hail of
+rhetoric.
+
+But seriously, we think Mr. Wedgwood's derivation of _crag_ (or rather,
+that which he adopts, for it has had other advocates) a very probable
+one, at least for more northern tribes. There is no reason why men
+should have escaped the same law of nomenclature which gave names to the
+_cuckoo_ and the _pavo_.[a] But when he approaches _draff_, he gets upon
+thinner ice. Where a metaphorical appropriateness is plainly wanting to
+one etymology and another as plainly supplies it, other considerations
+being equal, probability may fairly turn the scale in favor of the
+latter. Mr. Wedgwood is here dealing with a sound translated to another
+meaning by an intellectual process of analogy; and no one knows better
+than he--for his book shows everywhere the fair-mindedness of a thorough
+scholar--the extreme difficulty of convincing other minds in such
+matters. He seems to have been unconsciously influenced in this case by
+a desire to give more support to a very ingenious etymology of the word
+_dream_. His process of reasoning may be briefly stated thus: _draff_
+and _dregs_ are refuse, they are things thrown away, sometimes (as in
+German _dreck_, sordes) they are even disgustful; and as there is no
+expression of contempt and disgust so strong as spitting, the sound
+_rac_ transferred itself by a natural association of ideas from the act
+to the object of it. He cites Du. _drabbe_, Dan. _drav_, Ger. _traebern_,
+Icel. _dregg_, Prov. _draco_, Ger., Du. _dreck_, O. F. _drache,
+dreche_, (and he might have added E. _trash_,) E. _dross_, all with
+nearly the same meaning. We have selected such as would show the
+different forms of the word. To the same radical Mr. Wedgwood refers G.
+_truejen_, _betruegen_, and this would carry with it our English _trick_
+(Prov. _tric_, in Diez, Fr. _triche_). In our opinion he is wrong,
+doubly wrong, inasmuch as we think he has confounded two widely
+different roots. He has taken his O. Fr. forms from Roquefort (Gloss.
+Rom. I. 411,) but has omitted one of his definitions, _coque qui
+enveloope le grain_, that is, the husk, or hull. Mr. Wedgwood might
+perhaps found an argument on this in support of our old friend _Rac_ and
+his relation to huskiness; but it seems to us one of those trifles, the
+turned leaf, or broken twig, that put one on the right trail. We
+accept Mr. Wedgwood's derivative signification of _refuse, worthless,
+contemptible_, and ask if all these terms do not apply equally well to
+the chaff of the threshing-floor? It is more satisfactory to us, then,
+to attribute a part of the words given above to the Gothic _dragan_,
+(L. _trahere_, G. _tragen_,) to drag, to draw, and a part to Goth.
+_thriskan_, to thresh. The conjecture of Diez, (cited by Diefenbach,)
+that the Italian _trescare_ (to stamp with the feet, to dance) should
+be referred to the same root, is confirmed by the ancient practice of
+threshing grain by treading it out with cattle. We might, indeed, refer
+all to one root, by deriving _dross_ (a provincial form of which is
+_drass_) through the O. Fr. _drache_, (as in O. Fr. _treche_, Fr.
+_tresse_, E. _tress_,) but we have A. S. _dresten_, which is better
+accounted for by _therscan_. The other forms, such as _drabbe_, _dregg_,
+and _dragan_, the _b_ and _v_ being analogous to E. _draggle, drabble,
+draught, draft_, all equally from _dragan_. We have a suspicion that
+_dragon_ is to be referred to the same root. Mr. Wedgwood follows
+Richardson, who follows Vossius in a fanciful etymology from the Greek
+[Greek: derkomai = blepein] to see. Sharpness of sight, it is true, was
+attributed to the mythologized reptile, but the primitive _draco_ was
+nothing but a large serpent, supposed to be the boa. This sense must
+accordingly be comparatively modern. The eagle is the universal type of
+keenness of vision. The reptile's way of moving himself without legs is
+his most striking peculiarity; and if we derive _dragon_ from the root
+meaning to drag, to draw, (because he draws himself along,) we find it
+analogous to _serpent_, _reptile_, _snake_.[b] The relation between
+[Greek: trechein] and _dragan_ may be seen in G. _ziehen_, meaning both
+to draw and to go. Mr. Wedgwood says that he finds it hard to conceive
+any relation between the notion of _treachery_, _betrayal_, (_truegen_,
+_betruegen_,) and that of drawing. It would seem that to _draw_ into
+an ambush, the _drawing_ of a fowler's net, and the more sublimated
+_drawing_ a man on to his destruction, supplied analogies enough. The
+contempt we feel for treachery (for it is only in this metaphysical way
+that Mr. Wedgwood can connect the word with his radical _rac_[c]) is a
+purely subsidiary, derivative, and comparatively modern notion. Many,
+perhaps most, kinds of treachery were looked upon as praiseworthy in
+early times, and are still so regarded among savages. Does Mr. Wedgwood
+believe that Romulus lost caste by the way in which he made so many
+respectable Sabines fathers-in-law against their will, or that the wise
+Odysseus was a perfectly admirable gentleman in our sense of the word?
+Even in the sixteenth century, in the then most civilized country of the
+world, the grave irony with which Macchiavelli commends the frightful
+treacheries of Caesar Borgia would have had no point, if he had not taken
+it for granted that almost all who read his treatise would suppose him
+to be in earnest. In the same way _dregs_ is explained simply as the
+sediment left after _drawing off_ liquids. _Dredge_ also is certainly,
+in one of its meanings, a derivative of _dragan_; so, too, _trick_ in
+whist, and perhaps _trudge_. Indeed, all the words above-cited are more
+like each other than Fr. _toit_ and E. _deck_, both from one root, or
+the Neapol. _sciu_ and the Lat. _flos_, from which it is corrupted.
+
+[Footnote a: The German _pfau_ retains the imitative sound which the
+English _pea_-cock has lost, and of which our system of pronunciation
+robs the Latin.]
+
+[Footnote b: And to _worm_, (another word for _dragon_,) if, as has been
+conjectured, there be any radical affinity between that and _schwaermen_,
+whose primitive sense of crawl or creep is seen in the _swarming_ of
+bees, and _swarming_ up a tree.]
+
+[Footnote c: That is, unless he takes the _rag_ in _dragan_ to be the
+same thing, which he might support with several plausible analogies,
+such as E. _rake_, It. _recare_, etc.]
+
+But the same subtilty of mind, which sometimes seduces Mr. Wedgwood into
+making distinctions without a difference and preferring an impalpable
+relation of idea to a plain derivative affinity, is of great advantage
+to him when the problem is to construct an etymology by following the
+gossamer clews that lead from sensual images to the metaphorical and
+tropical adaptations of them to the demands of fancy and thought. The
+nice optics that see what is not to be seen have passed into a sarcastic
+proverb; yet those are precisely the eyes that are in the heads and
+brains of all who accomplish much, whether in science, poetry, or
+philosophy. With the kind of etymologies we are speaking of, it is
+practically useful to have the German gift of summoning a thing up from
+the depths of one's inward consciousness. It is when Mr. Wedgwood would
+reverse the order of Nature, and proceed from the tropical to the direct
+and simple, that we are at issue with him. For it is not philosophers
+who make language, though they often unmake it.
+
+Mr. Wedgwood's most successful application of his system may be found,
+as we think, under the words, _dim_, _dumb_, _deaf_, and _death_. He
+might have confirmed the relation between dumbness and darkness from the
+acutest metaphysician among poets, in Dante's _ove il sol tace_. We have
+not left ourselves room enough to illustrate Mr. Wedgwood's handling of
+these etymologies by extracts; we must refer our readers to the book
+itself. Apart from its value as suggesting thought, or quickening our
+perception of shades of meaning, and so freshening our feeling of the
+intimate harmony of sense and spirit in language, and of the thousand
+ways in which the soul assumes the material world into her own heaven
+and transfigures it there, the volume will be found practically the most
+thorough contribution yet made to English etymology. We are glad to hear
+that we are to have an American edition of it under the able supervision
+of Mr. Marsh. Etymology becomes of practical importance, when, as the
+newspapers inform us, two members of a New York club have been fighting
+a duel because one of them doubted whether Garry Baldy were of Irish
+descent. Any student of language could have told them that Garibaldi is
+only the plural form (common in Italian family names) of Garibaldo, the
+Teutonic Heribald, whose meaning, appropriate enough in this case, would
+be nearly equivalent to Bold Leader.
+
+
+
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+Appleton & Co. 12mo. pp. 410. $1.00.
+
+Abridgment of the Debates of Congress, from 1789 to 1856. From Gales and
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+Thirty Yeats' View." Vol. XIV. New York. Appleton & Co. 8vo. pp. 747.
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+A History of New York, from the Beginning of the World to the End of the
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+the Headstrong,--the Three Dutch Governors of New Amsterdam: being the
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+The Confessions of Augustine. Edited, with an Introduction, by William
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+Quaker Quiddities; or, Friends in Council. A Colloquy. Boston. Crosby,
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+174. 75 cts.
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+Elements of English Composition, Grammatical, Rhetorical, Logical, and
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+Natural History. For the Use of Schools and Families. By Worthington
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+Somnambulism and Cramp. By Baron Reichenbach. Translated from the
+German, by John S. Hittell. New York. Calvin Blanchard. 12mo. pp. xxvi.,
+253. $1.00.
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+Right at Last, and Other Tales. By Mrs. Gaskell, Author of "Mary
+Barton," "Ruth," "Cranford," etc. New York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp.
+305. 75 eta.
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+The Three Clerks. A Novel. By Anthony Trollope, Author of "Dr. Thorne,"
+"The West Indies and the Spanish Main," etc. New York. Harper &
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+Travels, Researches, and Missionary Labors, during an Eighteen Years'
+Residence in Eastern Africa; together with Journeys to Jagga, Usambara,
+Ukambani, Shoa, Abessinia, and Khartum; and a Coasting Voyage from
+Mombaz to Cape Delgado. By the Rev. Dr. J. Lewis Krapf, Secretary of the
+Chrishona Institute at Basel, and late Missionary in the Service of the
+Church Missionary Society in Eastern and Equatorial Africa, etc., etc.
+With an Appendix respecting the Snow-capped Mountains of Eastern Africa;
+the Sources of the Nile; the Languages and Literature of Abessinia and
+Eastern Africa, etc., etc. And a Concise Account of the Geographical
+Researches in Eastern Africa up to the Discovery of the Uyenycsi by Dr.
+Livingstone, in September last. By E.J. Ravenstein, F.R.G.S. Boston.
+Ticknor & Fields. 8vo. pp. xi., 464. $1.25.
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+The Pathfinder; or, The Inland Sea. By J. Fenimore Cooper. Illustrated
+from Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. Townsend & Co. 12mo. pp. x.,
+515. $1.50.
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+Autobiographical Recollections. By the late Charles Robert Leslie, R.A.
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+12mo. pp. lx., 363. $1.25.
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+The Confederate Chieftains: A Tale of the Irish Rebellion of 1641. By
+Mrs. J. Sadlier, Author of "New Lights," "Red Hand of Ulster," etc. New
+York. Sadlier & Co. 12mo. pp. 460. $1.25.
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+The Mount Vernon Papers. By Edward Everett. New York. Appleton & Co.
+12mo. pp. xxii., 491. $1.25.
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+Leaves from a Bachelor's Book of Life. By Francis Copcutt. New York.
+Rollo. 12mo. pp. 250. $1.00.
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+Chamber's Encyclopaedia; a Dictionary of Universal Knowledge for
+the People. On the Basis of the Latest Edition of the German
+Conversations-Lexicon. Illustrated with Wood Engravings and Maps. Parts
+XIV. and XV. New York. Appleton & Co. 8vo. [each part] 64 pp. 15 cts.
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+The Sand-Hills of Jutland. By Hans Christia Andersen, Author of the
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+Euripides. Ex Recensione Frederici A. Paley. Accessit Verborum et
+Nominum Index. Vol. I. New York. Harper & Brothers. 18mo. pp. 304. 40
+cts.
+
+Castle Richmond. A Novel. By Anthony Trollope, Author of "Doctor
+Thorne," "The Three Clerks," etc. New York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp.
+474. $1.00.
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+Both Sides of the Grape Question. Together with a Classification of
+Species and Varieties of the Grape-Vine. Philadelphia. Lippincott & Co.
+16mo. paper, pp. 96. 25 cts.
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+Lovel the Widower. A Novel. By W.M. Thackeray, Author of "Vanity Fair,"
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+The Avoidable Causes of Disease, Insanity, and Deformity. By John Ellis,
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+Western Medical College of Cleveland, Ohio; Author of "Marriage and its
+Violations." A Book for the People as well as for the Profession. New
+York. Mason Brothers. 16mo. pp. 348, 48. $1.25.
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+Life in the Desert: or, Recollections of Travel in Asia and Africa. By
+Colonel L. Du Couret, (Hadji-Abd'el-Hamid-Bey,) Ex-Lieutenant of the
+Emirs of Mecca, Yemen, and Persia, Delegate of the French Government to
+Central Africa, Member of the Societe Orientale, Academie Nationale,
+etc. Translated from the French. New York. Mason Brothers. 12mo. pp.
+502. $1.25.
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+Immanuel. An Examination of the Two Natures of Christ in their Relations
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+D.B. Moseley, Printer. 8vo. paper, pp. 24. 15 cts.
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+The Barbarism of Slavery. Speech of Hon. Charles Sumner, on the Bill for
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