diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:08 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:08 -0700 |
| commit | 981726fb7bccc5d376ec390ff6ecb7d7f28134b6 (patch) | |
| tree | e9a3e4b80ebc90273855e910eee5bc694b9401c7 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11158-0.txt | 9335 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11158-8.txt | 9758 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11158-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 212798 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11158.txt | 9758 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11158.zip | bin | 0 -> 212723 bytes |
8 files changed, 28867 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11158-0.txt b/11158-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f1b8bd --- /dev/null +++ b/11158-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9335 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11158 *** + +THE + +ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. X.--NOVEMBER, 1862.--NO. LXI. + + + + +WILD APPLES. + + +THE HISTORY OF THE APPLE-TREE. + + +It is remarkable how closely the history of the Apple-tree is connected +with that of man. The geologist tells us that the order of the +_Rosaceae_, which includes the Apple, also the true Grasses, and the +_Labiatae_, or Mints, were introduced only a short time previous to the +appearance of man on the globe. + +It appears that apples made a part of the food of that unknown primitive +people whose traces have lately been found at the bottom of the Swiss +lakes, supposed to be older than the foundation of Rome, so old that +they had no metallic implements. An entire black and shrivelled +Crab-Apple has been recovered from their stores. + +Tacitus says of the ancient Germans, that they satisfied their hunger +with wild apples (_agrestia poma_) among other things. + +Niebuhr observes that "the words for a house, a field, a plough, +ploughing, wine, oil, milk, sheep, apples, and others relating to +agriculture and the gentler way of life, agree in Latin and Greek, while +the Latin words for all objects pertaining to war or the chase are +utterly alien from the Greek." Thus the apple-tree may be considered a +symbol of peace no less than the olive. + +The apple was early so important, and generally distributed, that its +name traced to its root in many languages signifies fruit in general. +[Greek: Maelon], in Greek, means an apple, also the fruit of other +trees, also a sheep and any cattle, and finally riches in general. + +The apple-tree has been celebrated by the Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and +Scandinavians. Some have thought that the first human pair were tempted +by its fruit. Goddesses are fabled to have contended for it, dragons +were set to watch it, and heroes were employed to pluck it. + +The tree is mentioned in at least three places in the Old Testament, +and its fruit in two or three more. Solomon sings,--"As the apple-tree +among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." And +again,--"Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples." The noblest part +of man's noblest feature is named from this fruit, "the apple of the +eye." + +The apple-tree is also mentioned by Homer and Herodotus. Ulysses saw in +the glorious garden of Alcinoüs "pears and pomegranates, and apple-trees +bearing beautiful fruit" ([Greek: kahi maeleai aglaokarpoi]). And +according to Homer, apples were among the fruits which Tantalus +could not pluck, the wind ever blowing their boughs away from him. +Theophrastus knew and described the apple-tree as a botanist. + +According to the Prose Edda, "Iduna keeps in a box the apples which +the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of +to become young again. It is in this manner that they will be kept in +renovated youth until Ragnarök" (or the destruction of the gods). + +I learn from Loudon that "the ancient Welsh bards were rewarded for +excelling in song by the token of the apple-spray;" and "in the +Highlands of Scotland the apple-tree is the badge of the clan Lamont." + +The apple-tree (_Pyrus malus_) belongs chiefly to the northern temperate +zone. Loudon says, that "it grows spontaneously in every part of Europe +except the frigid zone, and throughout Western Asia, China, and Japan." +We have also two or three varieties of the apple indigenous in North +America. The cultivated apple-tree was first introduced into this +country by the earliest settlers, and it is thought to do as well or +better here than anywhere else. Probably some of the varieties which are +now cultivated were first introduced into Britain by the Romans. + +Pliny, adopting the distinction of Theophrastus, says,--"Of trees there +are some which are altogether wild (_sylvestres_), some more civilized +(_urbaniores_)." Theophrastus includes the apple among the last; and, +indeed, it is in this sense the most civilized of all trees. It is as +harmless as a dove, as beautiful as a rose, and as valuable as flocks +and herds. It has been longer cultivated than any other, and so is more +humanized; and who knows but, like the dog, it will at length be no +longer traceable to its wild original? It migrates with man, like the +dog and horse and cow: first, perchance, from Greece to Italy, thence to +England, thence to America; and our Western emigrant is still marching +steadily toward the setting sun with the seeds of the apple in his +pocket, or perhaps a few young trees strapped to his load. At least a +million apple-trees are thus set farther westward this year than any +cultivated ones grew last year. Consider how the Blossom-Week, like the +Sabbath, is thus annually spreading over the prairies; for when man +migrates, he carries with him not only his birds, quadrupeds, insects, +vegetables, and his very sward, but his orchard also. + +The leaves and tender twigs are an agreeable food to many domestic +animals, as the cow, horse, sheep, and goat; and the fruit is sought +after by the first, as well as by the hog. Thus there appears to have +existed a natural alliance between these animals and this tree from the +first. "The fruit of the Crab in the forests of France" is said to be "a +great resource for the wild-boar." + +Not only the Indian, but many indigenous insects, birds, and quadrupeds, +welcomed the apple-tree to these shores. The tent-caterpillar saddled +her eggs on the very first twig that was formed, and it has since shared +her affections with the wild cherry; and the canker-worm also in +a measure abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it grew apace, the +blue-bird, robin, cherry-bird, king-bird, and many more, came with +haste and built their nests and warbled in its boughs, and so became +orchard-birds, and multiplied more than ever. It was an era in the +history of their race. The downy woodpecker found such a savory morsel +under its bark, that he perforated it in a ring quite round the tree, +before he left it,--a thing which he had never done before, to my +knowledge. It did not take the partridge long to find out how sweet its +buds were, and every winter eve she flew, and still flies, from the +wood, to pluck them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too, was +not slow to learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the fruit +was ripe, the squirrel half-rolled, half-carried it to his hole; and +even the musquash crept up the bank from the brook at evening, and +greedily devoured it, until he had worn a path in the grass there; and +when it was frozen and thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste +it occasionally. The owl crept into the first apple-tree that became +hollow, and fairly hooted with delight, finding it just the place for +him; so, settling down into it, he has remained there ever since. + +My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the +seasons in the annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to my +special province. + +The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree's, +so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is +frequently tempted to turn and linger near some more than usually +handsome one, whose blossoms are two-thirds expanded. How superior it is +in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither colored nor +fragrant! + +By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of +coddling, and of the autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with little +ones which fall still-born, as it were,--Nature thus thinning them for +us. The Roman writer Palladius said,--"If apples are inclined to fall +before their time, a stone placed in a split root will retain them." +Some such notion, still surviving, may account for some of the stones +which we see placed to be overgrown in the forks of trees. They have a +saying in Suffolk, England,-- + + "At Michaelmas time, or a little before, + Half an apple goes to the core." + +Early apples begin to be ripe about the first of August; but I think +that none of them are so good to eat as some to smell. One is worth more +to scent your handkerchief with than any perfume which they sell in the +shops. The fragrance of some fruits is not to be forgotten, along with +that of flowers. Some gnarly apple which I pick up in the road reminds +me by its fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona,--carrying me forward to +those days when they will be collected in golden and ruddy heaps in the +orchards and about the cider-mills. + +A week or two later, as you are going by orchards or gardens, especially +in the evenings, you pass through a little region possessed by the +fragrance of ripe apples, and thus enjoy them without price, and without +robbing anybody. + +There is thus about all natural products a certain volatile and ethereal +quality which represents their highest value, and which cannot be +vulgarized, or bought and sold. No mortal has ever enjoyed the perfect +flavor of any fruit, and only the god-like among men begin to taste its +ambrosial qualities. For nectar and ambrosia are only those fine flavors +of every earthly fruit which our coarse palates fail to perceive,--just +as we occupy the heaven of the gods without knowing it. When I see a +particularly mean man carrying a load of fair and fragrant early apples +to market, I seem to see a contest going on between him and his horse, +on the one side, and the apples on the other, and, to my mind, the +apples always gain it. Pliny says that apples are the heaviest of all +things, and that the oxen begin to sweat at the mere sight of a load +of them. Our driver begins to lose his load the moment he tries to +transport them to where they do not belong, that is, to any but the most +beautiful. Though he gets out from time to time, and feels of them, and +thinks they are all there, I see the stream of their evanescent and +celestial qualities going to heaven from his cart, while the pulp and +skin and core only are going to market. They are not apples, but pomace. +Are not these still Iduna's apples, the taste of which keeps the gods +forever young? and think you that they will let Loki or Thjassi carry +them off to Jötunheim, while they grow wrinkled and gray? No, for +Ragnarök, or the destruction of the gods, is not yet. + +There is another thinning of the fruit, commonly near the end of August +or in September, when the ground is strewn with windfalls; and this +happens especially when high winds occur after rain. In some orchards +you may see fully three-quarters of the whole crop on the ground, lying +in a circular form beneath the trees, yet hard and green,--or, if it is +a hill-side, rolled far down the hill. However, it is an ill wind that +blows nobody any good. All the country over, people are busy picking up +the windfalls, and this will make them cheap for early apple-pies. + +In October, the leaves falling, the apples are more distinct on the +trees. I saw one year in a neighboring town some trees fuller of fruit +than I remembered to have ever seen before, small yellow apples hanging +over the road. The branches were gracefully drooping with their weight, +like a barberry-bush, so that the whole tree acquired a new character. +Even the topmost branches, instead of standing erect, spread and drooped +in all directions; and there were so many poles supporting the lower +ones, that they looked like pictures of banian-trees. As an old English +manuscript says, "The mo appelen the tree bereth, the more sche boweth +to the folk." + +Surely the apple is the noblest of fruits. Let the most beautiful or the +swiftest have it. That should be the "going" price of apples. + +Between the fifth and twentieth of October I see the barrels lie under +the trees. And perhaps I talk with one who is selecting some choice +barrels to fulfil an order. He turns a specked one over many times +before he leaves it out. If I were to tell what is passing in my mind, I +should say that every one was specked which he had handled; for he rubs +off all the bloom, and those fugacious ethereal qualities leave it. Cool +evenings prompt the farmers to make haste, and at length I see only the +ladders here and there left leaning against the trees. + +It would be well, if we accepted these gifts with more joy and +gratitude, and did not think it enough simply to put a fresh load of +compost about the tree. Some old English customs are suggestive at +least. I find them described chiefly in Brand's "Popular Antiquities." +It appears that "on Christmas eve the farmers and their men in +Devonshire take a large bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and carrying +it in state to the orchard, they salute the apple-trees with much +ceremony, in order to make them bear well the next season." This +salutation consists in "throwing some of the cider about the roots +of the tree, placing bits of the toast on the branches," and then, +"encircling one of the best bearing trees in the orchard, they drink the +following toast three several times:-- + + 'Here's to thee, old apple-tree, + Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow, + And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! + Hats-full! caps-full! + Bushel, bushel, sacks-full! + And my pockets full, too! Hurra!'" + +Also what was called "apple-howling" used to be practised in various +counties of England on New-Year's eve. A troop of boys visited the +different orchards, and, encircling the apple-trees, repeated the +following words:-- + + "Stand fast, root! bear well, top! + Pray God sent! us a good howling crop: + Every twig, apples big; + Every bough, apples enow!" + +"They then shout in chorus, one of the boys accompanying them on a cow's +horn. During this ceremony they rap the trees with their sticks." This +is called "wassailing" the trees, and is thought by some to be "a relic +of the heathen sacrifice to Pomona." + +Herrick sings,-- + + "Wassaile the trees that they may beare + You many a plum and many a peare; + For more or less fruits they will bring + As you so give them wassailing." + +Our poets have as yet a better right to sing of cider than of wine; but +it behooves them to sing better than English Phillips did, else they +will do no credit to their Muse. + + +THE WILD APPLE. + + +So much for the more civilized apple-trees (_urbaniores_, as Pliny +calls them). I love better to go through the old orchards of ungrafted +apple-trees, at whatever season of the year,--so irregularly planted: +sometimes two trees standing close together; and the rows so devious +that you would think that they not only had grown while the owner was +sleeping, but had been set out by him in a somnambulic state. The rows +of grafted fruit will never tempt me to wander amid them like these. But +I now, alas, speak rather from memory than from any recent experience, +such ravages have been made! + +Some soils, like a rocky tract called the Easterbrooks Country in my +neighborhood, are so suited to the apple, that it will grow faster in +them without any care, or if only the ground is broken up once a year, +than it will in many places with any amount of care. The owners of this +tract allow that the soil is excellent for fruit, but they say that it +is so rocky that they have not patience to plough it, and that, together +with the distance, is the reason why it is not cultivated. There are, +or were recently, extensive orchards there standing without order. Nay, +they spring up wild and bear well there in the midst of pines, birches, +maples, and oaks. I am often surprised to see rising amid these trees +the rounded tops of apple-trees glowing with red or yellow fruit, in +harmony with the autumnal tints of the forest. + +Going up the side of a cliff about the first of November, I saw a +vigorous young apple-tree, which, planted by birds or cows, had shot +up amid the rocks and open woods there, and had now much fruit on it, +uninjured by the frosts, when all cultivated apples were gathered. It +was a rank wild growth, with many green leaves on it still, and made an +impression of thorniness. The fruit was hard and green, but looked as if +it would be palatable in the winter. Some was dangling on the twigs, but +more half-buried in the wet leaves under the tree, or rolled far down +the hill amid the rocks. The owner knows nothing of it. The day was not +observed when it first blossomed, nor when it first bore fruit, unless +by the chickadee. There was no dancing on the green beneath it in its +honor, and now there is no hand to pluck its fruit,--which is only +gnawed by squirrels, as I perceive. It has done double duty,--not only +borne this crop, but each twig has grown a foot into the air. And this +is _such_ fruit! bigger than many berries, we must admit, and carried +home will be sound and palatable next spring. What care I for Iduna's +apples so long as I can get these? + +When I go by this shrub thus late and hardy, and see its dangling fruit, +I respect the tree, and I am grateful for Nature's bounty, even though +I cannot eat it. Here on this rugged and woody hill-side has grown an +apple-tree, not planted by man, no relic of a former orchard, but a +natural growth, like the pines and oaks. Most fruits which we prize and +use depend entirely on our care. Corn and grain, potatoes, peaches, +melons, etc., depend altogether on our planting; but the apple emulates +man's independence and enterprise. It is not simply carried, as I have +said, but, like him, to some extent, it has migrated to this New World, +and is even, here and there, making its way amid the aboriginal trees; +just as the ox and dog and horse sometimes run wild and maintain +themselves. + +Even the sourest and crabbedest apple, growing in the most unfavorable +position, suggests such thoughts as these, it is so noble a fruit. + + +THE CRAB. + + +Nevertheless, _our_ wild apple is wild only like myself, perchance, who +belong not to the aboriginal race here, but have strayed into the woods +from the cultivated stock. Wilder still, as I have said, there grows +elsewhere in this country a native and aboriginal Crab-Apple, _Malus +coronaria_, "whose nature has not yet been modified by cultivation." It +is found from Western New-York to Minnesota, and southward. Michaux +says that its ordinary height "is fifteen or eighteen feet, but it is +sometimes found twenty-five or thirty feet high," and that the large +ones "exactly resemble the common apple-tree." "The flowers are white +mingled with rose-color, and are collected in corymbs." They are +remarkable for their delicious odor. The fruit, according to him, is +about an inch and a half in diameter, and is intensely acid. Yet they +make fine sweetmeats, and also cider of them. He concludes, that, "if, +on being cultivated, it does not yield new and palatable varieties, it +will at least be celebrated for the beauty of its flowers, and for the +sweetness of its perfume." + +I never saw the Crab-Apple till May, 1861. I had heard of it through +Michaux, but more modern botanists, so far as I know, have not treated +it as of any peculiar importance. Thus it was a half-fabulous tree +to me. I contemplated a pilgrimage to the "Glades," a portion of +Pennsylvania where it was said to grow to perfection. I thought of +sending to a nursery for it, but doubted if they had it, or would +distinguish it from European varieties. At last I had occasion to go to +Minnesota, and on entering Michigan I began to notice from the cars a +tree with handsome rose-colored flowers. At first I thought it some +variety of thorn; but it was not long before the truth flashed on me, +that this was my long-sought Crab-Apple. It was the prevailing +flowering shrub or tree to be seen from the cars at that season of the +year,--about the middle of May. But the cars never stopped before one, +and so I was launched on the bosom of the Mississippi without having +touched one, experiencing the fate of Tantalus. On arriving at St. +Anthony's Falls, I was sorry to be told that I was too far north for the +Crab-Apple. Nevertheless I succeeded in finding it about eight miles +west of the Falls; touched it and smelled it, and secured a lingering +corymb of flowers for my herbarium. This must have been near its +northern limit. + + +HOW THE WILD APPLE GROWS. + + +But though these are indigenous, like the Indians, I doubt whether they +are any hardier than those backwoodsmen among the apple-trees, which, +though descended from cultivated stocks, plant themselves in distant +fields and forests, where the soil is favorable to them. I know of no +trees which have more difficulties to contend with, and which more +sturdily resist their foes. These are the ones whose story we have to +tell. It oftentimes reads thus:-- + +Near the beginning of May, we notice little thickets of apple-trees just +springing up in the pastures where cattle have been,--as the rocky ones +of our Easter-brooks Country, or the top of Nobscot Hill, in +Sudbury. One or two of these perhaps survive the drought and other +accidents,--their very birthplace defending them against the encroaching +grass and some other dangers, at first. + + In two years' time 't had thus + Reached the level of the rocks, + Admired the stretching world, + Nor feared the wandering flocks. + + But at this tender age + Its sufferings began; + There came a browsing ox + And cut it down a span. + +This time, perhaps, the ox does not notice it amid the grass; but +the next year, when it has grown more stout, he recognizes it for a +fellow-emigrant from the old country, the flavor of whose leaves and +twigs he well knows; and though at first he pauses to welcome it, and +express his surprise, and gets for answer, "The same cause that brought +you here brought me," he nevertheless browses it again, reflecting, it +may be, that he has some title to it. + +Thus cut down annually, it does not despair; but, putting forth two +short twigs for every one cut off, it spreads out low along the ground +in the hollows or between the rocks, growing more stout and scrubby, +until it forms, not a tree as yet, but a little pyramidal, stiff, twiggy +mass, almost as solid and impenetrable as a rock. Some of the densest +and most impenetrable clumps of bushes that I have ever seen, as well on +account of the closeness and stubbornness of their branches as of their +thorns, have been these wild-apple scrubs. They are more like the +scrubby fir and black spruce on which you stand, and sometimes walk, on +the tops of mountains, where cold is the demon they contend with, than +anything else. No wonder they are prompted to grow thorns at last, to +defend themselves against such foes. In their thorniness, however, there +is no malice, only some malic acid. + +The rocky pastures of the tract I have referred to--for they maintain +their ground best in a rocky field--are thickly sprinkled with these +little tufts, reminding you often of some rigid gray mosses or lichens, +and you see thousands of little trees just springing up between them, +with the seed still attached to them. + +Being regularly clipped all around each year by the cows, as a hedge +with shears, they are often of a perfect conical or pyramidal form, from +one to four feet high, and more or less sharp, as if trimmed by the +gardener's art. In the pastures on Nobscot Hill and its spurs, they make +fine dark shadows when the sun is low. They are also an excellent covert +from hawks for many small birds that roost and build in them. Whole +flocks perch in them at night, and I have seen three robins' nests in +one which was six feet in diameter. + +No doubt many of these are already old trees, if you reckon from the day +they were planted, but infants still when you consider their development +and the long life before them. I counted the annual rings of some which +were just one foot high, and as wide as high, and found that they were +about twelve years old, but quite sound and thrifty! They were so +low that they were unnoticed by the walker, while many of their +contemporaries from the nurseries were already bearing considerable +crops. But what you gain in time is perhaps in this case, too, lost +in power,--that is, in the vigor of the tree. This is their pyramidal +state. + +The cows continue to browse them thus for twenty years or more, keeping +them down and compelling them to spread, until at last they are so broad +that they become their own fence, when some interior shoot, which their +foes cannot reach, darts upward with joy: for it has not forgotten its +high calling, and bears its own peculiar fruit in triumph. + +Such are the tactics by which it finally defeats its bovine foes. Now, +if you have watched the progress of a particular shrub, you will see +that it is no longer a simple pyramid or cone, but that out of its apex +there rises a sprig or two, growing more lustily perchance than an +orchard-tree, since the plant now devotes the whole of its repressed +energy to these upright parts. In a short time these become a small +tree, an inverted pyramid resting on the apex of the other, so that +the whole has now the form of a vast hour-glass. The spreading bottom, +having served its purpose, finally disappears, and the generous tree +permits the now harmless cows to come in and stand in its shade, and rub +against and redden its trunk, which has grown in spite of them, and even +to taste a part of its fruit, and so disperse the seed. + +Thus the cows create their own shade and food; and the tree, its +hour-glass being inverted, lives a second life, as it were. + +It is an important question with some nowadays, whether you should trim +young apple-trees as high as your nose or as high as your eyes. The +ox trims them up as high as he can reach, and that is about the right +height, I think. + +In spite of wandering kine, and other adverse circumstances, that +despised shrub, valued only by small birds as a covert and shelter from +hawks, has its blossom-week at last, and in course of time its harvest, +sincere, though small. + +By the end of some October, when its leaves have fallen, I frequently +see such a central sprig, whose progress I have watched, when I thought +it had forgotten its destiny, as I had, bearing its first crop of small +green or yellow or rosy fruit, which the cows cannot get at over the +bushy and thorny hedge which surrounds it, and I make haste to taste the +new and undescribed variety. We have all heard of the numerous varieties +of fruit invented by Van Mons and Knight. This is the system of Van Cow, +and she has invented far more and more memorable varieties than both of +them. + +Through what hardships it may attain to bear a sweet fruit! Though +somewhat small, it may prove equal, if not superior, in flavor to that +which has grown in a garden,--will perchance be all the sweeter and more +palatable for the very difficulties it has had to contend with. Who +knows but this chance wild fruit, planted by a cow or a bird on some +remote and rocky hill-side, where it is as yet unobserved by man, may be +the choicest of all its kind, and foreign potentates shall hear of it, +and royal societies seek to propagate it, though the virtues of the +perhaps truly crabbed owner of the soil may never be heard of,--at +least, beyond the limits of his village? It was thus the Porter and the +Baldwin grew. + +Every wild-apple shrub excites our expectation thus, somewhat as every +wild child. It is, perhaps, a prince in disguise. What a lesson to man! +So are human beings, referred to the highest standard, the celestial +fruit which they suggest and aspire to bear, browsed on by fate; and +only the most persistent and strongest genius defends itself and +prevails, sends a tender scion upward at last, and drops its perfect +fruit on the ungrateful earth. Poets and philosophers and statesmen thus +spring up in the country pastures, and outlast the hosts of unoriginal +men. + +Such is always the pursuit of knowledge. The celestial fruits, the +golden apples of the Hesperides, are ever guarded by a hundred-headed +dragon which never sleeps, so that it is an Herculean labor to pluck +them. + +This is one, and the most remarkable way, in which the wild apple is +propagated; but commonly it springs up at wide intervals in woods and +swamps, and by the sides of roads, as the soil may suit it, and grows +with comparative rapidity. Those which grow in dense woods are very tall +and slender. I frequently pluck from these trees a perfectly mild and +tamed fruit. As Palladius says, "_Et injussu consternitur ubere mali_": +And the ground is strewn with the fruit of an unbidden apple-tree. + +It is an old notion, that, if these wild trees do not bear a valuable +fruit of their own, they are the best stocks by which to transmit to +posterity the most highly prized qualities of others. However, I am not +in search of stocks, but the wild fruit itself, whose fierce gust has +suffered no "inteneration," It is not my + + "highest plot + To plant the Bergamot." + + +THE FRUIT, AND ITS FLAVOR. + + +The time for wild apples is the last of October and the first of +November. They then get to be palatable, for they ripen late, and they +are still perhaps as beautiful as ever. I make a great account of +these fruits, which the farmers do not think it worth the while to +gather,--wild flavors of the Muse, vivacious and inspiriting. The farmer +thinks that he has better in his barrels, but he is mistaken, unless he +has a walker's appetite and imagination, neither of which can he have. + +Such as grow quite wild, and are left out till the first of November, I +presume that the owner does not mean to gather. They belong to children +as wild as themselves,--to certain active boys that I know,--to the +wild-eyed woman of the fields, to whom nothing comes amiss, who gleans +after all the world,--and, moreover, to us walkers. We have met with +them, and they are ours. These rights, long enough insisted upon, have +come to be an institution in some old countries, where they have learned +how to live. I hear that "the custom of grippling, which may be called +apple-gleaning, is, or was formerly, practised in Herefordshire. It +consists in leaving a few apples, which are called the gripples, on +every tree, after the general gathering, for the boys, who go with +climbing-poles and bags to collect them." + +As for those I speak of, I pluck them as a wild fruit, native to this +quarter of the earth,--fruit of old trees that have been dying ever +since I was a boy and are not yet dead, frequented only by the +woodpecker and the squirrel, deserted now by the owner, who has not +faith enough to look under their boughs. From the appearance of the +tree-top, at a little distance, you would expect nothing but lichens to +drop from it, but your faith is rewarded by finding the ground strewn +with spirited fruit,--some of it, perhaps, collected at squirrel-holes, +with the marks of their teeth by which they carried them,--some +containing a cricket or two silently feeding within, and some, +especially in damp days, a shelless snail. The very sticks and stones +lodged in the tree-top might have convinced you of the savoriness of the +fruit which has been so eagerly sought after in past years. + +I have seen no account of these among the "Fruits and Fruit-Trees of +America," though they are more memorable to my taste than the grafted +kinds; more racy and wild American flavors do they possess, when October +and November, when December and January, and perhaps February and March +even, have assuaged them somewhat. An old farmer in my neighborhood, who +always selects the right word, says that "they have a kind of bow-arrow +tang." + +Apples for grafting appear to have been selected commonly, not so much +for their spirited flavor, as for their mildness, their size, and +bearing qualities,--not so much for their beauty, as for their fairness +and soundness. Indeed, I have no faith in the selected lists of +pomological gentlemen. Their "Favorites" and "None-suches" and +"Seek-no-farthers," when I have fruited them, commonly turn out very +tame and forgetable. They are eaten with comparatively little zest, and +have no real _tang_ nor _smack_ to them. + +What if some of these wildings are acrid and puckery, genuine +_verjuice_, do they not still belong to the _Pomaceae_, which are +uniformly innocent and kind to our race? I still begrudge them to the +cider-mill. Perhaps they are not fairly ripe yet. + +No wonder that these small and high-colored apples are thought to make +the best cider. Loudon quotes from the "Herefordshire Report," that +"apples of a small size are always, if equal in quality, to be preferred +to those of a larger size, in order that the rind and kernel may bear +the greatest proportion to the pulp, which affords the weakest and +most watery juice." And he says, that, "to prove this, Dr. Symonds, of +Hereford, about the year 1800, made one hogshead of cider entirely from +the rinds and cores of apples, and another from the pulp only, when the +first was found of extraordinary strength and flavor, while the latter +was sweet and insipid." + +Evelyn says that the "Red-strake" was the favorite cider-apple in his +day; and he quotes one Dr. Newburg as saying, "In Jersey 't is a general +observation, as I hear, that the more of red any apple has in its rind, +the more proper it is for this use. Pale-faced apples they exclude as +much as may be from their cider-vat." This opinion still prevails. + +All apples are good in November. Those which the farmer leaves out +as unsalable, and unpalatable to those who frequent the markets, are +choicest fruit to the walker. But it is remarkable that the wild apple, +which I praise as so spirited and racy when eaten in the fields or +woods, being brought into the house, has frequently a harsh and crabbed +taste. The Saunterer's Apple not even the saunterer can eat in the +house. The palate rejects it there, as it does haws and acorns, and +demands a tamed one; for there you miss the November air, which is the +sauce it is to be eaten with. Accordingly, when Tityrus, seeing the +lengthening shadows, invites Melibaeus to go home and pass the night +with him, he promises him _mild_ apples and soft chestnuts,--_mitia +poma, castaneae molles_. I frequently pluck wild apples of so rich and +spicy a flavor that I wonder all orchardists do not get a scion from +that tree, and I fail not to bring home my pockets full. But perchance, +when I take one out of my desk and taste it in my chamber, I find it +unexpectedly crude,--sour enough to set a squirrel's teeth on edge and +make a jay scream. + +These apples have hung in the wind and frost and rain till they have +absorbed the qualities of the weather or season, and thus are highly +_seasoned_, and they _pierce_ and _sting_ and _permeate_ us with +their spirit. They must be eaten in _season_, accordingly,--that is, +out-of-doors. + +To appreciate the wild and sharp flavors of these October fruits, it is +necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air. The +out-door air and exercise which the walker gets give a different tone to +his palate, and he craves a fruit which the sedentary would call harsh +and crabbed. They must be eaten in the fields, when your system is all +aglow with exercise, when the frosty weather nips your fingers, the wind +rattles the bare boughs or rustles the few remaining leaves, and the +jay is heard screaming around. What is sour in the house a bracing walk +makes sweet. Some of these apples might be labelled, "To be eaten in the +wind." + +Of course no flavors are thrown away; they are intended for the taste +that is up to them. Some apples have two distinct flavors, and perhaps +one-half of them must be eaten in the house, the other out-doors. One +Peter Whitney wrote from Northborough in 1782, for the Proceedings of +the Boston Academy, describing an apple-tree in that town "producing +fruit of opposite qualities, part of the same apple being frequently +sour and the other sweet;" also some all sour, and others all sweet, and +this diversity on all parts of the tree. + +There is a wild apple on Nawshawtuct Hill in my town which has to me a +peculiarly pleasant bitter tang, not perceived till it is three-quarters +tasted. It remains on the tongue. As you eat it, it smells exactly like +a squash-bug. It is a sort of triumph to eat and relish it. + +I hear that the fruit of a kind of plum-tree in Provence is "called +_Prunes sibarelles_, because it is impossible to whistle after having +eaten them, from their sourness." But perhaps they were only eaten +in the house and in summer, and if tried out-of-doors in a stinging +atmosphere, who knows but you could whistle an octave higher and +clearer? + +In the fields only are the sours and bitters of Nature appreciated; just +as the wood-chopper eats his meal in a sunny glade, in the middle of +a winter day, with content, basks in a sunny ray there and dreams of +summer in a degree of cold which, experienced in a chamber, would make a +student miserable. They who are at work abroad are not cold, but rather +it is they who sit shivering in houses. As with temperatures, so with +flavors; as with cold and heat, so with sour and sweet. This natural +raciness, the sours and bitters which the diseased palate refuses, are +the true condiments. + +Let your condiments be in the condition of your senses. To appreciate +the flavor of these wild apples requires vigorous and healthy senses, +_papillae_ firm and erect on the tongue and palate, not easily flattened +and tamed. + +From my experience with wild apples, I can understand that there may be +reason for a savage's preferring many kinds of food which the civilized +man rejects. The former has the palate of an out-door man. It takes a +savage or wild taste to appreciate a wild fruit. + +What a healthy out-of-door appetite it takes to relish the apple of +life, the apple of the world, then! + + "Nor is it every apple I desire, + Nor that which pleases every palate best; + 'T is not the lasting Deuxan I require, + Nor yet the red-cheeked Greening I request, + Nor that which first beshrewed the name of + wife, + Nor that whose beauty caused the golden + strife: + No, no! bring me an apple from the tree of + life!" + +So there is one thought for the field, another for the house. I would +have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and will not +warrant them to be palatable, if tasted in the house. + + +THEIR BEAUTY. + + +Almost all wild apples are handsome. They cannot be too gnarly and +crabbed and rusty to look at. The gnarliest will have some redeeming +traits even to the eye. You will discover some evening redness dashed or +sprinkled on some protuberance or in some cavity. It is rare that the +summer lets an apple go without streaking or spotting it on some part of +its sphere. It will have some red stains, commemorating the mornings and +evenings it has witnessed; some dark and rusty blotches, in memory of +the clouds and foggy, mildewy days that have passed over it; and a +spacious field of green reflecting the general face of Nature,--green +even as the fields; or a yellow ground, which implies a milder +flavor,--yellow as the harvest, or russet as the hills. + +Apples, these I mean, unspeakably fair,--apples not of Discord, but +of Concord! Yet not so rare but that the homeliest may have a share. +Painted by the frosts, some a uniform clear bright yellow, or red, or +crimson, as if their spheres had regularly revolved, and enjoyed the +influence of the sun on all sides alike,--some with the faintest pink +blush imaginable,--some brindled with deep red streaks like a cow, +or with hundreds of fine blood-red rays running regularly from +the stem-dimple to the blossom-end, like meridional lines, on a +straw-colored ground,--some touched with a greenish rust, like a fine +lichen, here and there, with crimson blotches or eyes more or less +confluent and fiery when wet,--and others gnarly, and freckled or +peppered all over on the stem side with fine crimson spots on a white +ground, as if accidentally sprinkled from the brush of Him who paints +the autumn leaves. Others, again, are sometimes red inside, perfused +with a beautiful blush, fairy food, too beautiful to eat,--apple of the +Hesperides, apple of the evening sky! But like shells and pebbles on the +sea-shore, they must be seen as they sparkle amid the withering leaves +in some dell in the woods, in the autumnal air, or as they lie in the +wet grass, and not when they have wilted and faded in the house. + + +THE NAMING OF THEM. + + +It would be a pleasant pastime to find suitable names for the hundred +varieties which go to a single heap at the cider-mill. Would it not +tax a man's invention,--no one to be named after a man, and all in the +_lingua vernacula_? Who shall stand godfather at the christening of the +wild apples? It would exhaust the Latin and Greek languages, if they +were used, and make the _lingua vernacula_ flag. We should have to call +in the sunrise and the sunset, the rainbow and the autumn woods and the +wild flowers, and the woodpecker and the purple finch and the squirrel +and the jay and the butterfly, the November traveller and the truant +boy, to our aid. + +In 1836 there were in the garden of the London Horticultural Society +more than fourteen hundred distinct sorts. But here are species which +they have not in their catalogue, not to mention the varieties which our +Crab might yield to cultivation. + +Let us enumerate a few of these. I find myself compelled, after all, to +give the Latin names of some for the benefit of those who live where +English is not spoken,--for they are likely to have a world-wide +reputation. + +There is, first of all, the Wood-Apple (_Malus sylvatica_); the Blue-Jay +Apple; the Apple which grows in Dells in the Woods, (_sylvestrivallis,_) +also in Hollows in Pastures (_campestrivallis_); the Apple that grows +in an old Cellar-Hole (_Malus cellaris_); the Meadow-Apple; the +Partridge-Apple; the Truant's Apple, (_Cessaloris,_) which no boy will +ever go by without knocking off some, however _late_ it may be; the +Saunterer's Apple,--you must lose yourself before you can find the way +to that; the Beauty of the Air (_Decus Aëris_); December-Eating; the +Frozen-Thawed, (_gelato-soluta_) good only in that state; the Concord +Apple, possibly the same with the _Musketaquidensis_; the Assabet Apple; +the Brindled Apple; Wine of New England; the Chickaree Apple; the Green +Apple (_Malus viridis_);--this has many synonymes; in an imperfect +state, it is the _Cholera morbifera aut dysenterifera, puerulis +dilectissima;_--the Apple which Atalanta stopped to pick up; the +Hedge-Apple (_Malus Sepium_); the Slug-Apple (_limacea_); the +Railroad-Apple, which perhaps came from a core thrown out of the cars; +the Apple whose Fruit we tasted in our Youth; our Particular Apple, not +to be found in any catalogue,--_Pedestrium Solatium_; also the Apple +where hangs the Forgotten Scythe; Iduna's Apples, and the Apples which +Loki found in the Wood; and a great many more I have on my list, too +numerous to mention,--all of them good. As Bodaeus exclaims, referring +to the cultivated kinds, and adapting Virgil to his case, so I, adapting +Bodaeus,-- + + "Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, + An iron voice, could I describe all the forms + And reckon up all the names of these _wild apples_." + + +THE LAST GLEANING. + + +By the middle of November the wild apples have lost some of their +brilliancy, and have chiefly fallen. A great part are decayed on the +ground, and the sound ones are more palatable than before. The note +of the chickadee sounds now more distinct, as you wander amid the old +trees, and the autumnal dandelion is half-closed and tearful. But still, +if you are a skilful gleaner, you may get many a pocket-full even of +grafted fruit, long after apples are supposed to be gone out-of-doors. I +know a Blue-Pearmain tree, growing within the edge of a swamp, almost as +good as wild. You would not suppose that there was any fruit left there, +on the first survey, but you must look according to system. Those which +lie exposed are quite brown and rotten now, or perchance a few +still show one blooming cheek here and there amid the wet leaves. +Nevertheless, with experienced eyes, I explore amid the bare alders and +the huckleberry-bushes and the withered sedge, and in the crevices +of the rocks, which are full of leaves, and pry under the fallen and +decaying ferns, which, with apple and alder leaves, thickly strew the +ground. For I know that they lie concealed, fallen into hollows long +since and covered up by the leaves of the tree itself,--a proper kind of +packing. From these lurking-places, anywhere within the circumference of +the tree, I draw forth the fruit, all wet and glossy, maybe nibbled by +rabbits and hollowed out by crickets and perhaps with a leaf or two +cemented to it, (as Curzon an old manuscript from a monastery's mouldy +cellar,) but still with a rich bloom on it, and at least as ripe and +well kept, if not better than those in barrels, more crisp and lively +than they. If these resources fail to yield anything, I have learned to +look between the bases of the suckers which spring thickly from some +horizontal limb, for now and then one lodges there, or in the very midst +of an alder-clump, where they are covered by leaves, safe from cows +which may have smelled them out. If I am sharp-set, for I do not refuse +the Blue-Pearmain, I fill my pockets on each side; and as I retrace my +steps in the frosty eve, being perhaps four or five miles from home, I +eat one first from this side, and then from that, to keep my balance. + +I learn from Topsell's Gesner, whose authority appears to be Albertus, +that the following is the way in which the hedgehog collects and carries +home his apples. He says,--"His meat is apples, worms, or grapes: when +he findeth apples or grapes on the earth, he rolleth himself upon them, +until he have filled all his prickles, and then carrieth them home to +his den, never bearing above one in his mouth; and if it fortune that +one of them fall off by the way, he likewise shaketh off all the +residue, and walloweth upon them afresh, until they be all settled upon +his back again. So, forth he goeth, making a noise like a cart-wheel; +and if he have any young ones in his nest, they pull off his load +wherewithal he is loaded, eating thereof what they please, and laying up +the residue for the time to come." + + +THE "FROZEN-THAWED" APPLE. + + +Toward the end of November, though some of the sound ones are yet more +mellow and perhaps more edible, they have generally, like the leaves, +lost their beauty, and are beginning to freeze. It is finger-cold, and +prudent farmers get in their barrelled apples, and bring you the apples +and cider which they have engaged; for it is time to put them into the +cellar. Perhaps a few on the ground show their red cheeks above the +early snow, and occasionally some even preserve their color and +soundness under the snow throughout the winter. But generally at the +beginning of the winter they freeze hard, and soon, though undecayed, +acquire the color of a baked apple. + +Before the end of December, generally, they experience their first +thawing. Those which a month ago were sour, crabbed, and quite +unpalatable to the civilized taste, such at least as were frozen while +sound, let a warmer sun come to thaw them, for they are extremely +sensitive to its rays, are found to be filled with a rich sweet cider, +better than any bottled cider that I know of, and with which I am better +acquainted than with wine. All apples are good in this state, and your +jaws are the cider-press. Others, which have more substance, are a sweet +and luscious food,--in my opinion of more worth than the pine-apples +which are imported from the West Indies. Those which lately even I +tasted only to repent of it,--for I am semi-civilized,--which the farmer +willingly left on the tree, I am now glad to find have the property of +hanging on like the leaves of the young oaks. It is a way to keep cider +sweet without boiling. Let the frost come to freeze them first, solid as +stones, and then the rain or a warm winter day to thaw them, and they +will seem to have borrowed a flavor from heaven through the medium of +the air in which they hang. Or perchance you find, when you get home, +that those which rattled in your pocket have thawed, and the ice is +turned to cider. But after the third or fourth freezing and thawing they +will not be found so good. + +What are the imported half-ripe fruits of the torrid South, to this +fruit matured by the cold of the frigid North? These are those crabbed +apples with which I cheated my companion, and kept a smooth face that +I might tempt him to eat. Now we both greedily fill our pockets +with them,--bending to drink the cup and save our lappets from the +overflowing juice,--and grow more social with their wine. Was there one +that hung so high and sheltered by the tangled branches that our sticks +could not dislodge it? + +It is a fruit never carried to market, that I am aware of,--quite +distinct from the apple of the markets, as from dried apple and +cider,--and it is not every winter that produces it in perfection. + + * * * * * + +The era of the Wild Apple will soon be past. It is a fruit which will +probably become extinct in New England. You may still wander through old +orchards of native fruit of great extent, which for the most part went +to the cider-mill, now all gone to decay. I have heard of an orchard in +a distant town, on the side of a hill, where the apples rolled down and +lay four feet deep against a wall on the lower side, and this the owner +cut down for fear they should be made into cider. Since the temperance +reform and the general introduction of grafted fruit, no native +apple-trees, such as I see everywhere in deserted pastures, and where +the woods have grown up around them, are set out. I fear that he who +walks over these fields a century hence will not know the pleasure of +knocking off wild apples. Ah, poor man, there are many pleasures which +he will not know! Notwithstanding the prevalence of the Baldwin and the +Porter, I doubt if so extensive orchards are set out to-day in my town +as there were a century ago, when those vast straggling cider-orchards +were planted, when men both ate and drank apples, when the pomace-heap +was the only nursery, and trees cost nothing but the trouble of setting +them out. Men could afford then to stick a tree by every wall-side and +let it take its chance. I see nobody planting trees to-day in such +out-of-the-way places, along the lonely roads and lanes, and at the +bottom of dells in the wood. Now that they have grafted trees, and pay a +price for them, they collect them into a plat by their houses, and fence +them in,--and the end of it all will be that we shall be compelled to +look for our apples in a barrel. + +This is the word of the Lord that came to Joel the son of Pethuel. + +"Hear this, ye old men, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land! +Hath this been in your days, or even in the days of your fathers?... + +"That which the palmer-worm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that +which the locust hath left hath the canker-worm eaten; and that which +the canker-worm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. + +"Awake, ye drunkards, and weep! and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, +because of the new wine! for it is cut off from your mouth. + +"For a nation is come up upon my land, strong, and without number, whose +teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek-teeth of a great +lion. + +"He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree; he hath made it +clean bare, and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.... + +"Be ye ashamed, O ye husbandmen! howl, O ye vine-dressers!... + +"The vine is dried up, and the fig-tree languisheth; the +pomegranate-tree, the palm-tree also, and the apple-tree, even all the +trees of the field, are withered: because joy is withered away from the +sons of men." + + * * * * * + + +LIFE IN THE OPEN AIR. + +BY THE AUTHOR OF "CECIL DREEME" AND "JOHN BRENT." + +KATAHDIN AND THE PENOBSCOT. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MOOSEHEAD. + + +Moosehead Lake is a little bigger than the Lago di Guarda, and +therefore, according to our American standard, rather more important. It +is not very grand, not very picturesque, but considerably better than +no lake,--a meritorious mean; not pretty and shadowy, like a thousand +lakelets all over the land, nor tame, broad, and sham-oceanic, like the +tanks of Niagara. On the west, near its southern end, is a well-intended +blackness and roughness called Squaw Mountain. The rest on that side is +undistinguished pine woods. + +Mount Kinneo is midway up the lake, on the east. It is the show-piece of +the region,--the best they can do for a precipice, and really admirably +done. Kinneo is a solid mass of purple flint rising seven hundred feet +upright from the water. By the side of this block could some Archimedes +appear, armed with a suitable "_pou stô_" and a mallet heavy enough, +he might strike fire to the world. Since percussion-guns and friction +cigar-lighters came in, flint has somewhat lost its value; and Kinneo +is of no practical use at present. We cannot allow inutilities in this +world. Where is the Archimedes? He could make a handsome thing of it by +flashing us off with a spark into a new system of things. + +Below this dangerous cliff on the lake-bank is the Kinneo House, where +fishermen and sportsmen may dwell, and kill or catch, as skill or +fortune favors. The historical success of all catchers and killers is +well balanced, since men who cannot master facts are always men of +imagination, and it is as easy for them to invent as for the other class +to do. Boston men haunt Kinneo. For a hero who has not skill enough or +imagination enough to kill a moose stands rather in Nowhere with Boston +fashion. The tameness of that pleasant little capital makes its belles +ardent for tales of wild adventure. New-York women are less exacting; a +few of them, indeed, like a dash of the adventurous in their lover; but +most of them are business-women, fighting their way out of vulgarity +into style, and romance is an interruption. + +Kinneo was an old station of Iglesias's, in those days when he was +probing New England for the picturesque. When the steamer landed, he +acted as cicerone, and pointed out to me the main object of +interest thereabouts, the dinner-table. We dined with lumbermen and +moose-hunters, scufflingly. + +The moose is the lion of these regions. Near Greenville, a gigantic pair +of moose-horns marks a fork in the road. Thenceforth moose-facts and +moose-legends become the staple of conversation. Moose-meat, combining +the flavor of beefsteak and the white of turtle, appears on the table. +Moose-horns with full explanations, so that the buyer can play the part +of hunter, are for sale. Tame mooselings are exhibited. Sportsmen at +Kinneo can choose a _matinée_ with the trout or a _soirée_ with the +moose. + +The chief fact of a moose's person is that pair of strange excrescences, +his horns. Like fronds of tree-fern, like great corals or sea-fans, +these great palmated plates of bone lift themselves from his head, +grand, useless, clumsy. A pair of moose-horns overlooks me as I write; +they weigh twenty pounds, are nearly five feet in spread, on the right +horn are nine developed and two undeveloped antlers, the plates are +sixteen inches broad,--a doughty head-piece. + +Every year the great, slow-witted animal must renew his head-gear. He +must lose the deformity, his pride, and cultivate another. In spring, +when the first anemone trembles to the vernal breeze, the moose nods +welcome to the wind, and as he nods feels something rattle on his skull. +He nods again, as Homer sometimes did. Lo! something drops. A horn has +dropped, and he stands a bewildered unicorn. For a few days he steers +wild; in this ill-balanced course his lone horn strikes every tree +on this side as he dodges from that side. The unhappy creature is +staggered, body and mind. In what Jericho of the forest can he hide his +diminished head? He flies frantic. He runs amuck through the woods. Days +pass by in gloom, and then comes despair; another horn falls, and he +becomes defenceless; and not till autumn does his brow bear again its +full honors. + +I make no apology for giving a few lines to the great event of a moose's +life. He is the hero of those evergreen-woods,--a hero too little +recognized, except by stealthy assassins, meeting him by midnight for +massacre. No one seems to have viewed him in his dramatic character, as +a forest-monarch enacting every year the tragi-comedy of decoronation +and recoronation. + +The Kinneo House is head-quarters for moose-hunters. This summer the +waters of Maine were diluvial, the feeding-grounds were swamped. Of this +we took little note: we were in chase of something certain not to +be drowned; and the higher the deluge, the easier we could float to +Katahdin. After dinner we took the steamboat again for the upper end of +the lake. + +It was a day of days for sunny summer sailing. Purple haziness curtained +the dark front of Kinneo,--a delicate haze purpled by this black +promontory, but melting blue like a cloud-fall of cloudless sky upon +loftier distant summits. The lake rippled pleasantly, flashing at every +ripple. + +Suddenly, "Katahdin!" said Iglesias. + +Yes, there was a dim point, the object of our pilgrimage. + +Katahdin,--the more I saw of it, the more grateful I was to the three +powers who enabled me to see it: to Nature for building it, to Iglesias +for guiding me to it, to myself for going. + +We sat upon the deck and let Katahdin grow,--and sitting, talked of +mountains, somewhat to this effect:-- + +Mountains are the best things to be seen. Within the keen outline of a +great peak is packed more of distance, of detail, of light and shade, of +color, of all the qualities of space, than vision can get in any other +way. No one who has not seen mountains knows how far the eye can reach. +Level horizons are within cannon-shot. Mountain horizons not only may be +a hundred miles away, but they lift up a hundred miles at length, to be +seen at a look. Mountains make a background against which blue sky +can be seen; between them and the eye are so many miles of visible +atmosphere, domesticated, brought down to the regions of earth, not +resting overhead, a vagueness and a void. Air, blue in full daylight, +rose and violet at sunset, gray like powdered starlight by night, is +collected and isolated by a mountain, so that the eye can comprehend it +in nearer acquaintance. There is nothing so refined as the outline of +a distant mountain: even a rose-leaf is stiff-edged and harsh in +comparison. Nothing else has that definite indefiniteness, that melting +permanence, that evanescing changelessness. Clouds in vain strive to +imitate it; they are made of slighter stuff; they can be blunt or +ragged, but they cannot have that solid positiveness. + +Mountains, too, are very stationary,--always at their post. They are +characters of dignity, not without noble changes of mood; but these +changes are not bewildering, capricious shifts. A mountain can be +studied like a picture; its majesty, its grace can be got by heart. +Purple precipice, blue pyramid, cone or dome of snow, it is a simple +image and a positive thought. It is a delicate fact, first, of +beauty,--then, as you approach, a strong fact of majesty and power. +But even in its cloudy, distant fairness there is a concise, emphatic +reality altogether uncloudlike. + +Manly men need the wilderness and the mountain. Katahdin is the best +mountain in the wildest wild to be had on this side the continent. He +looked at us encouragingly over the hills. I saw that he was all that +Iglesias, connoisseur of mountains, had promised, and was content to +wait for the day of meeting. + +The steamboat dumped us and our canoe on a wharf at the lake-head about +four o'clock. A wharf promised a settlement, which, however, did not +exist. There was population,--one man and one great ox. Following the +inland-pointing nose of the ox, we saw, penetrating the forest, a wooden +railroad. Ox-locomotive, and no other, befitted such rails. The train +was one great go-cart. We packed our traps upon it, roofed them with our +birch, and, without much ceremony of whistling, moved on. As we started, +so did the steamboat. The link between us and the inhabited world grew +more and more attenuated. Finally it snapped, and we were in the actual +wilderness. + +I am sorry to chronicle that Iglesias hereupon turned to the ox and said +impatiently,-- + +"Now, then, bullgine!" + +Why a railroad, even a wooden one, here? For this: the Penobscot at this +point approaches within two and a half miles of Moosehead Lake, and over +this portage supplies are taken conveniently for the lumbermen of an +extensive lumbering country above, along the river. + +Corduroy railroad, ox-locomotive, and go-cart train up in the pine woods +were a novelty and a privilege. Our cloven-hoofed engine did not whirr +turbulently along, like a thing of wheels. Slow and sure must the +knock-kneed chewer of cuds step from log to log. Creakingly the wain +followed him, pausing and starting and pausing again with groans of +inertia. A very fat ox was this, protesting every moment against his +employment, where speed, his duty, and sloth, his nature, kept him +bewildered by their rival injunctions. Whenever the engine-driver +stopped to pick a huckleberry, the train, self-braking, stopped also, +and the engine took in fuel from the tall grass that grew between the +sleepers. It was the sensation of sloth at its uttermost. + +Iglesias and I, meanwhile, marched along and shot the game of the +country, namely, one _Tetrao Canadensis_, one spruce-partridge, making +in all one bird, quite too pretty to shoot with its red and black +plumage. The spruce-partridge is rather rare in inhabited Maine, and +is malignantly accused of being bitter in flesh, and of feeding on +spruce-buds to make itself distasteful. Our bird we found sweetly +berry-fed. The bitterness, if any, was that we had not a brace. + +So, at last, in an hour, after shooting one bird and swallowing six +million berries, for the railroad was a shaft into a mine of them, we +came to the terminus. The chewer of cuds was disconnected, and plodded +off to his stable. The go-cart slid down an inclined plane to the river, +the Penobscot. + +We paid quite freely for our brief monopoly of the railroad to the +superintendent, engineer, stoker, poker, switch-tender, brakeman, +baggage-master, and every other official in one. But who would grudge +his tribute to the enterprise that opened this narrow vista through +toward the Hyperboreans, and planted these once not crumbling sleepers +and once not rickety rails, to save the passenger a portage? Here, +at Bullgineville, the pluralist railroad-manager had his cabin and +clearing, ox-engine house and warehouse. + +To balance these symbols of advance, we found a station of the +rear-guard of another army. An Indian party of two was encamped on the +bank. The fusty sagamore of this pair was lying wounded; his fusty squaw +tended him tenderly, minding, meanwhile, a very witch-like caldron +of savory fume. No skirmish, with actual war-whoop and sheen of real +scalping-knife, had put this prostrate chieftain here _hors du combat_. +He had shot himself cruelly by accident. So he informed us feebly, in a +muddy, guttural _patois_ of Canadian French. This aboriginal meeting was +of great value; it helped to eliminate the railroad. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +PENOBSCOT. + + +It was now five o'clock of an August evening. Our work-day was properly +done. But we were to camp somewhere, "anywhere out of the world" of +railroads. The Penobscot glimmered winningly. Our birch looked wistful +for its own element. Why not marry shallop to stream? Why not yield +to the enticement of this current, fleet and clear, and gain a few +beautiful miles before nightfall? All the world was before us where to +choose our bivouac. We dismounted our birch from the truck, and laid its +lightness upon the stream. Then we became stevedores, stowing cargo. +Sheets of birch-bark served for dunnage. Cancut, in flamboyant shirt, +ballasted the after-part of the craft. For the present, I, in flamboyant +shirt, paddled in the bow, while Iglesias, similarly glowing, sat _à +la Turque_ midships among the traps. Then, with a longing sniff at the +caldron of Soggysampcook, we launched upon the Penobscot. + +Upon no sweeter stream was voyager ever launched than this of our +summer-evening sail. There was no worse haste in its more speed; it +went fleetly lingering along its leafy dell. Its current, unripplingly +smooth, but dimpled ever, and wrinkled with the whirls that mark an +underflow deep and shady, bore on our bark. The banks were low and +gently wooded. No Northern forest, rude and gloomy with pines, stood +stiffly and unsympathizingly watching the graceful water, but cheerful +groves and delicate coppices opened in vistas where level sunlight +streamed, and barred the river with light, between belts of lightsome +shadow. We felt no breeze, but knew of one, keeping pace with us, by a +tremor in the birches as it shook them. On we drifted, mile after mile, +languidly over sweet calms. One would seize his paddle, and make our +canoe quiver for a few spasmodic moments. But it seemed needless and +impertinent to toil, when noiselessly and without any show of energy the +water was bearing us on, over rich reflections of illumined cloud and +blue sky, and shadows of feathery birches, bearing us on so quietly that +our passage did not shatter any fair image, but only drew it out upon +the tremors of the water. + +So, placid and beautiful as an interview of first love, went on our +first meeting with this Northern river. But water, the feminine element, +is so mobile and impressible that it must protect itself by much that +seems caprice and fickleness. We might be sure that the Penobscot would +not always flow so gently, nor all the way from forests to the sea +conduct our bark without one shiver of panic, where rapids broke noisy +and foaming over rocks that showed their grinding teeth at us. + +Sunset now streamed after us down the river. The arbor-vitae along the +banks marked tracery more delicate than any ever wrought by deftest +craftsman in western window of an antique fane. Brighter and richer than +any tints that ever poured through painted oriel flowed the glories of +sunset. Dear, pensive glooms of nightfall drooped from the zenith slowly +down, narrowing twilight to a belt of dying flame. We were aware of the +ever fresh surprise of starlight: the young stars were born again. + +Sweet is the charm of starlit sailing where no danger is. And in days +when the Munki Mannakens were foes of the pale-face, one might dash down +rapids by night in the hurry of escape. Now the danger was before, not +pursuing. We must camp before we were hurried into the first "rips" +of the stream, and before night made bush-ranging and camp-duties +difficult. + +But these beautiful thickets of birch and alder along the bank, how to +get through them? We must spy out an entrance. Spots lovely and damp, +circles of ferny grass beneath elms offered themselves. At last, as to +patience always, appeared the place of wisest choice. A little stream, +the Ragmuff, entered the Penobscot. "Why Ragmuff?" thought we, insulted. +Just below its mouth two spruces were _propylaea_ to a little glade, our +very spot. We landed. Some hunters had once been there. A skeleton lodge +and frame of poles for drying moose-hides remained. + +Like skilful campaigners, we at once distributed ourselves over our +work. Cancut wielded the axe; I the match-box; Iglesias the _batterie de +cuisine_. Ragmuff drifted one troutling and sundry chubby chub down +to nip our hooks. We re-roofed our camp with its old covering of +hemlock-bark, spreading over a light tent-cover we had provided. The +last glow of twilight dulled away; monitory mists hid the stars. + +Iglesias, as _chef_, with his two _marmitons_, had, meanwhile, been +preparing supper. It was dark when he, the colorist, saw that fire with +delicate touches of its fine brushes had painted all our viands to +perfection. Then, with the same fire stirred to illumination, and +dashing masterly glows upon landscape and figures, the trio partook of +the supper and named it sublime. + +Here follows the _carte_ of the Restaurant Ragmuff,--woodland fare, a +banquet simple, but elegant:-- + + POISSON. + + Truite. Meunier. + + ENTRÉES. + + Porc frit au naturel. + Côtelettes d'Élan. + + RÔTI. + + Tetrao Canadensis + + DESSERT + + Hard-Tack. Fromage. + + VINS. + + Ragmuff blanc. Penobscot mousseux. + Thé. Chocolat de Bogotá. + Petit verre de Cognac. + +At that time I had a temporary quarrel with the frantic nineteenth +century's best friend, tobacco,--and Iglesias, being totally at peace +with himself and the world, never needs anodynes. Cancut, therefore, was +the only cloud-blower. + +We two solaced ourselves with scorning civilization from our +vantage-ground. We were beyond fences, away from the clash of +town-clocks, the clink of town-dollars, the hiss of town-scandals. As +soon as one is fairly in camp and has begun to eat with his fingers, +he is free. He and truth are at the bottom of a well,--a hollow, +fire-lighted cylinder of forest. While the manly man of the woods is +breathing Nature like an Amreeta draught, is it anything less than the +_summum bonum_? + +"Yet some call American life dull." + +"Ay, to dullards!" ejaculated Iglesias. + +Moose were said to haunt these regions. Toward midnight our would-be +moose-hunter paddled about up and down, seeking them and finding not. +The waters were too high. Lily-pads were drowned. There were no moose +looming duskily in the shallows, to be done to death at their banquet. +They were up in the pathless woods, browsing on leaves and deappetizing +with bitter bark. Starlight paddling over reflected stars was +enchanting, but somniferous. We gave up our vain quest and glided softly +home,--already we called it home,--toward the faint embers of our fire. +Then all slept, as only wood-men sleep, save when for moments Cancut's +trumpet-tones sounded alarums, and we others awoke to punch and batter +the snorer into silence. + +In due time, bird and cricket whistled and chirped the reveille. We +sprang from our lair. We dipped in the river and let its gentle friction +polish us more luxuriously than ever did any hair-gloved polisher of +an Oriental bath. Our joints crackled for themselves as we beat the +current. From bath like this comes no unmanly kief, no sensuous, +slumberous, dreamy indifference, but a nervous, intent, keen, joyous +activity. A day of deeds is before us, and we would be doing. + +When we issue from the Penobscot, from our baptism into a new life, we +need no valet for elaborate toilet. Attire is simple, when the woods are +the tiring-room. + +When we had taken off the water and put on our clothes, we +simultaneously thought of breakfast. Like a circle of wolves around the +bones of a banquet, the embers of our fire were watching each other over +the ashes; we had but to knock their heads together and fiery fighting +began. The skirmish of the brands boiled our coffee and fried our pork, +and we embarked and shoved off. A thin blue smoke, floating upward, for +an hour or two, marked our bivouac; soon this had gone out, and the +banks and braes of Ragmuff were lonely as if never a biped had trodden +them. Nature drops back to solitude as easily as man to peace;--how +little this fair globe would miss mankind! + +The Penobscot was all asteam with morning mist. It was blinding the sun +with a matinal oblation of incense. A crew of the profane should not +interfere with such act of worship. Sacrilege is perilous, whoever be +the God. We were instantly punished for irreverence. The first "rips" +came up-stream under cover of the mist, and took us by surprise. As we +were paddling along gently, we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of +a boiling rapid. Gnashing rocks, with cruel foam upon their lips, sprang +out of the obscure, eager to tear us. Great jaws of ugly blackness +snapped about us as if we were introduced into a coterie of crocodiles. +Symplegades clanged together behind; mighty gulfs, below seducing bends +of smooth water, awaited us before. We were in for it. We spun, whizzed, +dashed, leaped, "cavorted;" we did whatever a birch running the gantlet +of whirlpools and breakers may do, except the fatal finality of a +somerset. That we escaped, and only escaped. We had been only reckless, +not audacious; and therefore peril, not punishment, befell us. The rocks +smote our frail shallop; they did not crush it. Foam and spray dashed in +our faces; solid fluid below the crest did not overwhelm us. There we +were, presently, in water tumultuous, but not frantic. There we were, +three men floating in a birch, not floundering in a maelstrom,--on the +water, not under it,--sprinkled, not drowned,--and in a wild wonder how +we got into it and how we got out of it. + +Cancut's paddle guided us through. Unwieldy he may have been in person, +but he could wield his weapon well. And so, by luck and skill, we were +not drowned in the magnificent uproar of the rapid. Success, that +strange stirabout of Providence, accident, and courage, were ours. But +when we came to the next cascading bit, though the mist had now lifted, +we lightened the canoe by two men's avoir-dupois, that it might dance, +and not blunder heavily, might seek the safe shallows, away from the +dangerous bursts of mid-current, and choose passages where Cancut, with +the setting-pole, could let it gently down. So Iglesias and I plunged +through the labyrinthine woods, the stream along. + +Not long after our little episode of buffeting, we shot out again upon +smooth water, and soon, for it is never smooth but it is smoothest, upon +a lake, Chesuncook. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CHESUNCOOK. + + +Chesuncook is a "bulge" of the Penobscot: so much for its topography. It +is deep in the woods, except that some miles from its opening there is +a lumbering-station, with house and barns. In the wilderness, man makes +for man by a necessity of human instinct. We made for the log-houses. +We found there an ex-barkeeper of a certain well-known New-York cockney +coffee-house, promoted into a frontiersman, but mindful still of +flesh-pots. Poor fellow, he was still prouder that he had once tossed +the foaming cocktail than that he could now fell the forest-monarch. +Mixed drinks were dearer to him than pure air. When we entered the long, +low log-cabin, he was boiling doughnuts, as was to be expected. In +certain regions of America every cook who is not baking pork and beans +is boiling doughnuts, just as in certain other gastronomic quarters +_frijoles_ alternate with _tortillas_. + +Doughnuts, like peaches, must be eaten with the dew upon them. Caught as +they come bobbing up in the bubbling pot, I will not say that they are +despicable. Woodsmen and canoemen, competent to pork and beans, can +master also the alternative. The ex-barkeeper was generous with these +brown and glistening langrage-shot, and aimed volley after volley at our +mouths. Nor was he content with giving us our personal fill; into every +crevice of our firkin he packed a pellet of future indigestion. Besides +this result of foraging, we took the hint from a visible cow that milk +might be had. Of this also the ex-barkeeper served us out galore, +sighing that it was not the punch of his metropolitan days. We put our +milk in our tea-pot, and thus, with all the ravages of the past made +good, we launched again upon Chesuncook. + +Chesuncook, according to its quality of lake, had no aid to give us with +current. Paddling all a hot August mid-day over slothful water would +be tame, day-laborer's work. But there was a breeze. Good! Come, kind +Zephyr, fill our red blanket-sail! Cancut's blanket in the bow became a +substitute for Cancut's paddle in the stern. We swept along before the +wind, unsteadily, over Lake Chesuncook, at sea in a bowl,--"rolled to +starboard, rolled to larboard," in our keelless craft. Zephyr only +followed us, mild as he was strong, and strong as he was mild. Had he +been puffy, it would have been all over with us. But the breeze only +sang about our way, and shook the water out of sunny calm. Katahdin to +the North, a fair blue pyramid, lifted higher and stooped forward +more imminent, yet still so many leagues away that his features were +undefined, and the gray of his scalp undistinguishable from the green of +his beard of forest. Every mile, however, as we slid drowsily over the +hot lake, proved more and more that we were not befooled,--Iglesias by +memory, and I by anticipation. Katahdin lost nothing by approach, as +some of the grandees do: as it grew bigger, it grew better. + +Twenty miles, or so, of Chesuncook, of sun-cooked Chesuncook, we +traversed by the aid of our blanket-sail, pleasantly wafted by the +unboisterous breeze. Undrowned, unducked, as safe from the perils of the +broad lake as we had come out of the defiles of the rapids, we landed at +the carry below the dam at the lake's outlet. + +The skin of many a slaughtered varmint was nailed on its shingle, and +the landing-place was carpeted with the fur. Doughnuts, ex-barkeepers, +and civilization at one end of the lake, and here were muskrat-skins, +trappers, and the primeval. Two hunters of moose, in default of their +fern-horned, blubber-lipped game, had condescended to muskrat, and were +making the lower end of Chesuncook fragrant with muskiness. + +It is surprising how hospitable and comrade a creature is man. The +trappers of muskrats were charmingly brotherly. They guided us across +the carry; they would not hear of our being porters. "Pluck the +superabundant huckleberry," said they, "while we, suspending your firkin +and your traps upon the setting-pole, tote them, as the spies of Joshua +toted the grape-clusters of the Promised Land." + +Cancut, for his share, carried the canoe. He wore it upon his head and +shoulders. Tough work he found it, toiling through the underwood, and +poking his way like an elongated and mobile mushroom through the thick +shrubbery. Ever and anon, as Iglesias and I paused, we would be aware of +the canoe thrusting itself above our heads in the covert, and a voice +would come from an unseen head under its shell,--"It's soul-breaking, +carrying is!" + +The portage was short. We emerged from the birchen grove upon the river, +below a brilliant cascading rapid. The water came flashing gloriously +forward, a far other element than the tame, flat stuff we had drifted +slowly over all the dullish hours. Water on the go is nobler than water +on the stand; recklessness may be as fatal as stagnation, but it is more +heroic. + +Presently, over the edge, where the foam and spray were springing up +into sunshine, our canoe suddenly appeared, and had hardly appeared, +when, as if by one leap, it had passed the rapid, and was gliding in the +stiller current at our feet. One of the muskrateers had relieved Cancut +of his head-piece, and shot the lower rush of water. We again embarked, +and, guided by the trappers in their own canoe, paddled out upon Lake +Pepogenus. + + + + +LOUIS LEBEAU'S CONVERSION. + + + Yesterday, while I moved with the languid crowd on the Riva, + Musing with idle eyes on the wide lagoons and the islands, + And on the dim-seen seaward glimmering sails in the distance, + Where the azure haze, like a vision of Indian-Summer, + Haunted the dreamy sky of the soft Venetian December,-- + While I moved unwilled in the mellow warmth of the weather, + Breathing air that was full of Old-World sadness and beauty, + Into my thought came this story of free, wild life in Ohio, + When the land was new, and yet by the Beautiful River + Dwelt the pioneers and Indian hunters and boatmen. + + Pealed from the campanile, responding from island to island, + Bells of that ancient faith whose incense and solemn devotions + Rise from a hundred shrines in the broken heart of the city; + But in my reverie heard I only the passionate voices + Of the people that sang in the virgin heart of the forest. + Autumn was in the land, and the trees were golden and crimson, + And from the luminous boughs of the over-elms and the maples + Tender and beautiful fell the light in the worshippers' faces, + Softer than lights that stream through the saints on the windows of + churches, + While the balsamy breath of the hemlocks and pines by the river + Stole on the winds through the woodland aisles like the breath of a + censer. + Loud the people sang old camp-meeting anthems that quaver + Quaintly yet from lips forgetful of lips that have kissed them: + Loud they sang the songs of the Sacrifice and Atonement, + And of the end of the world, and the infinite terrors of Judgment; + Songs of ineffable sorrow, and wailing compassionate warning + For the generations that hardened their hearts to their Saviour; + Songs of exultant rapture for them that confessed Him and followed, + Bearing His burden and yoke, enduring and entering with Him + Into the rest of His saints, and the endless reward of the blessed. + Loud the people sang: but through the sound of their singing + Brake inarticulate cries and moans and sobs from the mourners, + As the glory of God, that smote the apostle of Tarsus, + Smote them and strewed them to earth like leaves in the breath of the + whirlwind. + + Hushed at last was the sound of the lamentation and singing; + But from the distant hill the throbbing drum of the pheasant + Shook with its heavy pulses the depths of the listening silence, + When from his place arose a white-haired exhorter and faltered: + "Brethren and sisters in Jesus! the Lord hath heard our petitions, + And the hearts of His servants are awed and melted within them,-- + Even the hearts of the wicked are touched by His infinite mercy. + All my days in this vale of tears the Lord hath been with me, + He hath been good to me, He hath granted me trials and patience; + But this hour hath crowned my knowledge of Him and His goodness. + Truly, but that it is well this day for me to be with you, + Now might I say to the Lord,--'I know Thee, my God, in all fulness; + Now let Thy servant depart in peace to the rest Thou hast promised!'" + + Faltered and ceased. And now the wild and jubilant music + Of the singing burst from the solemn profound of the silence, + Surged in triumph and fell, and ebbed again into silence. + + Then from the group of the preachers arose the greatest among them,-- + He whose days were given in youth to the praise of the Saviour,-- + He whose lips seemed touched like the prophet's of old from the altar, + So that his words were flame, and burned to the hearts of his hearers, + Quickening the dead among them, reviving the cold and the doubting. + There he charged them pray, and rest not from prayer while a sinner + In the sound of their voices denied the Friend of the sinner: + "Pray till the night shall fall,--till the stars are faint in the + morning,-- + Yea, till the sun himself be faint in that glory and brightness, + In that light which shall dawn in mercy for penitent sinners." + Kneeling, he led them in prayer, and the quick and sobbing responses + Spake how their souls were moved with the might and the grace of the + Spirit. + Then while the converts recounted how God had chastened and saved + them,-- + Children whose golden locks yet shone with the lingering effulgence + Of the touches of Him who blessed little children forever,-- + Old men whose yearning eyes were dimmed with the far-streaming + brightness + Seen through the opening gates in the heart of the heavenly city,-- + Stealthily through the harking woods the lengthening shadows + Chased the wild things to their nests, and the twilight died into + darkness. + + Now the four great pyres that were placed there to light the encampment, + High on platforms raised above the people, were kindled. + Flaming aloof, as if from the pillar by night in the Desert, + Fell their crimson light on the lifted orbs of the preachers, + On the withered brows of the old men, and Israel's mothers, + On the bloom of youth, and the earnest devotion of manhood, + On the anguish and hope in the tearful eyes of the mourners. + Flaming aloof, it stirred the sleep of the luminous maples + With warm summer-dreams, and faint, luxurious languor. + Near the four great pyres the people closed in a circle, + In their midst the mourners, and, praying with them, the exhorters, + And on the skirts of the circle the unrepentant and scorners,-- + Ever fewer and sadder, and drawn to the place of the mourners, + One after one, by the prayers and tears of the brethren and sisters, + And by the Spirit of God, that was mightily striving within them, + Till at the last alone stood Louis Lebeau, unconverted. + + Louis Lebeau, the boatman, the trapper, the hunter, the fighter, + From the unlucky French of Gallipolis he descended, + Heir to Old-World want and New-World love of adventure. + Vague was the life he led, and vague and grotesque were the rumors + Wherethrough he loomed on the people, the hero of mythical hearsay,-- + Quick of hand and of heart, _insouciant_, generous, Western,-- + Taking the thought of the young in secret love and in envy. + Not less the elders shook their heads and held him for outcast, + Reprobate, roving, ungodly, infidel, worse than a Papist, + With his whispered fame of lawless exploits at St. Louis, + Wild affrays and loves with the half-breeds out on the Osage, + Brawls at New-Orleans, and all the towns on the rivers, + All the godless towns of the many-ruffianed rivers. + Only she that loved him the best of all, in her loving, + Knew him the best of all, and other than that of the rumors. + Daily she prayed for him, with conscious and tender effusion, + That the Lord would convert him. But when her father forbade him + Unto her thought, she denied him, and likewise held him for outcast, + Turned her eyes when they met, and would not speak, though her heart + broke. + + Bitter and brief his logic that reasoned from wrong unto error: + "This is their praying and singing," he said, "that makes you reject + me,-- + You that were kind to me once. But I think my fathers' religion, + With a light heart in the breast, and a friendly priest to absolve one, + Better than all these conversions that only bewilder and vex me, + And that have made man so hard and woman fickle and cruel. + Well, then, pray for my soul, since you would not have spoken to save + me,-- + Yes,--for I go from these saints to my brethren and sisters, the + sinners." + Spake and went, while her faint lips fashioned unuttered entreaties,-- + Went, and came again in a year at the time of the meeting, + Haggard and wan of face, and wasted with passion and sorrow. + Dead in his eyes was the careless smile of old, and its phantom + Haunted his lips in a sneer of restless incredulous mocking. + Day by day he came to the outer skirts of the circle, + Dwelling on her, where she knelt by the white-haired exhorter, her + father, + With his hollow looks, and never moved from his silence. + + Now, where he stood alone, the last of impenitent sinners, + Weeping, old friends and comrades came to him out of the circle, + And with their tears besought him to hear what the Lord had done for + them. + Ever he shook them off, not roughly, nor smiled at their transports. + Then the preachers spake and painted the terrors of Judgment, + And of the bottomless pit, and the flames of hell everlasting. + Still and dark he stood, and neither listened nor heeded: + But when the fervent voice of the while-haired exhorter was lifted, + Fell his brows in a scowl of fierce and scornful rejection. + "Lord, let this soul be saved!" cried the fervent voice of the old man; + "For that the shepherd rejoiceth more truly for one that hath wandered, + And hath been found again, than for all the others that strayed not." + + Out of the midst of the people, a woman old and decrepit, + Tremulous through the light, and tremulous into the shadow, + Wavered toward him with slow, uncertain paces of palsy, + Laid her quivering hand on his arm and brokenly prayed him: + "Louis Lebeau, I closed in death the eyes of your mother. + On my breast she died, in prayer for her fatherless children, + That they might know the Lord, and follow Him always, and serve Him. + Oh, I conjure you, my son, by the name of your mother in glory, + Scorn not the grace of the Lord!" As when a summer-noon's tempest + Breaks in one swift gush of rain, then ceases and gathers + Darker and gloomier yet on the lowering front of the heavens, + So brake his mood in tears, as he soothed her, and stilled her + entreaties, + And so he turned again with his clouded looks to the people. + + Vibrated then from the hush the accents of mournfullest pity,-- + His who was gifted in speech, and the glow of the fires illumined + All his pallid aspect with sudden and marvellous splendor: + "Louis Lebeau," he spake, "I have known you and loved you from + childhood; + Still, when the others blamed you, I took your part, for I knew you. + Louis Lebeau, my brother, I thought to meet you in heaven, + Hand in hand with her who is gone to heaven before us, + Brothers through her dear love! I trusted to greet you and lead you + Up from the brink of the River unto the gates of the City. + Lo! my years shall be few on the earth. Oh, my brother, + If I should die before you had known the mercy of Jesus, + Yea, I think it would sadden the hope of glory within me!" + + Neither yet had the will of the sinner yielded an answer; + But from his lips there broke a cry of unspeakable anguish, + Wild and fierce and shrill, as if some demon within him + Rent his soul with the ultimate pangs of fiendish possession, + And with the outstretched arms of bewildered imploring toward them, + Death-white unto the people he turned his face from the darkness. + + Out of the sedge by the creek a flight of clamorous killdees + Rose from their timorous sleep with piercing and iterant challenge, + Wheeled in the starlight and fled away into distance and silence. + White on the other hand lay the tents, and beyond them glided the river, + Where the broadhorn[A] drifted slow at the will of the current, + And where the boatman listened, and knew not how, as he listened, + Something touched through the years the old lost hopes of his + childhood,-- + Only his sense was filled with low monotonous murmurs, + As of a faint-heard prayer, that was chorused with deeper responses. + + [Footnote A: The old-fashioned flat-boats were so called.] + + Not with the rest was lifted her voice in the fervent responses, + But in her soul she prayed to Him that heareth in secret, + Asking for light and for strength to learn His will and to do it: + "Oh, make me clear to know, if the hope that rises within me + Be not part of a love unmeet for me here, and forbidden! + So, if it be not that, make me strong for the evil entreaty + Of the days that shall bring me question of self and reproaches, + When the unrighteous shall mock, and my brethren and sisters shall + doubt me! + Make me worthy to know Thy will, my Saviour, and do it!" + In her pain she prayed, and at last, through her mute adoration, + Rapt from all mortal presence, and in her rapture uplifted, + Glorified she rose, and stood in the midst of the people, + Looking on all with the still, unseeing eyes of devotion, + Vague, and tender, and sweet, as the eyes of the dead, when we dream + them + Living and looking on us, but they cannot speak, and we cannot: + Knowing only the peril that threatened his soul's unrepentance, + Knowing only the fear and error and wrong that withheld him, + Thinking, "In doubt of me, his soul had perished forever!" + Touched with no feeble shame, but trusting her power to save him, + Through the circle she passed, and straight to the side of her lover,-- + Took his hand in her own, and mutely implored him an instant, + Answering, giving, forgiving, confessing, beseeching him all things,-- + Drew him then with her, and passed once more through the circle + Unto her place, and knelt with him there by the side of her father, + Trembling as women tremble who greatly venture and triumph,-- + But in her innocent breast was the saint's sublime exultation. + + So was Louis converted; and though the lips of the scorner + Spared not in after-years the subtle taunt and derision, + (What time, meeker grown, his heart held his hand from its answer,) + Not the less lofty and pure her love and her faith that had saved him, + Not the less now discerned was her inspiration from heaven + By the people, that rose, and embracing, and weeping together, + Poured forth their jubilant songs of victory and of thanksgiving, + Till from the embers leaped the dying flame to behold them, + And the hills of the river were filled with reverberant echoes,-- + Echoes that out of the years and the distance stole to me hither, + While I moved unwilled in the mellow warmth of the weather,-- + Echoes that mingled and fainted and fell with the fluttering murmurs + In the hearts of the hushing bells, as from island to island + Swooned the sound on the wide lagoons into palpitant silence. + + * * * * * + + +THE DEVELOPMENT AND OVERTHROW OF THE RUSSIAN SERF-SYSTEM. + + +Close upon the end of the fifteenth century, the Muscovite ideas +of Right were subjected to the strong mind of Ivan the Great, and +compressed into a code. + +Therein were embodied the best processes known to his land and time: for +discovering crime, torture and trial by battle; for punishing crime, the +knout and death. + +But hidden in this tough mass was one law of greater import than all +others. Thereby were all peasants forbidden to leave the lands they +were then tilling, except during the eight days before and after Saint +George's day. This provision sprang from Ivan's highest views of justice +and broadest views of political economy; the nobles received it with +plaudits, which have found echoes even in these days;[A] the peasants +received it with no murmurs which History has found any trouble in +drowning. + +[Footnote A: See Gerebtzoff, _Histoire de la Civilisation en Russie_.] + +Just one hundred years later, there sat upon the Muscovite throne, as +_nominal_ Tzar, the weakling Feodor I.; but behind the throne stood, as +_real_ Tzar, hard, strong Boris Godounoff. + +Looking forward to Feodor's death, Boris makes ready to mount the +throne; and he sees--what all other "Mayors of the Palace," climbing +into the places of _fainéant_ kings, have seen--that he must link to +his fortunes the fortunes of some strong body in the nation; he breaks, +however, from the general rule among usurpers,--bribing the Church,--and +determines to bribe the nobility. + +The greatest grief of the Muscovite nobles seemed to be that the +peasants could escape from their oppression by the emigration allowed at +Saint George's day. + +Boris saw his opportunity: he cut off the privilege of Saint George's +day; the peasant was fixed to the soil forever. No Russian law ever +_directly_ enslaved the peasantry,[B] but, through this decree of Boris, +the lord who owned the soil came to own the peasants upon it, just as he +owned its immovable boulders and ledges. + +[Footnote B: Haxthausen.] + +To this the peasants submitted, but over this wrong History has not +been able to drown their sighs; their proverbs and ballads make Saint +George's day representative of all ill-luck and disappointment. + +A few years later, Boris made another bid for oligarchic favor. He +issued a rigorous fugitive-serf law, and even wrenched liberty from +certain free peasants who had entered service for wages before his +edicts. This completed the work, and Russia, which never had the +benefits of feudalism, had now fastened upon her feudalism's worst +curse,--a serf-caste bound to the glebe. + +The great waves of wrong which bore serfage into Russia seem to have +moved with a kind of tidal regularity, and the distance between their +crests in those earlier times appears to have been just a hundred +years,--for, again, at the end of the next century, surge over the +nation the ideas of Peter the Great. + +The great good things done by Peter the world knows by heart. The world +knows well how he tore his way out of the fetichism of his time,--how, +despite ignorance and unreason, he dragged his nation after him,--how he +dowered the nation with things and thoughts which transformed it from a +petty Asiatic horde to a great European power. + +And the praise due to this work can never be diminished. Time shall +but increase it; for the world has yet to learn most of the wonderful +details of his activity. We were present a few years since, when one of +those lesser triumphs of his genius was first unfolded. + +It was in that room at the Hermitage--adjoining the Winter Palace--set +apart for the relics of Peter. Our companions were two men noted as +leaders in American industry,--one famed as an inventor, the other famed +as a champion of inventors' rights. + +Suddenly from the inventor,[C] pulling over some old dust-covered +machines in a corner, came loud cries of surprise. The cries were +natural indeed. In that heap of rubbish he had found a lathe for turning +irregular forms, and a screw-cutting engine once used by Peter himself: +specimens of his unfinished work were still in them. They had lain there +unheeded a hundred and fifty years; their principle had died with Peter +and his workmen; and not many years since, they were reinvented in +America, and gave their inventors fame and fortune. At the late Paris +Universal Exposition crowds flocked about an American lathe for copying +statuary; and that lathe was, in principle, identical with this old, +forgotten machine of Peter's. + +[Footnote C: The late Samuel Colt.] + +Yet, though Peter fought so well, and thought so well, he made some +mistakes which hang to this day over his country as bitter curses. For +in all his plan and work to advance the mass of men was one supreme +lack,--lack of any account of the worth and right of the individual man. + +Lesser examples of this are seen in his grim jest at Westminster +Hall,--"What use of so many lawyers? I have but two lawyers in Russia, +and one of those I mean to hang as soon as I return;"--or when, at +Berlin, having been shown a new gibbet, he ordered one of his +servants to be hanged in order to test it;--or, in his reviews and +parade-fights, when he ordered his men to use ball, and to take the +buttons off their bayonets. + +Greater examples are seen in his Battle of Narva, when he threw away an +army to learn his opponent's game,--in his building of St. Petersburg, +where, in draining marshes, he sacrificed a hundred thousand men the +first year. + +But the greatest proof of this great lack was shown in his dealings with +the serf-system. + +Serfage was already recognized in Peter's time as an evil. Peter himself +once stormed forth in protestations and invectives against what he +stigmatized as "selling men like beasts,--separating parents from +children, husbands from wives,--which takes place nowhere else in the +world, and which causes many tears to flow." He declared that a law +should be made against it. Yet it was by his misguided hand that serfage +was compacted into its final black mass of foulness. + +For Peter saw other nations spinning and weaving, and he determined that +Russia should at once spin and weave; he saw other nations forging +iron, and he determined that Russia should at once forge iron. He never +stopped to consider that what might cost little in other lands, as a +natural growth, might cost far too much in Russia, as a forced growth. + +In lack, then, of quick brain and sturdy spine and strong arm of paid +workmen, he forced into his manufactories the flaccid muscle of serfs. +These, thus lifted from the earth, lost even the little force in the +State they before had; great bodies of serfs thus became slaves; worse +than that, the idea of a serf developed toward the idea of a slave.[D] + +[Footnote D: Haxthausen, _Études sur la Situation Intérieure_, etc., _de +la Russie._] + +And Peter, misguided, dealt one blow more. Cold-blooded officials were +set at taking the census. These adopted easy classifications; free +peasants, serfs, and slaves were often huddled into the lists under +a single denomination. So serfage became still more difficult to be +distinguished from slavery.[E] + +[Footnote E: Gurowski,--also Wolowski in _Revue des Deux Mondes_.] + +As this base of hideous wrong was thus widened and deepened, the +nobles built higher and stronger their superstructure of arrogance and +pretension. Not many years after Peter's death, they so over-awed the +Empress Anne that she thrust into the codes of the Empire statutes which +allowed the nobles to sell serfs apart from the soil. So did serfage +bloom _fully_ into slavery. + +But in the latter half of the eighteenth century Russia gained a ruler +from whom the world came to expect much. + +To mount the throne, Catharine II. had murdered her husband; to keep the +throne, she had murdered two claimants whose title was better than +her own. She then became, with her agents in these horrors, a second +Messalina. + +To set herself right in the eyes of Europe, she paid eager court to +that hierarchy of skepticism which in that age made or marred European +reputations. She flattered the fierce Deists by owning fealty to "_Le +Roi Voltaire_;" she flattered the mild Deists by calling in La Harpe +as the tutor of her grandson; she flattered the Atheists by calling in +Diderot as a tutor for herself. + +Her murders and orgies were soon forgotten in the new hopes for Russian +regeneration. Her dealings with Russia strengthened these hopes. The +official style required that all persons presenting petitions should +subscribe themselves "Your Majesty's humble serf." This formula she +abolished, and boasted that she had cast out the word serf from the +Russian language. Poets and philosophers echoed this boast over Europe, +--and the serfs waited. + +The great Empress spurred hope by another movement. She proposed to +an academy the question of serf-emancipation as a subject for their +prize-essay. The essay was written and crowned. It was filled with +beautiful things about liberty, practical things about moderation, +flattering things about "the Great Catharine,"--and the serfs waited. + +Again she aroused hope. It was given out that her most intense delight +came from the sight of happy serfs and prosperous villages. Accordingly, +in her journey to the Crimea, Potemkin squandered millions on millions +in rearing pasteboard villages,--in dragging forth thousands of wretched +peasants to fill them,--in costuming them to look thrifty,--in training +them to look happy. Catharine was rejoiced,--Europe sang paeans,--the +serfs waited.[F] + +[Footnote F: For further growth of the sentimental fashion thus set, see +_Memoirs of the Princess Daschkaw_, Vol. I. p. 383.] + +She seemed to go farther: she issued a decree prohibiting the +enslavement of serfs. But, unfortunately, the palace-intrigues, and the +correspondence with the philosophers, and the destruction of Polish +nationality left her no time to see the edict carried out. But Europe +applauded,--and the serfs waited. + +Two years after this came a deed which put an end to all this +uncertainty. An edict was prepared, ordering the peasants of Little +Russia to remain forever on the estates where the day of publication +should find them. This was vile; but what followed was diabolic. +Court-pets were let into the secret. These, by good promises, enticed +hosts of peasants to their estates. The edict was now sprung;--in an +hour the courtiers were made rich, the peasants were made serfs, and +Catharine II. was made infamous forever. + +So, about a century after Peter, there rolled over Russia a wave of +wrong which not only drowned honor in the nobility, but drowned hope in +the people. + +As Russia entered the nineteenth century, the hearts of earnest men must +have sunk within them. For Paul I., Catharine's son and successor, was +infinitely more despotic than Catharine, and infinitely less restrained +by public opinion. He had been born with savage instincts, and educated +into ferocity. Tyranny was written on his features, in his childhood. If +he remained in Russia, his mother sneered and showed hatred to him; if +he journeyed in Western Europe, crowds gathered about his coach to jeer +at his ugliness. Most of those who have seen Gillray's caricature +of him, issued in the height of English spite at Paul's homage to +Bonaparte, have thought it hideously overdrawn; but those who have seen +the portrait of Paul in the Cadet-Corps at St. Petersburg know well +that Gillray did not exaggerate Paul's ugliness, for he could not. + +And Paul's face was but a mirror of his character. Tyranny was wrought +into his every fibre. He insisted on an Oriental homage. As his carriage +whirled by, it was held the duty of all others in carriages to stop, +descend into the mud, and bow themselves. Himself threw his despotism +into this formula,--"Know, Sir Ambassador, that in Russia there is +no one noble or powerful except the man to whom I speak, and while I +speak." + +And yet, within that hideous mass glowed some sparks of reverence +for right. When the nobles tried to get Paul's assent to more open +arrangements for selling serfs apart from the soil, he utterly refused; +and when they overtasked their human chattels, Paul made a law that no +serf should be required to give more than three days in the week to the +tillage of his master's domain. + +But, within five years after his accession, Paul had developed into such +a ravenous wild-beast that it became necessary to murder him. This duty +done, there came a change in the spirit of Russian sovereignty as from +March to May; but, sadly for humanity, there came, at the same time, a +change in the spirit of European politics as from May to March. + +For, although the new Tzar, Alexander I., was mild and liberal, the +storm of French ideas and armies had generally destroyed in monarchs' +minds any poor germs of philanthropy which had ever found lodgment +there. Still Alexander breasted this storm,--found time to plan for +his serfs, and in 1803 put his hand to the work of helping them toward +freedom. His first edict was for the creation of the class of "free +laborers." By this, masters and serfs were encouraged to enter into +an arrangement which was to put the serf into immediate possession +of himself, of a homestead, and of a few acres,--giving him time to +indemnify his master by a series of payments. Alexander threw his heart +into this scheme; in his kindliness he supposed that the pretended +willingness of the nobles meant something; but the serf-owning caste, +without openly opposing, twisted up bad consequences with good, braided +impossibilities into possibilities: the whole plan became a tangle, and +was thrown aside. + +The Tzar now sought to foster other good efforts, especially those made +by some earnest nobles to free their serfs by will. But this plan, also, +the serf-owning caste entangled and thwarted. + +At last, the storm of war set in with such fury that all internal +reforms must be lost sight of. Russia had to make ready for those +campaigns in which Napoleon gained every battle. Then came that peaceful +meeting on the raft at Tilsit,--worse for Russia than any warlike +meeting; for thereby Napoleon seduced Alexander, for years, from plans +of bettering his Empire into dreams of extending it. + +Coming out of these dreams, Alexander had to deal with such realities +as the burning of Moscow, the Battle of Leipsic, and the occupation of +France; yet, in the midst of those fearful times,--when the grapple of +the Emperors was at the fiercest,--in the very year of the burning of +Moscow,--Alexander rose in calm statesmanship, and admitted Bessarabia +into the Empire under a proviso which excluded serfage forever. + +Hardly was the great European tragedy ended, when Alexander again turned +sorrowfully toward the wronged millions of his Empire. He found that +progress in civilization had but made the condition of the serfs worse. +The newly ennobled _parvenus_ were worse than the old _boyars_; they +hugged the serf-system more lovingly and the serfs more hatefully.[G] + +[Footnote G: For proofs of this see Haxthausen.] + +The sight of these wrongs roused him. He seized a cross, and swore upon +it that the serf-system should be abolished. + +Straightway a great and good plan was prepared. Its main features were, +a period of transition from serfage to personal liberty, extending +through twelve or fourteen years,--the arrival of the serf at personal +freedom, with ownership of his cabin and the bit of land attached to +it,--the gradual reimbursement of masters by serfs,--and after this +advance to _personal_ liberty, an advance by easy steps to a sort of +_political_ liberty. + +Favorable as was this plan to the serf-owners, they attacked it in +various ways; but they could not kill it utterly. Esthonia, Livonia, and +Courland became free. + +Having failed to arrest the growth of freedom, the serf-holding caste +made every effort to blast the good fruits of freedom. In Courland they +were thwarted; in Esthonia and Livonia they succeeded during many years; +but the eternal laws were too strong for them, and the fruitage of +liberty has grown richer and better. + +After these good efforts, Alexander stopped, discouraged. A few +patriotic nobles stood apart from their caste, and strengthened his +hands, as Lafayette and Liancourt strengthened Louis XVI.; they even +drew up a plan of voluntary emancipation, formed an association for the +purpose, gained many signatures; but the great weight of that besotted +serf-owning caste was thrown against them, and all came to nought. +Alexander was at last walled in from the great object of his ambition. +Pretended theologians built, between him and emancipation, walls of +Scriptural interpretation,[H]--pretended philosophers built walls of +false political economy,--pretended statesmen built walls of sham +common-sense. + +[Footnote H: Gurowski says that they used brilliantly "Cursed be +Canaan," etc.] + +If the Tzar could but have mustered courage to _cut_ the knot! Alas for +Russia and for him, he wasted himself in efforts to _untie_ it. His +heart sickened at it; he welcomed death, which alone could remove him +from it. + +Alexander's successor, Nicholas I., had been known before his accession +as a mere martinet, a good colonel for parade-days, wonderful in +detecting soiled uniforms, terrible in administering petty punishments. +It seems like the story of stupid Brutus over again. Altered +circumstances made a new man of him; and few things are more strange +than the change wrought in his whole bearing and look by that week of +agony and energy in climbing his brother's throne. The portraits of +Nicholas the Grand Duke and Nicholas the Autocrat seem portraits of two +different persons. The first face is averted, suspicious, harsh, with +little meaning and less grandeur; the second is direct, commanding, not +unkind, every feature telling of will to crush opposition, every line +marking sense of Russian supremacy. + +The great article of Nicholas's creed was a complete, downright faith in +Despotism, and in himself as Despotism's apostle. + +Hence he hated, above all things, a limited monarchy. He told De Custine +that a pure monarchy or pure republic he could understand; but that +anything between these he could _not_ understand. Of his former rule of +Poland, as constitutional monarch, he spoke with loathing. + +Of this hate which Nicholas felt for liberal forms of government there +yet remain monuments in the great museum of the Kremlin. + +That museum holds an immense number of interesting things, and masses +of jewels and plate which make all other European collections mean. The +visitor wanders among clumps of diamonds, and sacks of pearls, and a +nauseating wealth of rubies and sapphires and emeralds. There rise row +after row of jewelled scymitars, and vases and salvers of gold, and old +saddles studded with diamonds, and with stirrups of gold,--presents of +frightened Asiatic satraps or fawning European allies. + +There, too, are the crowns of Muscovy, of Russia, of Kazan, of +Astrachan, of Siberia, of the Crimea, and, pity to say it, of Poland. +And next this is an index of despotic hate,--for the Polish sceptre is +broken and flung aside. + +Near this stands the full-length portrait of the first Alexander; and at +his feet are grouped captured flags of Hungary and Poland,--some with +blood-marks still upon them. + +But below all,--far beneath the feet of the Emperor,--in dust +and ignominy and on the floor, is flung the very Constitution of +Poland--parchment for parchment, ink for ink, good promise for good +promise--which Alexander gave with so many smiles, and which Nicholas +took away with so much bloodshed. + +And not far from this monument of the deathless hate Nicholas bore that +liberty he had stung to death stands a monument of his admiration for +straightforward tyranny, even in the most dreaded enemy his house ever +knew. Standing there is a statue in the purest of marble,--the only +statue in those vast halls. It has the place of honor. It looks proudly +over all that glory, and keeps ward over all that treasure; and that +statue, in full majesty of imperial robes and bees and diadem and face, +is of the first Napoleon. Admiration of his tyrannic will has at last +made him peaceful sovereign of the Kremlin. + +This spirit of absolutism took its most offensive form in Nicholas's +attitude toward Europe. He was the very incarnation of reaction against +revolution, and he became the demigod of that horde of petty despots who +infest Central Europe. + +Whenever, then, any tyrant's lie was to be baptized, he stood its +godfather; whenever any God's truth was to be crucified, he led on +those who passed by reviling and wagging their heads. Whenever these +oppressors revived some old feudal wrong, Nicholas backed them in the +name of Religion; whenever their nations struggled to preserve some +great right, Nicholas crushed them in the name of Law and Order. With +these pauper princes his children intermarried, and he fed them with his +crumbs, and clothed them with scraps of his purple. The visitor can +see to-day, in every one of their dwarf palaces, some of his malachite +vases, or porcelain bowls, or porphyry columns. + +But the _people_ of Western Europe distrusted him as much as their +rulers worshipped; and some of these same presents to their rulers have +become trifle-monuments of no mean value in showing that popular idea +of Russian policy. Foremost among these stand those two bronze masses +of statuary in front of the Royal Palace at Berlin,--representing fiery +horses restrained by strong men. Pompous inscriptions proclaim these +presents from Nicholas; but the people, knowing the man and his +measures, have fastened forever upon one of these curbed steeds the name +of "Progress Checked," and on the other, "Retrogression Encouraged." + +And the people were right. Whether sending presents to gladden his +Prussian pupil, or sending armies to crush Hungary, or sending sneering +messages to plague Louis Philippe, he remained proud in his apostolate +of Absolutism. + +This pride Nicholas never relaxed. A few days before his self-will +brought him to his death-bed, we saw him ride through the St. Petersburg +streets with no pomp and no attendants, yet in as great pride as ever +Despotism gave a man. At his approach, nobles uncovered and looked +docile, soldiers faced about and became statues, long-bearded peasants +bowed to the ground with the air of men on whose vision a miracle +flashes. For there was one who could make or mar all fortunes,--the +absolute owner of street and houses and passers-by,--one who owned the +patent and dispensed the right to tread that soil, to breathe that air, +to be glorified in that sunlight and amid those snow-crystals. And he +looked it all. Though at that moment his army was entrapped by military +stratagem, and he himself was entrapped by diplomatic stratagem, that +face and form were proud as ever and confident as ever. + +There was, in this attitude toward Europe,--in this standing forth +as the representative man of Absolutism, and breasting the nineteenth +century,--something of greatness; but in his attitude toward Russia this +greatness was wretchedly diminished. + +For, as Alexander I. was a good man enticed out of goodness by the baits +of Napoleon, Nicholas was a great man scared out of greatness by the +ever-recurring phantom of the French Revolution. + +In those first days of his reign, when he enforced loyalty with +grape-shot and halter, Nicholas dared much and stood firm; but his +character soon showed another side. + +Fearless as he was before bright bayonets, he was an utter coward before +bright ideas. He laughed at the flash of cannon, but he trembled at the +flash of a new living thought. Whenever, then, he attempted a great +thing for his nation, he was sure to be scared back from its completion +by fear of revolution. And so, to-day, he who looks through Russia for +Nicholas's works finds a number of great things he has done, but each is +single, insulated,--not preceded logically, not followed effectively. + +Take, as an example of this, his railway-building. + +His own pride and Russian interest demanded railways. He scanned the +world with that keen eye of his,--saw that American energy was the best +supplement to Russian capital; his will darted quickly, struck afar, and +Americans came to build his road from St. Petersburg to Moscow. + +Nothing can be more complete. It is an "air-line" road, and so perfect +that the traveller finds few places where the rails do not meet on +either side of him in the horizon. The track is double,--the rails very +heavy and admirably ballasted,--station-houses and engine-houses are +splendid in build, perfect in arrangement, and surrounded by neat +gardens. The whole work is worthy of the Pyramid-builders. The +traveller is whirled by culverts, abutments, and walls of dressed +granite,--through cuttings where the earth on either side is carefully +paved or turfed to the summit. Ranges of Greek columns are reared as +crossings in the midst of broad marshes,--lions' heads in bronzed iron +stare out upon vast wastes where never rose even the smoke from a serf's +kennel. + +All this seems good; and a ride of four hundred miles through such +glories rarely fails to set the traveller at chanting the praises of the +Emperor who conceived them. But when the traveller notes that complete +isolation of the work from all conditions necessary to its success, his +praises grow fainter. He sees that Nicholas held back from continuing +the road to Odessa, though half the money spent in making the road an +Imperial plaything would have built a good, solid extension to that +most important seaport; he sees that Nicholas dared not untie +police-regulations, and that commerce is wretchedly meagre. Contrary to +what would obtain under a free system, this great public work found the +country wretched and left it wretched. The traveller flies by no ranges +of trim palings and tidy cottages; he sees the same dingy groups of huts +here as elsewhere,--the same cultivation looking for no morrow,--the +same tokens that the laborer is _not_ thought worthy of his hire. + +This same tendency to great single works, this same fear of great +connected systems, this same timid isolation of great creations from +principles essential to their growth is seen, too, in Nicholas's +church-building. + +Foremost of all the edifices on which Nicholas lavished the wealth of +the Empire stands the Isak Church in St. Petersburg. It is one of the +largest, and certainly the richest, cathedral in Christendom. All is +polished pink granite and marble and bronze. On all sides are double +rows of Titanic columns,--each a single block of polished granite with +bronze capital. Colossal masses of bronze statuary are grouped over each +front; high above the roof and surrounding the great drums of the domes +are lines of giant columns in granite bearing giant statues in bronze; +and crowning all rises the vast central dome, flanked by its four +smaller domes, all heavily plated with gold. + +The church within is one gorgeous mass of precious marbles and mosaics +and silver and gold and jewels. On the tabernacle of the altar, in +gold and malachite, on the screen of the altar, with its pilasters of +_lapis-lazuli_ and its range of malachite columns fifty feet high, were +lavished millions on millions. Bulging from the ceilings are massy +bosses of Siberian porphyry and jasper. To decorate the walls with +unfading pictures, Nicholas founded an establishment for mosaic work, +where sixty pictures were commanded, each demanding, after all artistic +labor, the mechanical labor of two men for four years. + +Yet this vast work is not so striking a monument of Nicholas's luxury as +of his timidity. + +For this cathedral and some others almost as grand were, in part, at +least, results of the deep wish of Nicholas to wean his people from +their semi-idolatrous love for dark, confined, filthy sanctuaries, like +those of Moscow; but here, again, is a timid purpose and half-result; +Nicholas dared set no adequate enginery working at the popular religious +training or moral training. There had been such an organization,--the +Russian Bible Society,--favored by the first Alexander; but Nicholas +swept it away at one pen-stroke. Evidently, he feared lest Scriptural +denunciations of certain sins in ancient politics might be popularly +interpreted against certain sins in modern politics. + +It was this same vague fear at revolutionary remembrance which thwarted +Nicholas in all his battling against official corruption. + +The corruption-system in Russia is old, organized, and respectable. +Stories told of Russian bribes and thefts exceed belief only until one +has been on the ground. + +Nicholas began well. He made an Imperial progress to Odessa,--was +welcomed in the morning by the Governor in full pomp and robes and +flow of smooth words; and at noon the same Governor was working in the +streets, with ball and chain, as a convict. + +But against such a chronic moral evil no government is so weak as your +so-called "_strong_" government. Nicholas set out one day for the +Cronstadt arsenals, to look into the accounts there; but before he +reached them, stores, storehouses, and account-books were in ashes. + +So, at last, Nicholas folded his arms and wrestled no more. For, apart +from the trouble, there came ever in his dealings with thieves that +old timid thought of his, that, if he examined too closely their +thief-tenure, they might examine too closely his despot-tenure. + +We have shown this vague fear in Nicholas's mind, thus at length and in +different workings, because thereby alone can be grasped the master-key +to his dealings with the serf-system. + +Toward his toiling millions Nicholas always showed sympathy. Let news +of a single wrong to a serf get through the hedges about the Russian +majesty, and woe to the guilty master! Many of these wrongs came +to Nicholas's notice; and he came to hate the system, and tried to +undermine it. + +Opposition met him, of course,--not so much the ponderous laziness of +Peter's time as an opposition polite and elastic, which never ranted and +never stood up,--for then Nicholas would have throttled it and stamped +upon it. But it did its best to entangle his reason and thwart his +action. + +He was told that the serfs were well fed, well housed, well clothed, +well provided with religion,--were contented, and had no wish to leave +their owners. + +Now Nicholas was not strong at spinning sham reason nor subtle at +weaving false conscience; but, to his mind, the very fact that the +system had so degraded a man that he could laugh and dance and sing, +while other men took his wages and wife and homestead, was the crowning +argument _against_ the system. + +Then the political economists beset him, proving that without forced +labor Russia must sink into sloth and poverty.[I] + +[Footnote I: For choice specimens of these reasonings, see Von Erman, +_Archiv für Wissenschaftliche Kunde von Russland_.] + +Yet all this could not shut out from Nicholas's sight the great black +_fact_ in the case. He saw, and winced as he saw, that, while other +European nations, even under despots, were comparatively active and +energetic, his own people were sluggish and stagnant,--that, although +great thoughts and great acts were towering in the West, there were in +Russia, after all his galvanizing, no great authors, or scholars, or +builders, or inventors, but only those two main products of Russian +civilization,--dissolute lords and abject serfs. + +But what to do? Nicholas tried to help his Empire by setting right any +individual wrongs whose reports broke their way to him. + +Nearly twenty years went by in this timid dropping of grains of salt +into a putrid sea. + +But at last, in 1842, Nicholas issued his ukase creating the class of +"contracting peasants." Masters and serfs were empowered to enter into +contracts,--the serf receiving freedom, the master receiving payment in +instalments. + +It was a moderate innovation, _very_ moderate,--nothing more than the +first failure of the first Alexander. Yet, even here, that old timidity +of Nicholas nearly spoiled what little good was hidden in the ukase. +Notice after notice was given to the serf-owners that they were not to +be molested, that no emancipation was contemplated, and that the ukase +"contained nothing new." + +The result was as feeble as the policy. A few serfs were emancipated, +and Nicholas halted. The revolutions of 1848 increased his fear of +innovation; and, finally, the war in the Crimea took from him the power +of innovation. + +The great man died. We saw his cold, dead face, in the midst of crowns +and crosses,--very pale then, very powerless then. One might stare at +him then, as at a serf's corpse; for he who had scared Europe during +thirty years lay before us that day as a poor lump of chilled brain and +withered muscle. + +And we stood by, when, amid chanting, and flare of torches, and roll of +cannon, his sons wrapped him in his shroud of gold-thread, and lowered +him into the tomb of his fathers. + +But there was shown in those days far greater tribute than the prayers +of bishops or the reverence of ambassadors. Massed about the Winter +Palace, and the Fortress of Peter and Paul, stood thousands on thousands +who, in far-distant serf-huts, had put on their best, had toiled wearily +to the capital, to give their last mute thanks to one who for years had +stood between their welfare and their owners' greed. Sad that he had not +done more. Yet they knew that he had _wished_ their freedom,--that he +had loathed their wrongs: for _that_ came up the tribute of millions. + +The new Emperor, Alexander II., had never been hoped for as one who +could light the nation from his brain: the only hope was that he might +warm the nation, somewhat, from his heart. He was said to be of a weak, +silken fibre. The strength of the family was said to be concentrated in +his younger brother Constantine. + +But soon came a day when the young Tzar revealed to Europe not merely +kindliness, but strength. + +While his father's corpse was yet lying within his palace, he received +the diplomatic body. As the Emperor entered the audience-room, he seemed +feeble indeed for such a crisis. That fearful legacy of war seemed to +weigh upon his heart; marks of plenteous tears were upon his face; +Nesselrode, though old and bent and shrunk in stature, seemed stronger +than his young master. + +But, as he began his speech, it was seen that a strong man had mounted +the throne. + +With earnestness he declared that he sorrowed over the existing +war,--but that, if the Holy Alliance had been broken, it was not through +the fault of Russia. With bitterness he turned toward the Austrian +Minister, Esterhazy, and hinted at Russian services in 1848 and Austrian +ingratitude. Calmly, then, not as one who spoke a part, but as one who +announced a determination, he declared,--"I am anxious for peace; but if +the terms at the approaching congress are incompatible with the honor of +my nation, I will put myself at the head of my faithful Russia and die +sooner than yield."[J] + +[Footnote J: This sketch is given from notes taken at the audience.] + +Strong as Alexander showed himself by these words, he showed himself +stronger by acts. A policy properly mingling firmness and conciliation +brought peace to Europe, and showed him equal to his father; a policy +mingling love of liberty with love of order brought the dawn of +prosperity to Russia, and showed him the superior of his father. + +The reforms now begun were not stinted, as of old, but free and hearty. +In rapid succession were swept away restrictions on telegraphic +communication,--on printing,--on the use of the Imperial Library,--on +strangers entering the country,--on Russians leaving the country. A +policy in public works was adopted which made Nicholas's greatest +efforts seem petty: a vast net-work of railways was commenced. A policy +in commercial dealings with Western Europe was adopted, in which +Alexander, though not apparently so imposing as Nicholas, was really far +greater: he dared advance toward freedom of trade. + +But soon rose again that great problem of old,--that problem ever +rising to meet a new Autocrat, and, at each appearance, more dire than +before,--the serf-question. + +The serfs in private hands now numbered more than twenty millions; above +them stood more than a hundred thousand owners. + +The princely strength of the largest owners was best represented by a +few men possessing over a hundred thousand serfs each, and, above all, +by Count Scheremetieff, who boasted three hundred thousand. The luxury +of the large owners was best represented by about four thousand men +possessing more than a thousand serfs each. The pinching propensities +of the small owners were best represented by nearly fifty thousand men +possessing less than twenty serfs each.[K] + +[Footnote K: Gerebtzoff, _Histoire de la Civilisation en +Russie_,--Wolowski, in _Revue des Deux Mondes_,--and Tegoborski, +_Commentaries on the Productive Forces of Russia_, Vol. I. p. 221.] + +The serfs might be divided into two great classes. The first comprised +those working under the old, or _corvée_, system,--giving, generally, +three days in the week to the tillage of the owner's domain; the second +comprised those working under the new, or _obrok_, system,--receiving +a payment fixed by the owner and assessed by the community to which the +serfs belonged. + +The character of the serfs has been moulded by the serf-system. + +They have a simple shrewdness, which, under a better system, had made +them enterprising; but this quality has degenerated into cunning and +cheatery,--the weapons which the hopelessly oppressed always use. + +They have a reverence for things sacred, which, under a better system, +might have given the nation a strengthening religion; but they now stand +among the most religious peoples on earth, and among the least moral. To +the besmutted picture of Our Lady of Kazan they are ever ready to burn +wax and oil; to Truth and Justice they constantly omit the tribute of +mere common honesty. They keep the Church fasts like saints; they keep +the Church feasts like satyrs. + +They have a curiosity, which, under a better system, had made them +inventive; but their plough in common use is behind the plough described +by Virgil. + +They have a love of gain, which, under a better system, had made them +hard-working; but it takes ten serfs to do languidly and poorly what +two free men in America do quickly and well. + +They are naturally a kind people; but let one example show how serfage +can transmute kindness. + +It is a rule well known in Russia, that, when an accident occurs, +interference is to be left to the police. Hence you shall see a man +lying in a fit, and the bystanders giving no aid, but waiting for the +authorities. + +Some years since, as all the world remembers, a theatre took fire in St. +Petersburg, and crowds of people were burned or stifled. The whole story +is not so well known. That theatre was but a great temporary wooden +shed,--such as is run up every year at the holidays, in the public +squares. When the fire burst forth, crowds of peasants hurried to the +spot; but though they heard the shrieks of the dying,--separated from +them only by a thin planking,--only one man, in all that multitude, +dared cut through and rescue some of the sufferers. + +The serfs, when standing for great ideas, will die rather than yield. +The first Napoleon learned this at Eylau,--the third Napoleon learned +it at Sevastopol; yet in daily life they are slavish beyond belief. On +a certain day in the year 1855, the most embarrassed man in all the +Russias was, doubtless, our excellent American Minister. The +serf-coachman employed at wages was called up to receive his discharge for +drunkenness. Coming into the presence of a sound-hearted American +democrat, who had never dreamed of one mortal kneeling to another, Ivan +throws himself on his knees, presses his forehead to the Minister's +feet, fawns like a tamed beast, and refuses to move until the Minister +relieves himself from this nightmare of servility by a full pardon. + +The whole working of the system has been fearful. + +Time after time, we have entered the serf field and serf hut,--have +seen the simple round of serf toils and sports,--have heard the simple +chronicles of serf joys and sorrows. But whether his livery were filthy +sheepskin or gold-laced caftan,--whether he lay on carpets at the door +of his master, or in filth on the floor of his cabin,--whether he gave +us cold, stupid stories of his wrongs, or flippant details of his +joys,--whether he blessed his master or cursed him,--we have wondered at +the power which a serf-system has to degrade and imbrute the image of +God. + +But astonishment was increased a thousand fold at study of the reflex +influence for evil upon the serf-owners themselves,--upon the whole +free community,--upon the very soil of the whole country. + +On all those broad plains of Russia, on the daily life of that +serf-owning aristocracy, on the whole class which is neither of serfs +nor serf-owners, the curse of God is written in letters so big and so +black that all mankind may read them. + +Farms are untilled, enterprise deadened, invention crippled, +education neglected; life is of little value; labor is the badge of +servility,--laziness the very badge and passport of gentility. + +Despite the most specious half-measures,--despite all efforts to +galvanize it, to coax life into it, to sting life into it, the nation +has remained stagnant. Not one traveller who does not know that the +evils brought on that land by the despotism of the Autocrat are as +nothing compared to that dark net-work of curses spread over it by a +serf-owning aristocracy. + +Into the conflict with this evil Alexander II. entered manfully. + +Having been two years upon the throne, having made a plan, having +stirred some thought through certain authorized journals, he inspires +the nobility in three of the northwestern provinces to memorialize him +in regard to emancipation. + +Straightway an answer is sent, conveying the outlines of the Emperor's +plan. The period of transition from serfage to freedom is set at twelve +years; at the end of that time the serf is to be fully free, and +possessor of his cabin, with an adjoining piece of land. The provincial +nobles are convoked to fill out these outlines with details as to the +working out by the serfs of a fair indemnity to their masters. + +The whole world is stirred; but that province in which the Tzar hoped +most eagerly for a movement to meet him--the province where beats the +old Muscovite heart, Moscow--is stirred least of all. Every earnest +throb seems stifled there by that strong aristocracy. + +Yet Moscow moves at last. Some nobles who have not yet arrived at the +callous period, some Professors in the University who have not yet +arrived at the heavy period, breathe life into the mass, drag on the +timid, fight off the malignant. + +The movement has soon a force which the retrograde party at Moscow dare +not openly resist. So they send answers to St. Petersburg apparently +favorable; but wrapped in their phrases are hints of difficulties, +reservations, impossibilities. + +All this studied suggestion of difficulties profits the reactionists +nothing. They are immediately informed that the Imperial mind is made +up,--that the business of the Muscovite nobility is now to arrange that +the serf be freed in twelve years, and put in possession of homestead +and inclosure. + +The next movement of the retrograde party is to _misunderstand_ +everything. The plainest things are found to need a world of +debate,--the simplest things become entangled,--the noble assemblies +play solemnly a ludicrous game at cross-purposes. + +Straightway comes a notice from the Emperor, which, stripped of official +verbiage, says that they _must_ understand. This sets all in motion +again. Imperial notices are sent to province after province, explanatory +documents are issued, good men and strong are set to talk and work. + +The nobility of Moscow now make another move. To scare back the +advancing forces of emancipation, they elect as provincial leaders three +nobles bearing the greatest names of old Russia, and haters of the new +ideas. + +To defeat these comes a miracle. + +There stands forth a successor of Saint Gregory and Saint Bavon,--one +who accepts that deep mediaeval thought, that, when God advances +great ideas, the Church must marshal them, or go under,--Philarete, +Metropolitan of Moscow. The Church, as represented in him, is no longer +scholastic,--it is become apostolic. He upholds emancipation,--condemns +its foes; his earnest eloquence carries all. + +The work having progressed unevenly,--nobles in different governments +differing in plan and aim,--an assembly of delegates is brought together +at St Petersburg to combine and perfect a resultant plan under the eye +of the Emperor. + +The Grand Council of the Empire, too, is set at the work. It is a most +unpromising body,--yet the Emperor's will stirs it. + +The opposition now make the most brilliant stroke of their campaign. +Just as James II. of England prated toleration and planned the +enslavement of all thought, so now the bigoted plotters against +emancipation begin to prate of Constitutional Liberty. + +Had they been fighting Nicholas, this would doubtless have accomplished +its purpose. He would have become furious, and in his fury would have +wrecked reform. But Alexander bears right on. It is even hinted that +visions of a constitutional monarchy please him. + +But then come tests of Alexander's strength far more trying. Masses of +peasants, hearing vague news of emancipation,--learning, doubtless, from +their masters' own spiteful lips that the Emperor is endeavoring to tear +away property in serfs,--take the masters at their word, and determine +to help the Emperor. They rise in insurrection. + +To the bigoted serf-owners this is a godsend. They parade it in all +lights; therewith they throw life into all the old commonplaces on the +French Revolution; timid men of good intentions begin to waver. The Tzar +will surely now be scared back. + +Not so. Alexander now hurls his greatest weapon, and stuns reaction in a +moment. He frees all the serfs on the Imperial estates without reserve. +Now it is seen that he is in earnest; the opponents are disheartened; +once more the plan moves and drags them on. + +But there came other things to dishearten the Emperor; and not least of +these was the attitude of those who moulded popular thought in England. + +Be it said here to the credit of France, that from her came constant +encouragement in the great work. Wolowski, Mazade, and other +true-hearted men sent forth from leading reviews and journals words of +sympathy, words of help, words of cheer. + +Not so England. Just as, in the French Revolution of 1789, while yet +that Revolution was noble and good, while yet Lafayette and Bailly held +it, leaders in English thought who had quickened the opinions which +had caused the Revolution sent malignant prophecies and prompted foul +blows,--just as, in this our own struggle, leaders in English thought +who have helped create the opinion which has brought on this struggle +now deal treacherously with us,--so, in this battle of Alexander against +a foul wrong, they seized this time of all times to show all the +wrongs and absurdities of which Russia ever had been or ever might be +guilty,--criticized, carped, sent plentifully haughty advice, depressing +sympathy, malignant prophecy. + +Review-articles, based on no real knowledge of Russia, announced desire +for serf-emancipation,--and then, in the modern English way, with +plentiful pyrotechnics of antithesis and paradox, threw a gloomy light +into the skilfully pictured depths of Imperial despotism, official +corruption, and national bankruptcy. + +They revived Old-World objections, which, to one acquainted with the +most every-day workings of serfage, were ridiculous. + +It was said, that, if the serfs lost the protection of their owners, +they might fall a prey to rapacious officials. As well might it +have been argued that a mother should never loose her son from her +apron-strings. + +It was said that "serfism excludes pauperism,"--that, if the serf owes +work to his owner in the prime of life, the owner owes support to his +serf in the decline of life. No lie could be more absurd to one who had +seen Russian life. We were first greeted, on entering Russia, by a +beggar who knelt in the mud; at Kovno eighteen beggars besieged the +coach,--and Kovno was hardly worse than scores of other towns; within a +day's ride of St. Petersburg a woman begged piteously for means to keep +soul and body together, and finished the refutation of that sonorous +English theory,--for she had been discharged from her master's service +in the metropolis as too feeble, and had been sent back to his domain, +afar in the country, on foot and without money. + +It was said that freed peasants would not work. But, despite volleys +of predictions that they _would_ not work if freed, despite volleys of +assertions that they _could_ not work if freed, the peasants, when set +free, and not crushed by regulations, have sprung to their work with an +earnestness, and continued it with a vigor, at which the philosophers +of the old system stand aghast. The freed peasants of Wologda compare +favorably with any in Europe. + +And when the old tirades had grown stale, English writers drew copiously +from a new source,--from "La Vérité sur la Russie,"--pleasingly +indifferent to the fact that the author's praise in a previous work had +notoriously been a thing of bargain and sale, and that there was in full +process of development a train of facts which led the Parisian courts to +find him guilty of demanding in one case a "blackmail" of fifty thousand +roubles.[L] + +[Footnote L: _Procès en Diffamation du Prince Simon Worontzoff contre le +Prince Pierre Dolgornokow_. Leipzig, 1862] + +All this argument outside the Empire helped the foes of emancipation +inside the Empire. + +But the Emperor met the whole body of his opponents with an argument +overwhelming. On the 5th of March, 1861, he issued his manifesto making +the serfs FREE. He had struggled long to make some satisfactory previous +arrangement; his motto now became, Emancipation first, Arrangement +afterward. Thus was the _result_ of the great struggle decided; but, +to this day, the after-arrangement remains undecided. The Tzar offers +gradual indemnity; the nobles seem to prefer fire and blood. Alexander +stands firm; the last declaration brought across the water was that he +would persist in reforms. + +But, whatever the after-process, THE SERFS ARE FREE. + +The career before Russia is hopeful indeed; emancipation of her serfs +has set her fully in that career. The vast mass of her inhabitants are +of a noble breed, combining the sound mind of the Indo-Germanic races +with the tough muscle of the northern plateaus of Asia. In no other +country on earth is there such unity in language, in degree of +cultivation, and in basis of ideas. Absolutely the same dialect is +spoken by lord and peasant, in capital and in province. + +And, to an American thinker, more hopeful still for Russia is the +patriarchal democratic system,--spreading a primary political education +through the whole mass. Leaders of their hamlets and communities +are voted for; bodies of peasants settle the partition of land and +assessments in public meetings; discussions are held; votes are taken; +and though Tzar's right and nobles' right are considered far above +people's right, yet this rude democratic schooling is sure to keep +bright in the people some sparks of manliness and some glow of free +thought. + +In view, too, of many words and acts of the present Emperor, it is +not too much to hope, that, ere many years, Russia will become a +constitutional monarchy. + +So shall Russia be made a power before which all other European powers +shall be pigmies. + +Before the close of the year in which we now stand, there is to be +celebrated at Nijnii-Novogorod the thousandth anniversary of the +founding of Russia. Then is to rise above the domes and spires of that +famed old capital a monument to the heroes of Russian civilization. + +Let the sculptor group about its base Rurik and his followers, who in +rude might hewed out strongholds for the coming nation. Let goodly +place be given to Minime and Pojarski, who drove forth barbarian +invaders,--goodly place also to Platov and Kutusov, who drove forth +civilized invaders. Let there be high-placed niches for Ivan the Great, +who developed order,--for Peter the Great, who developed physical +strength,--for Derjavine and Karamsin, who developed moral and mental +strength. Let Philarete of Moscow stand forth as he stood confronting +with Christ's gospel the traffickers in flesh and blood. In loving care +let there be wrought the face and form of Alexander the First,--the +Kindly. + +But, crowning all, let there lord it a noble statue to the greatest of +Russian benefactors in all these thousand years,--to the Warrior who +restored peace,--to the Monarch who had faith in God's will to make +order, and in man's will to keep order,--to the Christian Patriot who +made forty millions of serfs forty millions of _men_,--to Alexander the +Second,--ALEXANDER THE EARNEST. + + * * * * * + + +MR. AXTELL. + +PART IV. + + +I said that the afternoon sunlight poured its rain into the church-yard. +It was four of the clock when Aaron left me. + +The dream that I had received impression of still dwelt in active +remembrance, and a little fringe from the greater glory mine eyes had +seen went trailing in flows of light along the edge of earth, as if +saying unto it, "Arise and behold what I am!" + +One child habiting earth dared to lift eyes into the awful arch of air, +wherein are laid the foundation-stones of the crystalline wall, and, +beholding drops of Infinite Love, garnered one, and, walking forth with +it in her heart, went into the church-yard,--a regret arising that the +graves that held the columns fallen from the family-corridor had found +so little of place within affection's realm. The regret, growing into +resolution, hastened her steps, that went unto the place devoted to +the dead Percivals. It was in a corner,--the corner wherein grew the +pine-tree of the hills. + +"A peaceful spot of earth," I thought, as I went into the hedged +inclosure, and shut myself in with the gleaming marble, and the +low-hanging evergreens that waved their green arms to ward ill away from +those they had grown up among. "It is long since the ground has been +broken here," I thought,--"so long!" And I looked upon a monumental +stone to find there recorded the latest date of death. It was eighteen +hundred and forty-four,--my mother's,--and I looked about and sought +her grave. The grass seemed crispy and dry. I sat down by this grave. I +leaned over it, and looked into the tangled net-work of dead fibres held +fast by some link of the past to living roots underneath. I plucked some +of them, and in idlest of fancies looked closely to see if deeds or +thoughts of a summer gone had been left upon them. "No! I've had enough +of fancies for one day; I'll have no more to-night," I thought; and I +wished for something to do. I longed for action whereon to imprint my +new impress of resolution. It came in a guise I had not calculated upon. + +"It's very wrong of you to sit upon that damp ground, Miss Percival." + +The words evidently were addressed to me, sitting hidden in among the +evergreens. I looked up and answered,-- + +"It is not damp, Mr. Axtell." + +He was leaning upon the iron railing outside of the hedge. + +"Will you come away from that cold, damp place?" he went on. + +"I'm not ready to leave yet," I said, and never moved. I asked,-- + +"How is your sister since morning?" + +I thought him offended. He made no reply,--only walked away and went +into the church close by. + +"One can never know the next mood that one of these Axtells will take," +I said to myself, in the stillness that followed his going. "He might +have answered me, at least." Then I reproached Anna Percival for +cherishing uncharity towards tried humanity. There's a way appointed +for escape, I know, and I sought it, burying my face in my hands, and +leaning over the stillness of my mother's heart. I heard steps drawing +near. Looking up, I saw Mr. Axtell entering the inclosure. He had +brought one of the church pew-cushions. + +"Will you rise?" he asked. + +He did not bring the cushion to where I was; he carried it around and +spread it in a vacant spot between two graves, the place left beside +my mother for my precious father's white hairs to be laid in. Having +deposited it there, he looked at me, evidently expecting that I would +avail myself of his kindness. I wanted to refuse. I felt perfectly +comfortable where I was. I should have done so, had not my intention +been intercepted by a shaft of expression that crossed my vein of +humor unexpectedly. It was only a look from out of his eyes. They were +absolutely colorless,--not white, not black, but a strange mingling of +all hues made them everything to my view,--and yet so full of coloring +that no one ray came shining out and said, "I'm blue, or black, or +gray;" but something said, if not the mandate of color, "Obey!" + +I did. + +"Sacrilege!" I said. "It is a place for worship." + +"Whose grave is this?" Mr. Axtell asked, as he bent down and laid his +hand upon the sod. It was upon the one next beyond my mother's; between +the two it was that he had placed the cushion. + +"The head-stone is just there. You can read, can you not?" I asked, with +a spice of malice, because for the second time this barbaric gentleman +had commanded me to obey. + +He lifted himself up, leaned against the towering family-monument, and +slowly said,-- + +"Miss Percival, it is very hard for an Axtell to forgive." + +I thought of the face in the Upper Country, and asked,-- + +"Why?" + +"Because the Creator has almost deprived them of forgiving power. Don't +tempt one of them to sin by giving occasion for the exercise of that +wherein they mourn at being deficient." + +I pulled dead grassy fibres again, and said nothing. + +The second time he bent to the mound of earth, and said,-- + +"Please tell me now, Miss Anna, whose grave this is;" and there were +tears in his eyes that made them for the moment grandly brown. + +"Truly, Mr. Axtell, I do not know. I've been so busy with the living that +I've not thought much of this place. It long since all these died, you +know;" and I looked about upon the little village closed in by the iron +railing. "I do not know that I can tell you one, save my mother's, here. +I remember her; the others I cannot." + +I arose to walk around to the headstone and see. + +"No," he said. "Will you listen to me a little while?" + +"If you'll sing for me." + +"Sing for you?"--and there was a world of reproach in his meaning. "Is +this a place for songs? or am I a man to sing?" + +"Why not, Mr. Axtell? Aaron told me that you could sing, if you would; +he has heard you." + +"I will sing for you," he said, "if, after I am done, you choose to hear +the song I sing." + +I thought again of Miss Lettie, and put the question, once unheeded, +concerning her. + +"She is better. Your sister is a charming nurse." + +A long quiet ensued; in it came the memory of Dr. Eaton's interest in +the young girl's face. + +"Is Mr. Axtell an artist?" I asked, after the silence. + +"Mr. Axtell is a church-sexton," was the response. + +"Cannot he be both sexton and artist?" + +"How can he?" + +"You have a strange way of telling me that I ought not to question you," +I said, vexed at his non-committal words and manner. + +He changed the subject widely, when next he spoke. + +"Have you the letter that you picked up last night?" he asked. + +"Yes, Mr. Axtell." + +"Give it to me, please." + +"Did Miss Lettie commission you to ask?" + +"She did not." + +"Then I cannot give it to you." + +"Cannot give me my sister's letter?" + +"It was to _me_ that it was intrusted." + +"And you are afraid to trust me with it?" + +"I am afraid to break the trust reposed in myself." + +Again the black roll of silent thunder gloomed on his brow; as once his +sister's eyes had been, his now were coruscant. + +"Do you refuse to give it to me?" he demanded. + +"I do," I said, "now, and until Miss Lettie says, 'Give.'" + +"You've learned the contents, I presume," he said, with untold sarcasm. +"Woman's curiosity digs deeply, when once aroused." + +"You've been taught of woman in a sad school, I fear. I'll forgive the +faults of your education, Mr. Axtell. Have you any more remarks to me? +I'm waiting." + +"Do you know the contents of the letter that made Lettie so anxious?" + +"You accused me before questioning formerly, or I should have given you +truth. I have no knowledge of what is in the letter." + +He had resumed his former position, leaning against the monument, where +I had mine. He changed it now, drawing nearer for an instant, then went +to the side of the grave that he had asked me concerning, kneeled there, +laid two hands above it, and said,-- + +"Letty was right, Miss Anna. God has made you well,--made you after the +similitude of her who sleeps underneath this sod. Will you forgive my +rudeness?" + +And he looked down as I had done, ere he came, into the tangled, matted +fibres, then out into the great all-where of air, as if some mysterious +presence encompassed him. + +Very lowly I said,-- + +"Forgiveness is of God;" and I remembered the vision that came in my +dream. The little voice that steals into hearts crowded with emotions, +and tells tiny nerves of wish which way to fly, went whispering through +the niches of my mind, "Tell the dream." + +Mr. Axtell went back to his monumental resting-place. I said,-- + +"I have had a wonderful dream to-day;" and I began to tell the opening +thereof. + +The first sentence was not told when I stopped, suddenly. I could not go +on. He asked me, "Why?" I only re-uttered what I felt, that I could not +tell it. + +"Oh! I have had a dream," he said,--"one that for eighteen years has +been hung above my days and woven into my nights,--a great, hopeless +woof of doom. I have tried to broider it with gold, I have tried to hang +silver-bells upon the drooping corners thereof. I have tried to fold it +about me and wear it, as other men wear sorrows, for the sun of heaven +and the warmth of society to draw the wrinkled creases out. I have +striven to fold it up, and lay it by in the arbor-vitae chest of memory, +with myrrh and camphor, but it will not be exorcised. No, no! it hangs +firm as granite, stiff as the axis of the sun, unapproachable as the +aurora of the North. Miss Percival, could you wear such a vestment in +the march of life?" + +"Your dream is too mystical; will you tell me what it has done for you? +As yet, I only know what you have not done with it." + +"What it has done for me?"--and he went slowly on, thinking half aloud, +as if the idea were occurring for the first time. + +"It touched me one soft summer day, before the earth became mildewed and +famine-stricken. I was a proud, wilful Axtell boy; all the family traits +were written with a white-hot pen on me. My will, my great high will, +went ringing chimes of what I would do through the house where I was +born, where my mother has just died, and I swung this right arm forth +into the air of existence, and said, 'I will do what I will; men shall +say I am a master in the land.' + +"My father sent me away from home for education. I walked with intrepid +mind through the course where others halted, weary, overladen, unfit for +burden. + +"To gain the valedictory oration was one goal that I had said I would +attain to. I did. That was nineteen years ago. I came home in the soft, +hot, August-time. It was the close of the month. The moon was at its +highest flood of light. I was at the highest tide of will-might. That +night, if any one had told me I could not do that which I had a wish to +accomplish, I would have made my desire triumphant, or death would have +been my only conqueror. Oh! it is dreadful to have such a nature handed +down from the dark past, and thrust into one's life, to be battled with, +to be hewn down at last, unless the lightning of God's wrath cleaves +into the spirit and wakes up the volcano, which forever after emits only +fire and sulphur. There's yet one way more, after the lightning-stroke +comes,--something unutterable, something that canopies the soul with +doom, and forever the spirit tries to raise its wings and fly away, but +every uplifting strikes fire, until, singed, scorched, burnt, wings grow +useless, and droop down, never more to be uplifted." + +Mr. Axtell drooped his arms, as if typical of the wings he had +described. Borne away by the excitement of his words, he stood straight +up against the far-away sky, with the verdure of Norway-evergreens +soothingly waving their green around him. There was a magnificence of +mien in the man, that made my spirit say-- + +"The Deity made that man for great deeds." + +He glanced down at the grave once more, and resumed:-- + +"I came home that August night. The prairie of Time rolled out limitless +before my imagination. I built pyramids of fame; I laid the foundation +of Babel once more, in my heart,--for I said, 'My name shall touch the +stars,--my name! Abraham Axtell!' It is only written in earth, ground to +powder, to-day." + +"An atom of earth's powder may be a star to eyes vast enough to see the +fulness that dwells therein, until to angelic vision our planet stands +out a universe of starry suns, each particle of dust luminous with +eternities of limitless space between," I said, as he, pausing, stooped, +and stirred the crisp grass, to outline his name there. + +"All things are possible," he murmured, "but the rending of my mantle of +doom." + +He looked from the tracing of his name to the west. + +"The sun is going down once more," he said, and bowed his head, as one +does, waiting for pastoral benediction. His eyes were fixed now, as I +had seen his sister's held, but his lips poured out words. + +"The moonlight sheened the earth, hot and heavy and still, that night. +My father, mother, and Lettie were in the home where you have seen +sorrow come. Up from the sea came the low, hollow boom of surges rising +over the crust of land. + +"'To the sea, to the sea, let us go!' I cried; 'it is the very night to +tread the hall of moonbeams that leads to palace of pearls!' + +"My mother was weary; she would have stayed at home, but I was her pearl +of price; she forgot herself. You know the stream that comes down from +the mountain and empties into the ocean. It was in that stream that +my boat floated, and a long walk away. Lettie left us. Just after we +started, I missed her, and asked where she had gone. + +"'You'll see soon,' replied my mother; and even as I looked back, I +saw Lettie following, with a shadow other than her own falling on the +midsummer grass. She did not hasten; she did not seek to come up with +us. My mother was walking beside me. + +"Thus we came to the river, at the place where it wanders out into the +ocean. I saw my boat, my River-Ribbon, floating its cable-length, but +never more, and undulating to the throbs of tide that pulsated along +the blue vein of water, heralding the motion of the heart outside. We +stopped there. The moon was set in the firmament high and fast, as when +it was made to rule the night. The hall of light, lit up along the +twinkling way of waters, looked shining and beckoning in its wavy ways +of grace, a very home for the restless spirit. I wanted to thread its +labyrinth of sparkles; I wanted to cool my wings of desire in its +phosphorescent dew. I said,-- + +"'I am going out upon the sea.' + +"My mother seemed troubled. + +"' Abraham, the boat is unsafe; the water comes through. See! it is half +full now'; and she pointed to where it lay in the stream, lined with a +mimic portraiture of the endless corridor of moonlight that went playing +across the bit of water it held. + +"'This is childish, this is folly,' I thought, 'to be stayed on such a +_spirit_ mission by a few cups of water in a boat! What shall I ever +accomplish in life, if I yield thus?--and without waiting to more than +half hear, certainly not to obey, my father's stern 'Stay on shore, +Abraham,' I went down the bank, stepped into a bit of a bark, and pushed +it into the stream, where my boat was now rocking on the strengthened +flow of ocean's rise. + +"I came to the boat, bailed out the water with a tin cup that lay +floating inside, and calling back to land, 'Go home without me; do +not wait,' I took the oars, and in my River-Ribbon, set free from its +anchorage, I commenced rowing against the tide. I looked back to the +bank I was fast leaving. I saw figures standing there. + +"'They'll go home soon,' I said, and I turned my eyes steadfastly toward +the sheeny track, all crimpled and curled with fibrous net-work, and +rowed on. + +"It was a glorious night,--a night when one toss of a mermaid's hair, +made visible above the waters, as she flew along the track I was +pursuing, would have been worth a life of rowing against this incoming +tide. + +"You have never tried to row, Miss Anna. You don't know how hard it is +to push a boat out of a river when the sea sends up full veins to course +the strong arms she reaches up into the land." + +For one moment, as he addressed me, his eyes lost their rapt look; they +went back to it, and he to his story. + +"I saw the fin of a shark dancing in the waves. Sharks were nothing +for me. I did not look down into my boat. No, men never do; they look +_beyond where they are_. They're a sorry race, Miss Anna. + +"The shark went down after some bit of prey more delicious than I. My +will would have been hard for him to manage. I forgot the shark. I +forgot the figures standing, waiting on the shore that I had left, ere +Lettie and the shadow that walked with her, whatever it was, had come to +it. I forgot everything but the phosphorescent dew that would cool my +spirit, athirst for what I knew not, ravenous for refreshment, searching +for manna where it never grew. The plaudits of yesterday were ringing in +my ears, the wavelets danced to their music, my oars kept time to the +vanity measure of my beating mind. Still I was not content. I wanted +something more. A faded flower, an althea-bud, was still pendent from my +coat. I had taken it out from the mass of flowers with which I had been +honored. I noticed it now. The moon dewed it over with its yellowness. +'An offering to the sea-nymphs!' I said, and I cast it forth into the +wide field. It did not go down, as I had fancied it would. No, it went +on, whither the movement of the ceaseless dance of motion carried it. I +leaned upon my oars and watched it until it went out of the illuminated +track. I was now in the bay, outside the river. I looked once more +shoreward. I had threaded the curve of the stream, and could not see +around the point. No living human thing was in sight. I was alone with +Nature in the night, when she looks down glories, and spreads out fields +where we long to walk, and our footsteps are fast in clay. I was not far +from shore; it lay dark behind me; it was only before that I could see. +As I paused in my rowing to watch the althea-bud set afloat, I heard a +tiny splash in the waters. + +"'A school of fish flashing up a moment,' I thought, and did not further +heed it." + +The man looked as if he were now out at sea. He turned his head the +least bit: the effect against the sky was fine. He had an attitude of +watching and listening. + +"I saw an object before me moving on the waters. I looked down. The +water was rising in my own boat. I could not heed it just now. + +"'In a moment,' I thought, 'I would stop to bail it out.' + +"It was a boat that I saw. It moved on so swiftly,--the chime of the +oars, tiny oars they were, was so sweetly, softly musical, the very +drippling drops fell so like globules of silver, that I forgot my +mission. I held my oars and waited. At last--how long it seemed!--I saw +the boat come into the bridge of light. I saw fair, golden hair let +loose to the sea-breezes that began to blow. I saw two hands striving +with the oars. I saw the owner of the hair and of the hands, a young +girl, sitting in that boat, coming right across the way where I ought +to be going. "'Does she mean to stay me?' I said, and even then my will +rose up. + +"I bent to the oars; but whilst I had watched her, my boat had been +rapidly filling. I was forced to stay. My feet were already in the +waves. Right across my pathway she came, close up to my filling boat. + +"Her eyes were in the shadow, the moon being behind, but her voice rang +out these words:-- + +"'Mr. Axtell, you're committing a great sin. You're putting your own +life in peril. You're killing your mother. I have come to stay you. Will +you come on shore?' + +"I only looked at her. When I found voice, it was to ask,-- + +"'Who are you?' + +"'Who I am doesn't matter now. Drowning men mustn't ask questions'; and, +putting one oar within my boat, now more than half filled, she drew her +own to its side, and said,--"'Come in.' + +"'Conquered by a woman,' I thought. 'Never!'--and I began to search for +the cup, that I might give back to the sea its intruding contents. + +"I had left it in the other boat. + +"'Conquered by thine own sin,' said the young girl, still holding fast +to my boat. + +"'Not so easily, fairy, or whoe'er thou art,' I said; for I saw that her +boat was well furnished with both bailing-bowl and sponge, and I reached +out for them, saying, 'I'm going on the track, farther out.' + +"She divined my intent, and quick as was my thought were her two hands; +she cast both bowl and sponge into the sea. + +"'Mr. Axtell,' she said; 'there's a power in the world greater than your +own. The sooner you yield, the less you'll feel the thorns. Your mother, +on the shore, is suffering agonies for you. Will you come into this +boat, now?' + +"The boats had floated around a little, and had changed places. I looked +into her eyes; there was nothing there that said, 'I'm trying to conquer +you.' There was something in them that I had never seen made visible on +earth before,--something radiant, with a might of right, that made me +yield. She saw that I was coming. I lifted my feet out of the inches of +water that had nearly filled it, put my oars across her tiny boat, and, +leaving my own River-Ribbon to its fate, I entered that wherein my +preserver had come out. I took the oars from her passive hands; she went +to the front of the boat and left me master of the small ship. I turned +its prow homeward. My preserver sat motionless, her eyes in the moon, +for aught of notice she took of me. I was going toward the river; she +bade me keep to the bay-shore, at the right. I obeyed. No more words +were spoken until we were almost to land. I saw a little bulb afloat. +The boat went near. I put out my oar and drew it in. It was the +althea-bud that I had offered to the sea-nymphs. + +"'The mermaids refuse my offering,' I said; 'will you accept it?'--and +I handed it, dripping with salt-water, to the fairy who sat so silently +before me. + +"She took it, pointed to a little sheltered cove between two outstanding +ledges of rock, and said,-- + +"'This is boatie's home,--see if you can guide her safely in.' + +"The keel grated on the gravelly beach, the boat struck home. The young +girl did not wait for me, she landed first, and, handing me a tiny key, +said,-- + +"'Draw my boat up out of reach of the tide, make it fast, please,'--and +she sped away into the dreamy darkness of the land, whose shadows the +moon did not yet reach, leaving me alone on the shore. + +"I obeyed her orders implicitly, and then followed. It was not far from +this sheltered cove that I met those with whom I had come. My mother was +sitting upon one of the sea-shore rocks, passive, but stony. The young +girl had just been speaking to her, she must have been saying that 'I +was come back,' but my mother had not heeded. It was only in sight that +her reason came, but, oh! such a deluge of gladness came to her when she +saw me! + +"'I was dying,' she said; 'you've come back to save me, Abraham.' + +"My father did not speak then, he lifted my mother from off the stone, +and together we three walked home. Lettie lingered, the shadow with her. +Was that the young girl? I could not quite discern." + +Mr. Axtell stopped in his narration, walked out of the village of Dead +Percivals, and to his mother's new-made grave. He came back soon. + +"Miss Percival," he said, "two days ago you said, 'it was the strangest +thing that ever you saw man do, to dig his mother's grave.' It was a +work begun long ago; the first stroke was that August night; it is +nearly nineteen years ago. What do you think of it now?" + +"As I thought then, Mr. Axtell." + +He stood near me now. He went on. + +"That young girl saved my life that night, Miss Percival. Ere we reached +home, a violent, sudden thunder-storm came down, with wind and rain, and +terrible strokes of lightning. We took shelter in another house than +home. Lettie and my preserver followed." + +Another long pause came, a gathering together of the forces of his +nature, typical of the still hotness of the August night of which he +spoke, and after the ominous rest he emitted ponderous words. They came +like crackles of rattling electricity. I could taste it. + +"Miss Percival, look at me one moment." + +I obeyed. + +"Do I look like a murderer?" + +"I don't know." + +"Don't turn your eyes away; do you know what certain words in this world +mean?" + +"Signal one, and I will answer." + +He looked so leonic that I felt the least bit in the world like running +away, but decided to stay, as he was just within my pathway of escape. + +"Do you know what it is, what it means, when a human soul calls out from +its highest heights to another mortal, 'Thou art mine'?" + +I do not think he expected an answer, but I answered a round, full, +truthful, "No." + +"Then let it be the theme of thanksgiving," he said. "That fair young +girl is here now. I feel her sacred presence. She does not save me from +my imperious will. + +"Do you know, Miss Percival," he suddenly resumed, "do you know that you +are here with Abraham Axtell, a man who has destroyed two lives: one +slowly, surely, through years of suffering; the other, oh! the other--by +a flash from God's wrath, and for eighteen years my soul has cried out +to her, 'Thou art mine,' and yet there is no response on earth, there +can be none? Would you know the name of my preserver that night, +come,"--and, bending down, he offered his hand to assist me in rising. + +I had no faith in this man's murderousness, whatever he might have done. +He led me around to the head-stone of the grave which he had asked my +knowledge of. Before I could see, he passed his hand across my eyes: how +cold it was! + +"When you see the name recorded here," he said, "you will know who saved +me that August night, whom my terrible will destroyed, drinking her +young life up in one fell cup." + +His hand was withdrawn for one moment; my sight was blinded with the +cold pressure on my eyes; then I read,-- + + MARY, + DAUGHTER OF + JULIUS AND MARY PERCIVAL, + + DIED + AUGUST 30th, 1843, + AGED + 17 YEARS. + +"My sister," I said + +"Your sister, whom I killed." + +"Ere I was old enough to know her." + +"Have you one drop of mercy for him who destroyed your sister?" he +asked,--and his haughty will was suffused in pleading. + +I thought of the third figure in the celestial picture, as it gazed upon +the outstretched hand, and I said,-- + +"God hath not made me your judge; why should I refuse mercy?" + +A flash of intuition came. The young girl, whose portrait was in the +house of the Axtells, whose face had been next my mother's, who asked me +to do something for her on the earth,--could they all be manifestations +of Mary? + +"Who painted the portrait in your house?" I asked. + +"My will," he said; "I am no artist." + +"Is it like Mary?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I have this day seen her." + +He looked up, great tears falling from his eyes, and asked,-- + +"Where?" + +I took him to the gallery of the clouds, and showed him my vision, and +repeated the words spoken to me up there, the words for him only,--the +others were full of mystery still. He held seemingly no part therein. + +"Will a murderer's prayer add one ray of joy to the angel who has come +out on the sea to save me,--me, twice saved, oh! why?"--and Mr. Axtell +laid his hand upon my head in blessing. + +"Twice saved," I said, "that the third salvation may be Christ's." + +Solemnly came the "Amen" from his lips, tremulous as the bridge of light +he had once passed over. + +"Good-bye, Mr. Axtell; I shall fulfil Mary's wish for you, if you will +let me;" and I offered him my hand for this second parting: the first +had been when he went out alone to his mother's burial. + +He looked at it, as he then had done, uncomprehending, and said only,-- + +"Will I let you?" + +He gathered up the cushion, and carried it to the church. I closed the +gate that shut in this silent city, and went to the parsonage. + + * * * * * + +The sun had gone down,--the night was coming on. I found Aaron pacing +the verandah with impatient steps. He asked where I had been. I told +him. + +"It is very well that you are going so soon," he said,--"you are getting +decidedly ghostly. Will you take a walk with me?" + +I was thankful for the occasion. As might have been expected, Aaron +chose the way that led to the solemn old house. I was amused. + +"Where are you going?" I questioned. + +"To inquire after our early-morning patient," he said. + +"And not to see Mrs. Aaron Wilton?" + +Aaron looked the least mite retributive, as he said,-- + +"Anna, there are mysteries in life." + +"As, why Aaron was chosen before Moses," I could not help suggesting. +Sophie had had an opportunity of being Mrs. Moses, instead of Mrs. +Aaron. + +"Sophie's wise; you are not, Anna, I fear." + +"Your fear may be the beginning of my wisdom, Aaron: I hope so." + +With the exception of a return to the subject on which Aaron had +questioned me at breakfast, and on which he elicited no further +information from me, nothing of interest occurred until we were within +the place that held Sophie's pearly self. + +She had been a shower of sunshine, letting fall gold and silver drops +through all the house. I saw them, heard their sweet glade-like music +rippling everywhere, the moment that I went in. + +Mr. Axtell was pacing the hall in the evening twilight, and the little +of lamp-lustre that was shed into it. + +He looked passively calm, heroically enduring, as we went past him. From +his eyes came scintillations of a joy whose root is not in our planet. + +He simply said,-- + +"Mrs. Wilton is with my sister; she will be glad to see you." + +We went on. Sophie had made a very nest of repose in the sick-room. Miss +Axtell looked so comfortable, so untired of life, so changed from the +first glimpse I had had of her, when I thought her face might be such as +would be found under Dead-Sea waves. There was no more of the anxious +unrest. She spoke to Mr. Wilton, thanking him for the "good gift," she +named Sophie, that he had lent to her. + +Miss Lettie called me to her. She wished to say something to me only. I +bent my head to listen. + +"I am ill," she said,--"better just now, but I feel that it will be +weeks before I shall leave this place; it is good for me to be here, but +this troubles me,--I don't like to think that I must take care of it; +will you guard it sacredly for me?--and the letter of last night, add it +to the others." + +She gave me a small package, carefully closed, and I saw that it was +sealed. + +From her manner, I fancied it was to be known to me alone, and, +concealing it, I said,-- + +"I will keep it securely for you." + +Sophie came playfully up, and said,-- + +"Now, Anna, I'm empress here; no secret negotiations to overthrow my +power." + +"I'm just going to say good-bye to Miss Axtell," I said, "for I am going +home to-morrow;" and I told her of the letter from father, that I had +received. + +Sophie got up a charming storm of regret and wrath, neither at my father +for sending for me, nor at myself for going, but for the mysterious +third personality that created the need for my departure. + +Miss Lettie seemed to regret my coming absence still more than Sophie. + +"I wanted you so much," she said; "if I had only had you long ago, life +would have been changed," she whispered again, as Sophie turned to +listen to some pretty nonsense that the grave minister poured into her +ears through those windings of softly purplish hair. + +"Will you make me one promise, only one?" said Miss Axtell. + +I hesitated,--for promises are my religious fear, I do not like to +make promises. They are like mile-stones to a thunder-storm. They note +distances when the spirit is anxious only to cycle time and space. + +She looked so earnest, so persuasive, that I yielded, and said that +"consistency should be my only requirement." + +"It is not so immensely inconsistent, my Anemone; it is only that I want +you to come back again. Two weeks will satisfy your father. Will you +come to me on the twenty-fifth of March?" + +"What for?" with my awkward persistency in questioning, I asked. + +"Why, because I want to see you,--I wish you to write a letter for +me,--and more than all, I want an advocate." + +I, smiling at the triplet of occasions, promised to come, if consistent. + +Sophie was going home. She came up to drop a few last cheery words, to +fall into the coming hours of night. + +"You see how you've spoiled me by kindness, Mrs. Wilton," Miss Lettie +said. "I presume still further: I would like to see old Chloe; it is a +long, long time since I've seen her. Would you let her come?" Sophie +said that "it would renew Chloe's youth; she certainly would send her." + +Good-byes were spoken, and we went down. Mr. Axtell was still treading +the hall below. He thanked Sophie for her kindness to Miss Lettie, shook +hands genially with Aaron, looked at me, and we were gone. + +I carried Miss Lettie's message to Chloe. She lifted up those great +African orbs of hers as she might have done to the Mountains of the Moon +in her native land. + +"Now the heavens be praised!" said the honest soul,--"what for can that +icy lady want to see old Chloe?" + +I had carried the message under cover of one from my own heart. I knew +that Chloe had lived with my mother until she died. I knew that she must +know something regarding Mary, my sister, to whom, in all my life, I had +scarcely given one thought, who died ere I was wise enough to know her. +And so I began by asking,-- + +"Am I like my sister who died, Chloe?" + +She brought back her eyes from gazing upon the lunar mountains. + +"I don't know's you are 'xactly; but somehow you _did_ look like her, +up-stairs to-day, when you had them white things tied on your head." + +"Were you here when she died?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes!"--old Chloe closed her eyes,--"it is one of the blessed things +Chloe's Lord will let her 'member, up there;" and Chloe wiped her eyes, +_in memoriam_. + +"I don't remember her," I said. + +"No, how should you? you were wee little then." + +"What made her die, Chloe?" + +"I reckon 't was because the angels wanted her more 'n me, Miss Anna." + +"Was she sick, Chloe?" + +"How queer you questions, Miss Anna! Of course she was sick; she drooped +in the August heat; they didn't think she was very sick; the master gave +her some medicine one night, and left her sleeping, quiet as a lamb, and +before morning came she went to heaven." + +"Who was the master, Chloe?" + +"Why, you _is_ getting stupid-like, child! Honey darling, don't you +know that Master Percival, your father, was my master ever so many +years?"--and she began notating them upon her fingers. + +I interrupted the mathematical calculation by telling Chloe that three +people were waiting for their tea. + +"Two of 'em is my dear childers," said Chloe,--who never would accept +Aaron, even with all his goodness, into her heart; and she moved about +with accelerated velocity in her daily orbit. + +What could Mr. Axtell have meant by saying that he had killed Mary, +who, Chloe had assured me, died peaceably in her father's house? After +disturbing the equilibrium of thought-realm, and nearly giving my mind a +new axis of revolution, I decided to think no more of it. I could +not, would not, believe that Abraham Axtell had gone up any Moriah of +sacrifice, and been permitted to let fall the knife upon his victim. His +life must have been a dream, an illusion; he only wanted awakening to +existence. And the memory of my Sabbath-morning's vision dwelt with me, +and the voice that speaketh, filling the soul "as a sea-shell is with +murmuring," said, "Your finger will awaken him." And I looked down at +my two passive hands, and asked, "Which one of them?" And the murmuring +voice startled me with the answer, "Two are required,--one of +reconciliation, the other of forgiveness." Whereupon I lifted up the ten +that Nature gave, and said, "Take them all, if need be."---- + +"Tea is ready," said Aaron, peeping in, his face alive with satisfied +muscles, playing too merry a tune of joy, I thought, for a grave +minister. + +"Sophie's a magician," I thought for the thousandth time, as, for the +millionth, Aaron looked at her sitting so demurely regal at his spread +table. + +"What would these two good people say," I asked myself, in thinking, +"if they knew all that I have learned in my visit, not yet a week +long?"--and I ran up and down in the scale of semibreves and minims that +I had heard, with the one long, sweet trill transfusing life on earth +into heavenly existence, and I felt very wingy, very much as if I could +take up the tower, standing high and square out there, and carry it, +"like Loretto's chapel, through the air to the green land," where my +spirit would go singing evermore. I could not tell what my joy was like: +not unto anything that I had seen upon the earth; under the earth I had +not yet been; only once above it, and they were calmly celestial there. +I was turbulently joyous, and so I winged a little while around Sophie +and Aaron, hummed a good-night in Chloe's ears, and found that the canny +soul was luxuriating in the idea that the icy lady was to be thawed into +the acceptance of sundry confections which she was basketing to carry +with her when I went out. + +"Call me early," I said; "you know I leave at seven o'clock." + +"I shall be up ever so early, Miss Anna; never fear for Chloe's sleeping +late to-morrow in the morning; you get ever so much,--'nuff for Chloe +and you too; good-night, honey!"--and Chloe went on her mission, whilst +Aloes and Honey went up-stairs, past Aaron's study, and into a room +where the mysterious art of packing must be practised for a little. + +I thought of the "breadths of silver and skirts of gold" that I had seen +the Day pack away; and, inspired with the thought, fell to folding less +amberous raiment, until, my duty done, I pressed the cover down, and +locked my treasures in, for the journey of the morrow. Then I took out +my sacred gift to guard, and, laying it before me, looked at it. It was +of dimensions scarcely larger than the moon,--that is, extremely variant +and uncertain: to one, a planet, larger than Jupiter, moons and all; to +another, scarcely more than a bridal ring. So my packet was of uncertain +size: _undoubtedly_ the tower was packed away in it, Herbert too,--and I +couldn't help agreeing with my thought, and confessing that this was a +better form for conveyance than that I so lately had planned; so I put +it safely away, with myself, until the day should come. The day-star had +arisen in my heart. Would it ever go down? Not whilst He who holdeth the +earth in the hollow of His hand hath me there too. Reaching out, once +more, for the strong protective fibres that had so blessed me, I +wandered forth with it into the land whose mural heights are onychites +and mocha-stones of mossy mystery. + +How long I might have lingered there I know not,--so delicious was the +fragrance and so fair the flowers,--had not Chloe's voice broken the +mocha-stones, scattering the mosses like autumn-leaves. + +"Honey, I thought I'd waken ye,--the day is just cracking," said Chloe, +at the door, and she asked me to open it one moment. + +When I had done so, there she stood, just as I had seen her when I bade +her good-night,--save that her basket was void of contents. + +"Master Abraham didn't know you was going home," Chloe said, "or he'd +have told you good-bye; and I guesses he sent what he didn't tell, for +he asked me to give you this." + +When Chloe was gone, I opened the small package. It was a pretty casket, +made of the margarite of the sea. Within it lay a faded, fallen, +fragmentary thing. At first, I knew not what it could be. It was the +althea-bud that grew in the summer-time of eighteen years ago, that +had been Mary's,--and my heart beat fast as I looked upon the silent +voicefulness that spake up to me, and said, "To you, who have restored +him to himself, he offers the same tribute;" and I lifted up the +iridescent, flashing cradle of margarite, and reverently touched +the ashes of althea it held with my lips. Afterwards they were +salt,--whether with the saltness of the sea the bud had been baptized +in, or of the tears that I let fall, I knew not. + +I folded up my good-bye from Mr. Axtell in the same precious package +that was his sister's, and, side by side, the two journeyed on with me. + + * * * * * + +It was seven of the clock on Monday morning when she who said the +naughty words, and the grave minister, came out to say farewell to me. +The day's great round was nearly done ere I met my father's flowery +welcome. + +"My Myrtle-Vine, I knew you'd come," said Dr. Percival; and his long +gray hair floated out to reach me in, and his eyes, wherein all love +burned iridescent, drew me toward his heart. + +My father put his arms around me, and said the sweetest words of welcome +that ever are spoken. + +"How I've missed you, Anna!" as he drew me toward his large arm-chair, +and folded me, his latest child, to his heart. + +As thus we were sitting in the silence of the heart that needs no +language, little Jeffy, my ebony-beauty boy, darted his black head +in, and reposing it for one instant against the scarcely lighter-hued +mahogany of the door, jingled out, in shells of sound,-- + +"He's mighty fur'ous. It's real fun. I guess you'd better come right up, +Dr. Percival;" and the ebon head darted off, without one word for me. + +Why was it that this little omission of Jeffy's, the African boy, should +create a vacancy? Oh! it is because Nature made me so exacting. I wanted +everybody to welcome me. + +I lifted my head from my father's shoulder, and asked, in some dismay,-- + +"What is it, father?" + +"I've gotten myself in trouble, Anna. I've let chaos into my house. I +wanted you to help me." + +"What is it? what has happened?" I hastened to inquire. + +"Only a hospital patient that I was foolish enough to bring away. I +heartily wish that he was back again," said my father; and he put me +from him to go, in obedience to the summons. + +I was about to follow him, but he waved me back as I went into the hall, +and he went on. I heard the ring of a low, frenzied laugh, as I began +unwrapping from my journey. My casket of treasures I had committed to +bands for keeping. Now I laid it down, and, folding up my protective +robes, I had just gone to try my father's easy-chair, alone, when +Jeffy's ebon head struck in again. + +"I didn't see ye afore, Miss Anna. I'so mighty glad you've come;" and +Jeffy atoned for his former omission by his present joy. + +"How is he?" I questioned Jeffy, as if I knew all the antecedents of the +case perfectly. + +"Oh, he's jolly to-night. I think Master Percival might have let me stay +to see the fun;" and Jeffy's eyes rolled to and fro in their orbits, as +if anxious to strike against some wandering comet. + +"Is tea over?" I asked. + +"No, miss. Master said he'd wait for you. I'll go and tell that you're +here;" and Jeffy took himself off, eager for action. + +He was not long gone. + +"It's all ready, waiting a bit for master. He can't come down just this +minute," said Jeffy. "Look a here, Miss Anna,--isn't it vastly funny +master's bringing a crazy man here? They say down in the kitchen, that +as how it wouldn't 'a' been, if you'd been home. It's real good, though. +It's the splendidest thing that's happened. Wait till you see him +perform. Ask him to sing. It's frolicky to hear him." + +The boy went on, and I did not stop him. I was as anxious for +information as he to impart it. When he paused for breath, in the width +of detail that he furnished, I asked,-- + +"When was this stranger brought here?" + +"Three days ago, Miss Anna, I hope he'll stay forever and ever;" and +Jeffy darted off at a mellifluous sound that dropped down from above. + +"There! he has thrown the poker at the mirror again, I do believe," said +another voice in the hall, and I recognized the housekeeper. + +Staid Mrs. Ordilinier came in to greet me, with the uniform greeting of +her lifetime. I verily believe that she has but one way of receiving. +Electricity and bread-and-butter would meet the same recognitory +reception. + +"Did you hear that noise, Miss Anna?" she said, as another sound came, +that was vastly like the shivering of glass. + +"What was it, Mrs. Ordilinier?" + +I gave her the question to gain information. I sought it,--but she, not +disposed to gratify me at the moment, slowly ascended to ascertain the +state of mirrors above. She met my father's silver hairs coming down. He +did not say one word to her. He met me in the hall, took me back to the +room, and, reseating me in my olden place, put his hand upon my head, +and said,-- + +"This must help me, Anna." + +"It will, papa; what is it?" + +"I've a crazy man up-stairs. He can't do very much harm, for he is badly +injured." + +"How?" I asked. + +"Railroad accident. Four days ago, locomotive and two passenger-cars off +the track, down forty feet upon the rocks and stones, and all there was +of a river," my father replied, with evident regret that the company had +been so unfortunate, as well as his individual self. + +"Who is it?" was my next question. + +"Don't know, darling; haven't the least idea. He has the softest brown, +curling hair of his own, with a wig over it. Can't find out his name, or +anything about him. I like him, though, Anna. He's like somebody! used +to know. I brought him here from the hospital, several days ago, but he +hasn't given me much peace since, and the people down below think I'm as +crazy as he; but I cannot help it; I will not turn him out now." + +"Of course you wouldn't, father. We'll manage him superbly. I'll chain +him for you." + +My father rose up, comforted by my words, and said "it was time for +tea." We went down. I was the Sophie of Aaron's home, at my father's +table. + +"Papa," I said, as if introducing the most ordinary topic of +conversation, "what was the occasion of sister Mary's death? She was +only seventeen. How young to die!" + +My father sighed, and said,-- + +"Yes, it was young. She had fever, Anna. One of those long, low fevers +that mislead one. I did not think she would die." + +"Was Mary engaged to be married, father?" + +Dr. Percival looked up at his daughter Anna with the look that says, +"You're growing old," although she was twenty-three, and never had gone +so far in life as his eldest daughter at seventeen. + +"She was, Anna." + +"To whom, father?" + +"Perhaps you've seen him, Anna. I hear that he is come home. His name is +Axtell,--Abraham Axtell." + +I told my father of the first words,--where we had found him, tolling +the bell,--and of his mother's death, and his sister's illness. + +"Incomprehensible people!" was my father's sole ejaculation, as he went +to look after the deranged patient. + +I occupied myself for an hour in picking up the reins of government that +I had thrown down when I went to Redleaf. Looking into "our room," +and not finding father there, I went on, up to my own room. A warm, +welcoming fire burned within the grate. I thought, "How good father is +to think for me!" and with the thought there entered in another. It came +in the sudden consciousness that the room was prepared for some one else +than me. I glanced about it, and saw the strange, wild man, with eyes +all aglow, looking at me from out the depths of my wonted place of rest. +No one else was in the room. I turned around to leave, but, dropping my +precious box of margarite, I stooped to pick it up. + +"It is a good harbor to sail into. I'm content," said the voice from the +corner, before I could escape. + +I met father coming in. + +"Why, how is this?" he said to me. + +"You didn't tell me you had given up my room," I said. + +"Didn't I? Well, I forgot. We couldn't take him higher." + +"Is he so much hurt?" I asked. + +"Three broken bones," my father replied. "It will be weeks, it may be +months, before he will be well;" and he sighed hopelessly at the good +deed, which, being done, pressed so heavily. "Don't look so sadly about +it, Myrtle-Vine," he added; "take my room, if you like." + +"That was not my thought," I said. "I do not mind the change of room." + +The visit to Redleaf, which I had made to dawn in my horizon, was +eclipsed by three broken bones, that suddenly undermined the arch of +consistency. + +Soothingly came the words that were spoken unto me. My father was +all-willing to relinquish his cherished room,--his for sixteen years, +and opening into that mysterious other room,--to give it up to me, his +Myrtle-Vine; and a momentary pang that any interest in existence should +be, except as circling around him, flew across the future, "the science +whereof is to man but what the shadow of the wind might be,"--and I +looked up into his eyes, and, twining his long white hair around my +fingers, for a moment felt that forever and forever he should be the +supreme object of earthly devotion. In my wish to evince the sentiment +in action, I requested permission to assist in the care of the hospital +patient. + +"Oh, no, Anna! he is too wild now. When the excitement of the fever is +gone, then will be your time." + +Another of those many-toned, circling peals of laughter came from my +room. My father went in. I went past the place that mortal eyes were not +permitted to fathom, and, for the first time in my life, was curious to +know its contents, and why I had never seen the interior thereof, I had +grown up with the mystery, until I had accepted it, unquestioning, as a +thing not for my view, and therefore out of recognition. It was as far +away from me as the open sea of the North, and might contain the mortal +remains of all the navigators of Hope that ever had wandered into the +sea of Time for him who so holily guarded it. + +"One far-away Indian-summery day, four years agone," "while yet the day +was young," Dr. Percival, my father, had led an azure-eyed maiden in +through the mysterious entrance, and shown unto her the veiled temple, +its altar and its shrine, and she had come thence with the dew of +feeling in her eyes and a purple haze around her brow, which she has +worn there until it has tangled its pansy-web into an abiding-place, +unto such time as the light is shut out forever, or the waves from the +silver sea curl their mist up thither. I had much marvel then concerning +the hidden mysteries; but Sophie so soon thereafter spake the naughty "I +will," that the silent room forgot to speak to me. I have never heard +sound thence since that morning-time. + +"Why does not my father take me in? Am I not his child, even as Sophie?" + +I asked these questions of Anna Percival, the while she stood at an +upper window, and looked out over New York's surging lines of life. +The roar of rolling wheels came muffled by distance and the shore of +dwelling-places over which I looked. I counted the church-spires that +threaded the vault of night a little of the upward way. How angels, that +have lived forever in heaven, and souls just free from material things, +must reach down to touch these towering masts, that tell which way the +sails of spirit bend! These city churches, dedicated with solemn service +unto the worship of the great I AM, the Lord God of Adam, the Jehovah +Jireh of Israelites, the Holy Redeemer of Christians,--may the Lord of +heaven and earth bless them _every one_! I looked forth upon them with +tears. There never comes a time, in the busiest hurry of human ways, +that I do not sprinkle a drop of love upon the steps as I pass,--that I +do not wind a tendril of holy feeling up to height of tower or summit of +spire for the great winds to waft onward and upward. God pity the heart +that does not involuntary reverence to God's templed places, made sacred +a thousand fold by every penitential tear, by every throb of devotion, +by every aspiration after the divine existence, from which let down a +little while, we wander, for what we know not! God doth not tell, save +that it is to "love first Him, Sole and Individual," and then the +fragments, the crumbs of Divinity that dwell in Man. + +I had not lighted the gas. The street-lamps sent up their rays, making +the room semi-lucent. I took out my tower-key. What matter, if I held +the cold iron thereof to my lips awhile? there was no frost in the March +air then. I sent my restless fingers in and out of the wards, prisoning +them often therein. As thus I stood, with cheek pressed against the +windowpane, looking out upon the city, set into a rim of darkness, from +out of which it flashed its million rays, papa came up. + +"I didn't say good-night," he said, coming in, and to the window where +I was. "But how is this, Anna? what has happened to my child? "--and he +pointed to shining drops that glistened on the window-glass. + +They must have come from my eyes; I could not deny their authorship, and +so I confessed to tears of gladness at seeing him once more. + +He looked fondly down at me through the dim light. I asked him after the +tenant of my premises. He shook his head as one does in great doubt, +said "life was uncertain," and repeated several other axioms, that were +quite apart from his original style, and excessively annoying to me. + +"Papa," I said, "why not tell me truly? will this man recover?" + +"'Man proposes, God disposes,' my child," he said. + +"I don't dispute the general truth," I replied,--"but, particularly, is +this man's life in danger?" + +He began to quote somebody's psalm or hymn about "fitful fevers and +fleeting shadows." + +My father has a fine, rich, variant power of sound with which to charm +such as have ears to hear, and Anna Percival has been so endowed. +Therefore she listened and waited to the end. When it came, she looked +up into her father's face and said,-- + +"Papa, I am not a child, to be coaxed into forgetfulness; why will you +not trust me? I am older than Sophie was when you took her in where I +have not been; why will you not make me your friend?"--and some sudden +collision of watery powers among the window-drops, whether from +accretion or otherwise, sent a glistening rivulet down to the barrier of +the sash. + +Papa folded his arms, and looked at me. I could not bear to be thus shut +out. I said so. + +"Could you bear to be shut in?" he thought, and asked it. + +"I think I could. I could bear anything that you gave me; I could keep +anything that you intrusted to my keeping." + +Papa looked at me as one does at a cherished vine the outermost edges of +which are just frost-touched; then he folded me to his heart. I felt the +throbbings thereof, and mine began to regret that I had intruded into +the vestibule of his sacred temple; but a certain something went +whispering within me, "You can feed the sacred fire," and I whispered to +the whispering voice, and to my father's ear,-- + +"You'll take me in, won't you?" + +"Come," was the only spoken word. + +The room was not cheery; he felt it, and said,-- + +"You see what the effect is when my Myrtle-Vine is off my walls;" and he +tossed aside books and papers that had evidently been astray for days, +and lay now in his way. + +Papa took a key (he wears it too, it seems: that is even more than I do +with my tower's) from a tiny chain of gold about his neck, and unlocked +the door connecting this silent room with his own. He went in, leaving +me outside. He lighted a candle and left it burning there. He came, took +my hand, and, with the leading whereby we guide a child, conducted me in +thither. Then he went out and left me standing, bewildered, there. + +I had anticipated something wonderful. What was here? It was a silent +room. The carpet had a river-pattern meandering over its dark-blue +ground: it must have been years since a broom went over it. Strange +medley of furniture was here. I looked upon the walls. Pictures that +must have come from another race and generation hung there. There were +many of them. One side of the room held one only. It was a portrait. I +remembered the original in life. "My mother," I exclaimed. In the room's +centre, surrounded by various articles, was the very boat that I knew +Mary Percival had guided out to sea to save Abraham Axtell. Two tiny +oars lay across it. The paint was faded; the seams were open; it would +hold water no longer. A sense of worship filled me. I looked up at the +portrait. My mother smiled: or was it my fancy? Fancy undoubtedly; but +fancies give comfort sometimes. I looked again at the boat. On its +stern, in small, golden letters, was the name, "Blessing of the Bay," +the very name given to the first boat built after the Mayflower's keel +touched America's shore. "The name was a good omen," I thought. An +armchair stood before the portrait. A shawl was spread over it. I lifted +up the fringe to see what the shawl covered. Papa had come in. + +"Don't do that, Anna," he said. + +"Is it any harm, papa?" + +"Your mother died sitting in that chair; her hands spread the shawl over +it; it was the last work they did, Anna; it has never since been taken +off." + +I dropped the fringe; my touch seemed sacrilegious. + +Near the chair was a small cabinet; it looked like an altar, or would +have done so, had my father been a devotee to any religion requiring +visible sacrifice. He opened it. + +"Come hither, Anna,"--and I went. + +Long, luxuriant bands of softly purplish hair lay within, upon the place +of sacrifice. + +"Sophie's is like this," I said. + +"And Sophie wears one like unto this," said my father; and he took up +a circlet of shining gold that lay among the tresses. "Sophie's +marriage-ring was hallowed unto her. I gave it the morning she went out +from me." He uttered these words with slow reverence of voice. + +Why did self come up? + +"You gave Sophie _our_ mother's marriage-ring," I said, "and I"-- + +"Shall wear this," said my father. "I laid it here, with hers;" and he +gently lifted the sacred hair, and, freeing the ring, put it upon my +finger. + +"This is not my marriage-day," I said. "Papa, I don't want it. Besides, +gentlemen don't wear marriage-rings: how came you to?" + +"Perhaps I have not worn this one; but will you wear it to please me?" + +"Why will it please you? It is not symbolical, is it?" + +"It makes you doubly mine," he said; and he led me back to outside life, +with this strange sort of marriage-ring circling with its planet weight +around my finger. + +Did my father mean to keep me forever? And with the question came an +answer that left sweet contentment in its pathway; it accorded with the +intent of my heart. + +"Father, have you made me your friend?" I asked, in the room that was +terribly tossed, as I restored to place chairs that seemed to have been +in a deplorably long dance, and to have forgotten their home at its +close. + +"You wear my ring, you have come into my orbit," he answered. + +"That being true, I am as much interested in the flying comet in there +as you are,--for if it strikes you, it hurts me;" and I waited his +answer. + +After a moment of pause, it came. + +"My poor patient is very ill; his life will burn out, if the fever is +not stayed;" and as the frenzied laugh reached us, Dr. Percival forgot +my presence; he passed his hand slowly across his brow, as if to retouch +memory, and then taking down a volume, he began to read. I waited long. +At last he closed the book suddenly, said to himself, "I'll try it," and +in half a moment my father's white hairs were separated from me by the +impassable barrier of the sick-room. + +I waited; he did not come. The chairs were not the only articles that +had lost the commodity of order in my absence. I went to the table upon +which were kept the papers, etc., that lingered there a little while, +and then were thought no longer of. Idly I turned them over. What a +chaos on a small scale! all the elements of literature were represented. +I listened for coming footsteps; none came. "I may as well arrange this +table," I thought, "as wait for the morrow;" and I made a beginning by +sweeping the chaos at once upon the carpet. Then slowly I began picking +them up, one by one, and appointing them stations. My task was nearly +done, when, in turning over some magazines, I came upon a pile of papers +that had been laid between the leaves of one, and ere I was aware of +their presence, they slid down and scattered. I remember having felt +a little surprise that my father should have left them there, but I +hastened to gather them together. The last one of the number, I noticed, +was torn; it had a foreign look. "Father has some new correspondent," I +thought, as I looked at the number of mail-marks upon it. "He doesn't +think much of it, though, or it would have received better treatment;" +and I took a second look at it. A something in the feel of the paper +seemed familiar. "It is good for nothing," I said aloud, and I tossed +it toward the grate, put the pile of papers where I had found them, +surveyed my work with satisfaction, and stood thinking whether or not I +should wait to see my father again--it was more than an hour since +he went up--to say good-night to me. "I will wait a half-hour; if he +doesn't come then, I'll go," I said to the housekeeper, who came to see +that all was right for the night, and to remind me that Redleaf had not +proved very advantageous to my complexion, and to recommend early hours +as a restorative. + +In accordance with my promise, I drew a chair forward, placed my feet +upon the fender, and began to study the dying embers that were slowly +falling through the grate-bars. One, larger than usual, burned its way +down. It lighted up, for an instant, the bit of paper, that had not +fallen into the coals. Strange fancy it was that led me to imagine +that I saw a capital A, followed immediately by that unknown quantity +represented by x. I made an effort to gain it, scorched my face, and +burned my fingers; for I touched the grate, in rescuing that which I had +cast into the place of burning. + +"This bit of paper, found in New York, had once been integral with that +I had found within the church-yard tower in Redleaf," some inner +voice assured me. "Yes, it is a part of it," I said, for I distinctly +remembered the fragment whose possession I had so rejoiced over. Some +one had written a letter to Miss Axtell; the envelope was torn,--one +part there, another here. The letter itself I had found in the gloom of +the passage-way; for it Miss Axtell had gone out to search, ill, and in +the night; what must its contents have been, to have been worthy of such +effort?--and for the time I quite forgot to connect this man, ill in my +father's house, with the Herbert whose far-out-at-sea voice I had heard +winding up at me through the very death-darkness of the tower. Suddenly +the consciousness scintillated in my soul, and wonderful it was; but the +picture of my dream came in with it, and I said again, "I am ready for +the work which is given me to do," and I waited for its coming till +I grew very weary, holding this fragment of envelope fast, as a ship +clings to its anchor in mild seas. I ventured to knock at the entrance +of my own room. All was silent within. I tried the second time. There +came no answer. I dared not venture on the conquering third. + + * * * * * + + +AT SYRACUSE. + + + All day my mule with patient tread + Had moved along the plain, + Now o'er the lava's ashen bed, + Now through the sprouting grain, + Across the torrent's rocky lair, + Beneath the aloe-hedge, + Where yellow broom makes sweet the air, + And waves the purple sedge. + + Lone were the hills, save where supine + The dozing goatherd lay, + Or, at a rude and broken shrine, + The peasant knelt to pray; + Or where athwart the distant blue + Thin saffron clouds ascend, + As Carbonari, hid from view, + Their smouldering embers tend. + + Luxuriant vale or sterile reach, + A mountain temple-crowned + Or inland curve of glistening beach, + The changeful scene surround; + While scarlet poppies burning near, + And citrons' emerald gleam, + Make barren intervals appear + Dim lapses of a dream. + + How meekly o'er the meadows gay + The azure flax-blooms spread! + What fragrance on the breeze of May + The almond-blossoms shed! + Wide-branching fig-trees deck the fields + Or round the quarries cling, + And cactus-stalks, with thorny shields, + In wild contortions spring. + + Here groves of cork dusk shadows throw, + There vine-leaves lightsome sway, + While chestnut-plumes serenely glow + Above the olives gray; + Tall pines upon the sloping meads + Their sylvan domes uprear, + And rankly the papyrus-reeds + Low cluster in the mere. + + And Syracuse with pensive mien, + In solitary pride, + Like an untamed, but throneless queen, + Crouched by the lucent tide; + With honeyed thyme still Hybla teemed, + Its scent each zephyr bore, + And Arethusa's fountain gleamed + Pellucid as of yore. + + Methought, upstarting from his bath, + Old Archimedes cried, + "Eureka!" in my silent path, + Whose echoes long replied; + That Pythias, in the sunset-glow, + Rushed by to Damon's arms, + While from the Tyrant's Cave below + Moaned impotent alarms. + + And where upon a sculptured stone + The ruined arch beside, + A hoary, bronzed, and wrinkled crone + The twirling distaff plied,-- + Love with exalted Reason fraught + In Plato's accents came, + And Truth by Paul sublimely taught + Relumed her virgin flame. + + The ancient sepulchres that rose + Along the voiceless street + Time's myriad vistas seemed to close + And bid life's waves retreat,-- + As if intrusive footsteps stole + Beyond their mortal sphere, + And felt the awed and eager soul + Immortal comrades near. + + The moss-grown ramparts loom in sight + Like warders of the deep, + Where, flushed with evening's amber light, + The havened waters sleep; + Unfurrowed by a Roman keel + Or Carthaginian oar, + The speared and burnished galleys now + Their slumber break no more. + + But when the distant convent-bell, + Ere Day's last smiles depart, + With mellow cadence pleading fell + Upon my brooding heart,-- + And Memory's phantoms thick and fast + Their fond illusions bred, + From peerless spirits of the past, + And wrecks of ages fled,-- + + Joy broke the spell; an emblem blest + That lonely harbor cheered: + As if to greet her pilgrim guest, + My country's flag appeared! + Its radiant folds auroral streamed + Amid that haunted air, + And every star prophetic beamed + With Freedom's triumph there! + + * * * * * + + +METHODS OF STUDY IN NATURAL HISTORY. + + +All important changes in the social and political condition of man, +whether brought about by violent convulsions or effected gradually, are +at once recognized as eras in the history of humanity. But on the broad +high-road of civilization along which men are ever marching, they pass +by unnoticed the landmarks of intellectual progress, unless they chance +to have some direct bearing on what is called the practical side of +life. Such an era marked the early part of our own century; and though +at the time a thousand events seemed more full-freighted for the world +than the discovery of some old bones at the quarry of Montmartre, and +though many a man seemed greater in the estimation of the hour than the +professor at the Jardin des Plantes who strove to reconstruct these +fragments, yet the story that they told lighted up all the past, and +showed its true connection with the present. Cuvier, as one sees him in +a retrospective glance at the wonderful period in which he lived, and +which brought to the surface all its greatest elements,--one among a +throng of exceptional men, generals, soldiers, statesmen, as well as +men of commanding intellect in literary and scientific pursuits,--seems +always standing at the meeting-point between the past and present. His +gaze is ever fixed upon the path along which Creation has moved, and, as +he travels back, recovering step by step the road that has been lost to +man in apparently impenetrable darkness and mystery, the light brightens +and broadens before him, and seems to tempt him on into the dim regions +where the great mystery of Creation lies hidden. + +Before the year 1800, men had never suspected that their home had been +tenanted in past times by a set of beings totally different from those +that inhabit it now; still farther was it from their thought to imagine +that creation after creation had followed each other in successive ages, +every one stamped with a character peculiarly its own. It was Cuvier +who, aroused to new labors by the hint he received from the bones +unearthed at Montmartre, to which all his vast knowledge of living +animals gave him no clue, established by means of most laborious +investigations the astounding conclusion, that, prior to the existence +of the animals and plants now living, this globe had been the theatre of +another set of beings, every trace of whom had vanished from the face of +the earth. To his alert and active intellect and powerful imagination a +word spoken out of the past was pregnant with meaning; and when he had +once convinced himself that he had found a single animal that had no +counterpart among living beings, it gave him the key to many mysteries. + +It may be doubted whether men's eyes are ever opened to truths which, +though new to them, are old to God, till the time has come when they +can apprehend their meaning and turn them to good account. It certainly +seems, that, when such a revelation has once been made, light pours in +upon it from every side; and this is especially true of the case in +point. The existence of a past creation once suggested, confirmation +was found in a thousand facts overlooked before. The solid crust of the +earth gave up its dead, and from the snows of Siberia, from the soil of +Italy, from caves of Central Europe, from mines, from the rent sides of +mountains and from their highest peaks, from the coral beds of ancient +oceans, the varied animals that had possessed the earth ages before man +was created spoke to us of the past. + +No sooner were these facts established, than the relation between the +extinct world and the world of to-day became the subject of extensive +researches and comparisons; innumerable theories were started to account +for the differences, and to determine the periods and manner of the +change. It is not my intention to enter now at any length upon the +subject of geological succession, though I hope to return to it +hereafter in a series of papers upon that and kindred topics; but I +allude to it here, before presenting some views upon the maintenance of +organic types as they exist in our own period, for the following reason. +Since it has been shown that from the beginning of Creation till the +present time the physical history of the world has been divided into +a succession of distinct periods, each one accompanied by its +characteristic animals and plants, so that our own epoch is only the +closing one in the long procession of the ages, naturalists have been +constantly striving to find the connecting link between them all, and to +prove that each such creation has been a normal and natural growth +out of the preceding one. With this aim they have tried to adapt the +phenomena of reproduction among animals to the problem of creation, and +to make the beginning of life in the individual solve that great mystery +of the beginning of life in the world. In other words, they have +endeavored to show that the fact of successive generations is analogous +to that of successive creations, and that the processes by which +animals, once created, are maintained unchanged during the period to +which they belong will account also for their primitive existence. + +I wish, at the outset, to forestall any such misapplication of the facts +I am about to state, and to impress upon my readers the difference +between these two subjects of inquiry,--since it by no means follows, +that, because individuals are endowed with the power of reproducing and +perpetuating their kind, they are in any sense self-originating. Still +less probable does this appear, when we consider, that, since man has +existed upon the earth, no appreciable change has taken place in the +animal or vegetable world; and so far as our knowledge goes, this would +seem to be equally true of all the periods preceding ours, each one +maintaining unbroken to its close the organic character impressed upon +it at the beginning. + +The question I propose to consider here is simply the mode by which +organic types are preserved as they exist at present. Every one has +a summary answer to this question in the statement, that all these +short-lived individuals reproduce themselves, and thus maintain their +kinds. But the modes of reproduction are so varied, the changes some +animals undergo during their growth so extraordinary, the phenomena +accompanying these changes so startling, that, in the pursuit of the +subject, a new and independent science--that of Embryology--has grown +up, of the utmost importance in the present state of our knowledge. + +The prevalent ideas respecting the reproduction of animals are made +up from the daily observation of those immediately about us in the +barn-yard and the farm. But the phenomena here are comparatively simple, +and easily traced. The moment we extend our observations beyond our +cattle and fowls, and enter upon a wider field of investigation, we are +met by the most startling facts. Not the least baffling of these are +the disproportionate numbers of males and females in certain kinds +of animals, their unequal development, as well as the extraordinary +difference between the sexes among certain species, so that they seem as +distinct from each other as if they belonged to separate groups of the +Animal Kingdom. We have close at hand one of the most striking instances +of disproportionate numbers in the household of the Bee, with its one +fertile female charged with the perpetuation of the whole community, +while her innumerable sterile sisterhood, amid a few hundred drones, +work for its support in other ways. Another most interesting chapter +connected with the maintenance of animals is found in the various ways +and different degrees of care with which they provide for their progeny: +some having fulfilled their whole duty toward their offspring when they +have given them birth; others seeking hiding-places for the eggs they +have laid, and watching with a certain care over their development; +others feeding their young till they can provide for themselves, and +building nests, or burrowing holes in the ground, or constructing earth +mounds for their shelter. + +But, whatever be the difference in the outward appearance or the habits +of animals, one thing is common to them all without exception: at some +period of their lives they produce eggs, which, being fertilized, give +rise to beings of the same kind as the parent. This mode of generation +is universal, and is based upon that harmonious antagonism between the +sexes, that contrast between the male and the female element, that at +once divides and unites the whole Animal Kingdom. And although this +exchange of influence is not kept up by an equality of numeric +relations,--since not only are the sexes very unequally divided in some +kinds of animals, but the male and female elements are even combined +in certain types, so that the individuals are uniformly +hermaphrodites,--yet I firmly believe that this numerical distribution, +however unequal it may seem to us, is not without its ordained accuracy +and balance. He who has assigned its place to every leaf in the thickest +forest, according to an arithmetical law which prescribes to each its +allotted share of room on the branch where it grows, will not have +distributed animal life with less care. + +But although reproduction by eggs is common to all animals, it is only +one among several modes of multiplication. We have seen that certain +animals, besides the ordinary process of generation, also increase their +number naturally and constantly by self-division, so that out of one +individual many individuals may arise by a natural breaking up of +the whole body into distinct surviving parts. This process of normal +self-division may take place at all periods of life: it may form an +early phase of metamorphosis, as in the Hydroid of our common Aurelia, +described in the last article; or it may even take place before the +young is formed in the egg. In such a case, the egg itself divides into +a number of portions: two, four, eight, or even twelve and sixteen +individuals being normally developed from every egg, in consequence of +this singular process of segmentation of the yolk,--which takes place, +indeed, in all eggs, but in those which produce but one individual is +only a stage in the natural growth of the yolk during its transformation +into a young embryo. As the facts here alluded to are not very familiar +even to professional naturalists, I may be permitted to describe them +more in detail. + +No one who has often walked across a sand-beach in summer can have +failed to remark what the children call "sand saucers." The name is not +a bad one, with the exception that the saucer lacks a bottom; but the +form of these circular bands of sand is certainly very like a saucer +with the bottom knocked out. Hold one of them against the light and you +will see that it is composed of countless transparent spheres, each of +the size of a small pin's head. These are the eggs of our common Natica +or Sea-Snail. Any one who remembers the outline of this shell will +easily understand the process by which its eggs are left lying on the +beach in the form I have described. They are laid in the shape of a +broad, short ribbon, pressed between the mantle and the shell, and, +passing out, cover the outside of the shell, over which they are rolled +up, with a kind of glutinous envelope,--for the eggs are held together +by a soft glutinous substance. Thus surrounded, the shell, by its +natural movements along the beach, soon collects the sand upon it, the +particles of which in contact with the glutinous substance of the eggs +quickly forms a cement that binds the whole together in a kind of paste. +When consolidated, it drops off from the shell, having taken the mould +of its form, as it were, and retaining the curve which distinguishes the +outline of the Natica. Although these saucers look perfectly round, it +will be found that the edges are not soldered together, but are simply +lapped one over the other. Every one of the thousand little spheres +crowded into such a circle of sand contains an egg. If we follow the +development of these eggs, we shall presently find that each one divides +into two halves, these again dividing to make four portions, then the +four breaking up into eight, and so on, till we may have the yolks +divided into no less than sixteen distinct parts. Thus far this process +of segmentation is similar to that of the egg in other animals; but, as +we shall see hereafter, it seems usually to result only in a change in +the quality of its substance, for the portions coalesce again to form +one mass, from which a new individual is finally sketched out, at first +as a simple embryo, and gradually undergoing all the changes peculiar to +its kind, till a new-born animal escapes from the egg. But in the case +of the Natica this regular segmentation changes its character, and at a +certain period, in a more or less advanced stage of the segmentation, +according to the species, each portion of the yolk assumes an +individuality of its own, and, instead of uniting again with the rest, +begins to subdivide for itself. In our _Natica heros_, for instance, the +common large gray Sea-Snail of our coast, this change takes place when +the yolk has subdivided into eight parts. At that time each portion +begins a life of its own, not reuniting with its seven twin portions; so +that in the end, instead of a single embryo growing out of this yolk, +we have eight embryos arising from a single yolk, each one of which +undergoes a series of developments similar in all respects to that by +which a single embryo is formed from each egg in other animals. We have +other Naticas in which the normal number is twelve, others again in +which no less than sixteen individuals arise from one yolk. But this +process of segmentation, though in these animals it leads to such a +multiplication of individuals, is exactly the same as that discovered +by K.E. von Baer in the egg of the Frog, and described and figured by +Professor Bischof in the egg of the Rabbit, the Dog, the Guinea-Pig, +and the Deer, while other embryologists have traced the same process in +Birds, Reptiles, and Fishes, as well as in a variety of Articulates, +Mollusks, and Radiates. + +Multiplication by division occurs also normally in adult animals that +have completed their growth. This is especially frequent among Worms; +and strange to say, there are species in this Class which never lay eggs +before they have already multiplied themselves by self-division. + +Another mode of increase is that by budding, as in the Corals and many +other Radiates. The most common instance of budding we do not, however, +generally associate with this mode of multiplication in the Animal +Kingdom, because we are so little accustomed to compare and generalize +upon phenomena that we do not see to be directly connected with one +another. I allude here to the budding of trees, which year after year +enlarge by the addition of new individuals arising from buds. I trust +that the usual acceptation of the word _individual_, used in science +simply to designate singleness of existence, will not obscure a correct +appreciation of the true relation of buds to their parents and to the +beings arising from them. These buds have the same organic significance, +whether they drop from the parent stock to become distinct individuals +in the common acceptation of the term, or remain connected with +the parent stock, as in Corals and in trees, thus forming growing +communities of combined individuals. Nor will it matter much in +connection with the subject under discussion, whether these buds start +from the surface of an animal or sprout in its interior, to be cast off +in due time. Neither is the inequality of buds, varying more or less +among themselves, any sound reason for overlooking their essential +identity of structure. We have seen instances of this among Acalephs, +and it is still more apparent among trees which produce simultaneously +leaf and flower-buds, and even separate male and female flower-buds, as +is the case with our Hazels, Oaks, etc. + +It is not, however, my purpose here to describe the various modes of +reproduction and multiplication among animals and plants, nor to discuss +the merits of the different opinions respecting their numeric increase, +according to which some persons hold that all types originated from a +few primitive individuals, while others believe that the very numbers +now in existence are part of the primitive plan, and essential to the +harmonious relations existing between the animal and vegetable world. I +would only attempt to show that in the plan of Creation the maintenance +of types has been secured through a variety of means, but under such +limitations, that, within a narrow range of individual differences, all +representatives of one kind of animals agree with one another, whether +derived from eggs, or produced by natural division, or by budding; and +that the constancy of these normal processes of reproduction, as well as +the uniformity of their results, precludes the idea that the specific +differences among animals have been produced by the very means that +secure their permanence of type. The statement itself implies a +contradiction, for it tells us that the same influences prevent and +produce change in the condition of the Animal Kingdom. Facts are all +against it; there is not a fact known to science by which any single +being, in the natural process of reproduction and multiplication, has +diverged from the course natural to its kind, or in which a single kind +has been transformed into any other. But this once established, and +setting aside the idea that Embryology is to explain to us the origin as +well as the maintenance of life, it yet has most important lessons for +us, and the field it covers is constantly enlarging as the study +is pursued. The first and most important result of the science of +Embryology was one for which the scientific world was wholly unprepared. +Down to our own century, nothing could have been farther from the +conception of anatomists and physiologists than the fact now generally +admitted, that all animals, without exception, arise from eggs. Though +Linnaeus had already expressed this great truth in the sentence so often +quoted,--"Omne vivum ex ovo,"--yet he was not himself aware of the +significance of his own statement, for the existence of the Mammalian +egg was not then dreamed of. Since then the discoveries of von Baer and +others have shown not only that the egg is common to all living beings +without exception, from the lowest Radiate to the highest Vertebrate, +but that its structure is at first identical in all, composed of the +same primitive elements and undergoing exactly the same process of +growth up to the time when it assumes the special character peculiar +to its kind. This is unquestionably one of the most comprehensive +generalizations of modern times. + +In common parlance, we understand by an egg something of the nature of a +hen's egg, a mass of yolk surrounded with white and inclosed in a shell. +But to the naturalist, the envelopes of the egg, which vary greatly in +different animals, are mere accessories, while the true egg, or, as it +is called, the ovarian egg, with which the life of every living being +begins, is a minute sphere, uniform in appearance throughout the Animal +Kingdom, though its intimate structure is hardly to be reached even with +the highest powers of the microscope. Some account of the earlier stages +of growth in the egg may not be uninteresting to my readers. I will +take the egg of the Turtle as an illustration, since that has been the +subject of my own especial study; but, as I do not intend to carry my +remarks beyond the period during which the history of all vertebrate +eggs is the same, they may be considered of more general application. + +It is well known that all organic structures, whether animal or +vegetable, are composed of cells. These cells consist of an outside bag +inclosing an inner sac, and within that sac there is a dot. The outer +bag is filled with semi-transparent fluid, the inner one with a +perfectly transparent fluid, while the dot is dark and distinct. In the +language of our science, the outer envelope is called the Ectoblast, the +inner sac the Mesoblast, and the dot the Entoblast. Although they are +peculiarly modified to suit the different organs, these cells never lose +this peculiar structure; it may be traced even in the long drawn-out +cells of the flesh, which are like mere threads, but yet have their +outer and inner sac and their dot,--at least while forming. + +In the Turtle the ovary is made up of such cells, spherical at first, +but becoming hexagonal under pressure, when they are more closely packed +together. Between these ovarian cells the egg originates, and is at +first a mere granule, so minute, that, when placed under a very high +magnifying power, it is but just visible. This is the incipient egg, +and at this stage it differs from the surrounding cells only in being +somewhat darker, like a drop of oil, and opaque, instead of transparent +and clear like the surrounding cells. Under the microscope it is found +to be composed of two substances only: namely, oil and albumen. It +increases gradually, and when it has reached a size at which it requires +to be magnified one thousand times in order to be distinctly visible, +the outside assumes the aspect of a membrane thicker than the interior +and forming a coating around it. This is owing not to an addition from +outside, but to a change in the consistency of the substance at the +surface, which becomes more closely united, more compact, than the +loose mass in the centre. Presently we perceive a bright, luminous, +transparent spot on the upper side of the egg, near the wall or outer +membrane. This is produced by a concentration of the albumen, which +now separates from the oil and collects at the upper side of the egg, +forming this light spot, called by naturalists the Purkinjean vesicle, +after its discoverer, Purkinje. When this albuminous spot becomes +somewhat larger, there arises a little dot in the centre,--the germinal +dot, as it is called. And now we have a perfect cell-structure, +differing from an ordinary cell only in having the inner sac, inclosing +the dot, on the side, instead of in the centre. The outer membrane +corresponds to the Ectoblast, or outer cell sac, the Purkinjean vesicle +to the Mesoblast, or inner cell sac, while the dot in the centre answers +to the Entoblast. When the Purkinjean vesicle has completed its growth, +it bursts and disappears; but the mass contained in it remains in the +same region, and retains the same character, though no longer inclosed +as before. + +At a later stage of the investigation, we see why the Purkinjean +vesicle, or inner sac of the egg, is placed on the side, instead of +being at the centre, as in the cell. It arises on that side along which +the axis of the little Turtle is to lie,--the opposite side being that +corresponding to the lower part of the body. Thus the lighter, more +delicate part of the substance of the egg is collected where the upper +cavity of the animal, inclosing the nervous system and brain, is to +be, while the heavy oily part remains beneath, where the lower cavity, +inclosing all the organs of mere material animal existence, is +afterwards developed. In other words, when the egg is a mere mass of +oil and albumen, not indicating as yet in any way the character of the +future animal, and discernible only by the microscope, the distinction +is indicated between the brains and the senses, between the organs of +instinct and sensation and those of mere animal functions. At that stage +of its existence, however, when the egg consists of an outer sac, an +inner sac, and a dot, its resemblance to a cell is unmistakable; and, +in fact, an egg, when forming, is nothing but a single cell. This +comparison is important, because there are both animals and plants +which, during their whole existence, consist of a single organic cell, +while others are made up of countless millions of such cells. Between +these two extremes we have all degrees, from the innumerable cells that +build up the body of the highest Vertebrate to the single-celled Worm, +and from the myriad cells of the Oak to the single-celled Alga. + +But while we recognize the identity of cell-structure and egg-structure +at this point in the history of the egg, we must not forget the great +distinction between them,--namely, that, while the cells remain +component parts of the whole body, the egg separates itself and assumes +a distinct individual existence. Even now, while still microscopically +small, its individuality begins; other substances collect around it, are +absorbed into it, nourish it, serve it. Every being is a centre about +which many other things cluster and converge, and which has the power to +assimilate to itself the necessary elements of its life. Every egg is +already such a centre, differing from the cells that surround it by +no material elements, but by the principle of life in which its +individuality consists, which is to make it a new being, instead of a +fellow-cell with those that build up the body of the parent animal and +remain component parts of it. This intangible something is the subtile +element that eludes our closest analysis; it is the germ of the +immaterial principle according to which the new being is to develop. The +physical germ we see; the spiritual germ we cannot see, though we may +trace its action on the material elements through which it is expressed. + +The first change in the yolk, after the formation of the Purkinjean +vesicle, is the appearance of minute dots near the wall at the side +opposite the vesicle. These increase in number and size, but remain +always on that half of the yolk, leaving the other half of the globe +clear. One can hardly conceive the beauty of the egg as seen through the +microscope at this period of its growth, when the whole yolk is divided, +with the dark granules on one side, while the other side, where the +transparent halo of the vesicle is seen, is brilliant with light. With +the growth of the egg these granules enlarge, become more distinct, and +under the microscope some of them appear to be hollow. They are not +round in form, but rather irregular, and under the effect of light they +are exceedingly brilliant. Presently, instead of being scattered equally +over the space they occupy, they form clusters,--constellations, as it +were,--and between these clusters are clear spaces, produced by the +separation of the albumen from the oil. + +At this period of its growth there is a wonderful resemblance between +the appearance of the egg, as seen under the microscope, and +the firmament with the celestial bodies. The little clusters or +constellations are unequally divided: here and there they are two and +two like double stars, or sometimes in threes or fives, or in sevens, +recalling the Pleiades, and the clear albuminous tracks between are like +the empty spaces separating the stars. + +This is no fanciful simile: it is simply true that such is the actual +appearance of the yolk at this time; and the idea cannot but suggest +itself to the mind, that the thoughts which have been at work in the +universe are collected and repeated here within this little egg, which +offers us a miniature diagram of the firmament. This is one of the first +changes of the yolk, ending by forming regular clusters with a sort +of net-work of albumen between, and then this phase of the growth is +complete. + +Now the clusters of the yolk separate, and next the albumen in its turn +concentrates into clusters, and the dark bodies, which have been till +now the striking points, give way to the lighter spheres of albumen +between which the clusters are scattered. Presently the whole becomes +redissolved: these stages of the growth being completed, this little +system of worlds is melted, as it were: but while it undergoes this +process, the albuminous spheres, after being dissolved, arrange +themselves in concentric rings, alternating with rings of granules, +around the Purkinjean vesicle. At this time we are again reminded of +Saturn and its rings, which seems to have its counterpart here. These +rings disappear, and now once more out of the yolk mass loom up little +dots as minute as before; but they are round instead of angular, and +those nearest the Purkinjean vesicle are smaller and clearer, containing +less of oil than the larger and darker ones on the opposite side. From +this time the yolk begins to take its color, the oily cells assuming a +yellow tint, while the albuminous cells near the vesicle become whiter. + +Up to this period the processes in the different cells seem to have been +controlled by the different character of the substance of each; but now +it would seem that the changes become more independent of physical or +material influences, for each kind of cell undergoes the same process. +They all assume the ordinary cell character, with outer and inner +sac,--the inner sac forming on the side, like the Purkinjean vesicle +itself; but it does not retain this position, for, as soon as its wall +is formed and it becomes a distinct body, it floats away from the side +and takes its place in the centre. Next there arise within it a number +of little bodies crystalline in form, and which actually are wax or oil +crystals. They increase with great rapidity, the inner sac or mesoblast +becoming sometimes so crowded with them, that its shape is affected by +the protrusion of their angles. This process goes on till all the cells +are so filled by the mesoblast, with its myriad brood of cells, that +the outer sac or ectoblast becomes a mere halo around it. Then every +mesoblast contracts; the contraction deepens, till it is divided across +in both directions, separating thus into four parts, then into eight, +then into sixteen, and so on, till every cell is crowded with hundreds +of minute mesoblasts, each containing the indication of a central dot or +entoblast. At this period every yolk cell is itself like a whole yolk; +for each cell is as full of lesser cells as the yolk-bag itself. + +When the mesoblast has become thus infinitely subdivided into hundreds +of minute spheres, the ectoblast bursts, and the new generations of +cells thus set free collect in that part of the egg where the embryonic +disk is to arise. This process of segmentation continues to go on +downward till the whole yolk is taken in. These myriad cells are in +fact the component parts of the little Turtle that is to be. They will +undergo certain modifications, to become flesh-cells, blood-cells, +brain-cells, and so on, adapting themselves to the different organs they +are to build up; but they have as much their definite and appointed +share in the formation of the body now as at any later stage of its +existence. + +We are so accustomed to see life maintained through a variety of +complicated organs that we are apt to think this the only way in which +it can be manifested; and considering how closely life and the organs +through which it is expressed are united, it is natural that we should +believe them inseparably connected. But embryological investigations +have shown us that in the commencement none of these organs are formed, +and yet that the principle of life is active, and that even after they +exist, they cannot act, inclosed as they are. In the little Chicken, for +instance, before it is hatched, the lungs cannot breathe, for they +are surrounded by fluid, the senses are inactive, for they receive no +impressions from without, and all those functions establishing its +relations with the external world lie dormant, for as yet they are not +needed. But they are there, though, as we have seen in the Turtle's egg, +they were not there at the beginning. How, then, are they formed? We may +answer, that the first function of every organ is to make itself. The +building material is, as it were, provided by the process which divides +the yolk into innumerable cells, and by the gradual assimilation and +modification of this material the organs arise. Before the lungs +breathe, they make themselves; before the stomach digests, it makes +itself; before the organs of the senses act, they make themselves; +before the brain thinks, it makes itself; in a word, before the whole +system works, it makes itself; its first office is self-structure. + +At the period described above, however, when the new generations of +cells are just set free and have taken their place in the region where +the new being is to develop, nothing is to be seen of the animal whose +life is beginning there, except the filmy disk lying on the surface of +the yolk. Next come the layers of white or albumen around the egg, and +last the shell which is formed from the lime in the albumen. There is +always more or less of lime in albumen, and the hardening of the last +layer of white into shell is owing only to the greater proportion of +lime in its substance. In the layer next to the shell there is enough of +lime to consolidate it slightly, and it forms a membrane; but the white, +the membrane, and the shell have all the same quality, except that the +proportion of lime is more or less in the different layers. + +But, as I have said, the various envelopes of eggs, the presence or +absence of a shell, and the absolute size of the egg, are accessory +features, belonging not to the egg as egg, but to the special kind of +being from which the egg has arisen and into which it is to develop. +What is common to all eggs and essential to them all is that which +corresponds to the yolk in the bird's egg. But their later mode of +development, the degree of perfection acquired by the egg and germ +before being laid, the term required for the germ to come to maturity, +as well as the frequency and regularity of the broods, are all features +varying with the different kinds of animals. There are those that lay +eggs once a year at a particular season and then die; so that their +existence may be compared to that of annual plants, undergoing their +natural growth in a season, to exist during the remainder of the year +only in the form of an egg or seed. The majority of Insects belong to +this category, as do also our large Jelly-Fishes; many others have a +slow growth, extending over several years, during which they reach their +maturity, and for a longer or shorter time produce broods at fixed +intervals; while others, again, reach their mature state very rapidly, +and produce a number of successive generations in a comparatively short +time, it may be in a single season. + +I do not intend to enter upon the chapter of special differences of +development among animals, for in this article I have aimed only to show +that the egg lives, that it is itself the young animal, and that +the vital principle is active in it from the earliest period of its +existence. But I would say to all young students of Embryology that +their next aim should be to study those intermediate phases in the life +of a young animal, when, having already acquired independent existence, +it has not yet reached the condition of the adult. Here lies an +inexhaustible mine of valuable information unappropriated, from which, +as my limited experience has already taught me, may be gathered the +evidence for the solution of the most perplexing problems of our +science. Here we shall find the true tests by which to determine the +various kinds and different degrees of affinity which animals now living +bear not only to one another, but also to those that have preceded them +in past times. Here we shall find, not a material connection by which +blind laws of matter have evolved the whole creation out of a single +germ, but the clue to that intellectual conception which spans the whole +series of the geological ages and is perfectly consistent in all its +parts. In this sense the present will indeed explain the past, and the +young naturalist is happy who enters upon his life of investigation now, +when the problems that were dark to all his predecessors have received +new light from the sciences of Palaeontology and Embryology. + + * * * * * + + +BLIND TOM. + + + Only a germ in a withered flower, + That the rain will bring out--sometime. + +Sometime in the year 1850, a tobacco-planter in Southern Georgia +(Perry H. Oliver by name) bought a likely negro woman with some other +field-hands. She was stout, tough-muscled, willing, promised to be a +remunerative servant; her baby, however, a boy a few months old, was +only thrown in as a makeweight to the bargain, or rather because Mr. +Oliver would not consent to separate mother and child. Charity only +could have induced him to take the picaninny, in fact, for he was but +a lump of black flesh, born blind, and with the vacant grin of idiocy, +they thought, already stamped on his face. The two slaves were +purchased, I believe, from a trader: it has been impossible, therefore, +for me to ascertain where Tom was born, or when. Georgia field-hands +are not accurate as Jews in preserving their genealogy; _they_ do +not anticipate a Messiah. A white man, you know, has that vague hope +unconsciously latent in him, that he is, or shall give birth to, the +great man of his race, a helper, a provider for the world's hunger: so +he grows jealous with his blood; the dead grandfather may have presaged +the possible son; besides, it is a debt he owes to this coming Saul to +tell him whence he came. There are some classes, free and slave, out of +whom society has crushed this hope: they have no clan, no family-names +among them, therefore. This idiot-boy, chosen by God to be anointed with +the holy chrism, is only "Tom,"--"Blind Tom," they call him in all the +Southern States, with a kind cadence always, being proud and fond +of him; and yet--nothing but Tom? That is pitiful. Just a +mushroom-growth,--unkinned, unexpected, not hoped for, for generations, +owning no name to purify and honor and give away when he is dead. His +mother, at work to-day in the Oliver plantations, can never comprehend +why her boy is famous; this gift of God to him means nothing to her. +Nothing to him, either, which is saddest of all; he is unconscious, +wears his crown as an idiot might. Whose fault is that? Deeper than +slavery the evil lies. + +Mr. Oliver did his duty well to the boy, being an observant and +thoroughly kind master. The plantation was large, heartsome, faced the +sun, swarmed with little black urchins, with plenty to eat, and nothing +to do. + +All that Tom required, as he fattened out of baby- into boyhood, was +room in which to be warm, on the grass-patch, or by the kitchen-fires, +to be stupid, flabby, sleepy,--kicked and petted alternately by the +other hands. He had a habit of crawling up on the porches and verandas +of the mansion and squatting there in the sun, waiting for a kind word +or touch from those who went in and out. He seldom failed to receive it. +Southerners know nothing of the physical shiver of aversion with which +even the Abolitionists of the North touch the negro: so Tom, through his +very helplessness, came to be a sort of pet in the family, a playmate, +occasionally, of Mr. Oliver's own infant children. The boy, creeping +about day after day in the hot light, was as repugnant an object as the +lizards in the neighboring swamp, and promised to be of as little use to +his master. He was of the lowest negro type, from which only field-hands +can be made,--coal-black, with protruding heels, the ape-jaw, +blubber-lips constantly open, the sightless eyes closed, and the head +thrown far back on the shoulders, lying on the back, in fact, a habit +which he still retains, and which adds to the imbecile character of +the face. Until he was seven years of age, Tom was regarded on the +plantation as an idiot, not unjustly; for at the present time his +judgment and reason rank but as those of a child four years old. He +showed a dog-like affection for some members of the household,--a son +of Mr. Oliver's especially,--and a keen, nervous sensitiveness to the +slightest blame or praise from them,--possessed, too, a low animal +irritability of temper, giving way to inarticulate yelps of passion when +provoked. That is all, so far; we find no other outgrowth of intellect +or soul from the boy: just the same record as that of thousands of +imbecile negro-children. Generations of heathendom and slavery have +dredged the inherited brains and temperaments of such children tolerably +clean of all traces of power or purity,--palsied the brain, brutalized +the nature. Tom apparently fared no better than his fellows. + +It was not until 1857 that those phenomenal powers latent in the boy +were suddenly developed, which stamped him the anomaly he is to-day. + +One night, sometime in the summer of that year, Mr. Oliver's family were +wakened by the sound of music in the drawing-room: not only the simple +airs, but the most difficult exercises usually played by his daughters, +were repeated again and again, the touch of the musician being timid, +but singularly true and delicate. Going down, they found Tom, who had +been left asleep in the hall, seated at the piano in an ecstasy of +delight, breaking out at the end of each successful fugue into shouts of +laughter, kicking his heels and clapping his hands. This was the first +time he had touched the piano. + +Naturally, Tom became a nine-days' wonder on the plantation. He was +brought in as an after-dinner's amusement; visitors asked for him as the +show of the place. There was hardly a conception, however, in the minds +of those who heard him, of how deep the cause for wonder lay. The +planters' wives and daughters of the neighborhood were not people +who would be apt to comprehend music as a science, or to use it as a +language; they only saw in the little negro, therefore, a remarkable +facility for repeating the airs they drummed on their pianos,--in a +different manner from theirs, it is true,--which bewildered them. They +noticed, too, that, however the child's fingers fell on the keys, +cadences followed, broken, wandering, yet of startling beauty and +pathos. The house-servants, looking in through the open doors at the +little black figure perched up before the instrument, while unknown, +wild harmony drifted through the evening air, had a better conception +of him. He was possessed; some ghost spoke through him: which is a fair +enough definition of genius for a Georgian slave to offer. + +Mr. Oliver, as we said, was indulgent. Tom was allowed to have constant +access to the piano; in truth, he could not live without it; when +deprived of music now, actual physical debility followed: the gnawing +Something had found its food at last. No attempt was made, however, to +give him any scientific musical teaching; nor--I wish it distinctly +borne in mind--has he ever at any time received such instruction. + +The planter began to wonder what kind of a creature this was which he +had bought, flesh and soul. In what part of the unsightly baby-carcass +had been stowed away these old airs, forgotten by every one else, +and some of them never heard by the child but once, but which he now +reproduced, every note intact, and with whatever quirk or quiddity of +style belonged to the person who originally had sung or played them? +Stranger still the harmonies which he had never heard, had learned from +no man. The sluggish breath of the old house, being enchanted, grew into +quaint and delicate whims of music, never the same, changing every day. +Never glad: uncertain, sad minors always, vexing the content of the +hearer,--one inarticulate, unanswered question of pain in all, making +them one. Even the vulgarest listener was troubled, hardly knowing +why,--how sorry Tom's music was! + +At last the time came when the door was to be opened, when some +listener, not vulgar, recognizing the child as God made him, induced his +master to remove him from the plantation. Something ought to be done for +him; the world ought not to be cheated of this pleasure; besides--the +money that could be made! So Mr. Oliver, with a kindly feeling for Tom, +proud, too, of this agreeable monster which his plantation had grown, +and sensible that it was a more fruitful source of revenue than +tobacco-fields, set out with the boy, literally to seek their fortune. + +The first exhibition of him was given, I think, in Savannah, Georgia; +thence he was taken to Charleston, Richmond, to all the principal cities +and towns in the Southern States. + +This was in 1858. From that time until the present Tom has lived +constantly an open life, petted, feted, his real talent befogged by +exaggeration, and so pampered and coddled that one might suppose the +only purpose was to corrupt and wear it out. For these reasons this +statement is purposely guarded, restricted to plain, known facts. + +No sooner had Tom been brought before the public than the pretensions +put forward by his master commanded the scrutiny of both scientific +and musical skeptics. His capacities were subjected to rigorous tests. +Fortunately for the boy: for, so tried,--harshly, it is true, yet +skilfully,--they not only bore the trial, but acknowledged the touch +as skilful; every day new powers were developed, until he reached his +limit, beyond which it is not probable he will ever pass. That limit, +however, establishes him as an anomaly in musical science. + +Physically, and in animal temperament, this negro ranks next to the +lowest Guinea type: with strong appetites and gross bodily health, +except in one particular, which will be mentioned hereafter. In the +every-day apparent intellect, in reason or judgment, he is but one +degree above an idiot,--incapable of comprehending the simplest +conversation on ordinary topics, amused or enraged with trifles such +as would affect a child of three years old. On the other side, his +affections are alive, even vehement, delicate in their instinct as a +dog's or an infant's; he will detect the step of any one dear to him in +a crowd, and burst into tears, if not kindly spoken to. + +His memory is so accurate that he can repeat, without the loss of a +syllable, a discourse of fifteen minutes in length, of which he does +not understand a word. Songs, too, in French or German, after a single +hearing, he renders not only literally in words, but in notes, style, +and expression. His voice, however, is discordant, and of small compass. + +In music, this boy of twelve years, born blind, utterly ignorant of a +note, ignorant of every phase of so-called musical science, interprets +severely classical composers with a clearness of conception in which +he excels, and a skill in mechanism equal to that of our second-rate +artists. His concerts usually include any themes selected by the +audience from the higher grades of Italian or German opera. His +comprehension of the meaning of music, as a prophetic or historical +voice which few souls utter and fewer understand, is clear and vivid: he +renders it thus, with whatever mastery of the mere material part he may +possess, fingering, dramatic effects, etc.: these are but means to him, +not an end, as with most artists. One could fancy that Tom was never +traitor to the intent or soul of the theme. What God or the Devil meant +to say by this or that harmony, what the soul of one man cried aloud to +another in it, this boy knows, and is to that a faithful witness. His +deaf, uninstructed soul has never been tampered with by art-critics who +know the body well enough of music, but nothing of the living creature +within. The world is full of these vulgar souls that palter with eternal +Nature and the eternal Arts, blind to the Word who dwells among us +therein. Tom, or the daemon in Tom, was not one of them. + +With regard to his command of the instrument, two points have been +especially noted by musicians: the unusual frequency of occurrence of +_tours de force_ in his playing, and the scientific precision of his +manner of touch. For example, in a progression of augmented chords, his +mode of fingering is invariably that of the schools, not that which +would seem most natural to a blind child never taught to place a finger. +Even when seated with his back to the piano, and made to play in that +position, (a favorite feat in his concerts,) the touch is always +scientifically accurate. + +The peculiar power which Tom possesses, however, is one which requires +no scientific knowledge of music in his audiences to appreciate. +Placed at the instrument with any musician, he plays a perfect bass +accompaniment to the treble of music _heard for the first time as +he plays_. Then taking the seat vacated by the other performer, he +instantly gives the entire piece, intact in brilliancy and symmetry, not +a note lost or misplaced. The selections of music by which this power +of Tom's was tested, two years ago, were sometimes fourteen and sixteen +pages in length; on one occasion, at an exhibition at the White House, +after a long concert, he was tried with two pieces,--one thirteen, the +other twenty pages long, and was successful. + +We know of no parallel case to this in musical history. Grimm tells us, +as one of the most remarkable manifestations of Mozart's infant genius, +that at the age of nine he was required to give an accompaniment to an +aria which he had never heard before, and without notes. There were +false accords in the first attempt, he acknowledges; but the second was +pure. When the music to which Tom plays _secondo_ is strictly classical, +he sometimes balks for an instant in passages; to do otherwise would +argue a creative power equal to that of the master composers; but when +any chordant harmony runs through it, (on which the glowing negro soul +can seize, you know,) there are no "false accords," as with the infant +Mozart. I wish to draw especial attention to this power of the boy, not +only because it is, so far as I know, unmatched in the development of +any musical talent, but because, considered in the context of his +entire intellectual structure, it involves a curious problem. The mere +repetition of music heard but once, even when, as in Tom's case, it +is given with such incredible fidelity, and after the lapse of years, +demands only a command of mechanical skill, and an abnormal condition of +the power of memory; but to play _secondo_ to music never heard or seen +implies the comprehension of the full drift of the symphony in its +current,--a capacity to create, in short. Yet such attempts as Tom has +made to dictate music for publication do not sustain any such inference. +They are only a few light marches, gallops, etc., simple and plaintive +enough, but with easily detected traces of remembered harmonies: very +different from the strange, weird improvisations of every day. One would +fancy that the mere attempt to bring this mysterious genius within him +in bodily presence before the outer world woke, too, the idiotic nature +to utter its reproachful, unable cry. Nor is this the only bar by which +poor Tom's soul is put in mind of its foul bestial prison. After any +too prolonged effort, such as those I have alluded to, his whole bodily +frame gives way, and a complete exhaustion of the brain follows, +accompanied with epileptic spasms. The trial at the White House, +mentioned before, was successful, but was followed by days of illness. + +Being a slave, Tom never was taken into a Free State; for the same +reason his master refused advantageous offers from European managers. +The highest points North at which his concerts were given were Baltimore +and the upper Virginia towns. I heard him sometime in 1860. He remained +a week or two in the town, playing every night. + +The concerts were unique enough. They were given in a great barn of +a room, gaudy with hot, soot-stained frescoes, chandeliers, walls +splotched with gilt. The audience was large, always; such as a +provincial town affords: not the purest bench of musical criticism +before which to bring poor Tom. Beaux and belles, siftings of old +country families, whose grandfathers trapped and traded and married with +the Indians,--the savage thickening of whose blood told itself in high +cheekbones, flashing jewelry, champagne-bibbing, a comprehension of +the tom-tom music of schottisches and polkas; money-made men and their +wives, cooped up by respectability, taking concerts when they were given +in town, taking the White Sulphur or Cape May in summer, taking beef for +dinner, taking the pork-trade in winter,--_toute la vie en programme_; +the _débris_ of a town, the roughs, the boys, school-children,--Tom was +nearly as well worth a quarter as the negro-minstrels; here and there +a pair of reserved, homesick eyes, a peculiar, reticent face, some +whey-skinned ward-teacher's, perhaps, or some German cobbler's, but +hints of a hungry soul, to whom Beethoven and Mendelssohn knew how +to preach an unerring gospel. The stage was broad, planked, with a +drop-curtain behind,--the Doge marrying the sea, I believe; in front, a +piano and chair. + +Presently, Mr. Oliver, a well-natured looking man, (one thought of +that,) came forward, leading and coaxing along a little black boy, +dressed in white linen, somewhat fat and stubborn in build. Tom was +not in a good humor that night; the evening before had refused to play +altogether; so his master perspired anxiously before he could get him +placed in rule before the audience, and repeat his own little speech, +which sounded like a Georgia after-dinner gossip. The boy's head, as +I said, rested on his back, his mouth wide open constantly; his great +blubber lips and shining teeth, therefore, were all you saw when +he faced you. He required to be petted and bought like any other +weak-minded child. The concert was a mixture of music, whining, coaxing, +and promised candy and cake. + +He seated himself at last before the piano, a full half-yard distant, +stretching out his arms full-length, like an ape clawing for +food,--his feet, when not on the pedals, squirming and twisting +incessantly,--answering some joke of his master's with a loud "Yha! +yha!" Nothing indexes the brain like the laugh; this was idiotic. + +"Now, Tom, boy, something we like from Verdi." + +The head fell farther back, the claws began to work, and those of his +harmonies which you would have chosen as the purest exponents of passion +began to float through the room. Selections from Weber, Beethoven, and +others whom I have forgotten, followed. At the close of each piece, +Tom, without waiting for the audience, would himself applaud violently, +kicking, pounding his hands together, turning always to his master +for the approving pat on the head. Songs, recitations such as I have +described, filled up the first part of the evening; then a musician from +the audience went upon the stage to put the boy's powers to the final +test. Songs and intricate symphonies were given, which it was most +improbable the boy could ever have heard; he remained standing, +utterly motionless, until they were finished, and for a moment or two +after,--then, seating himself, gave them without the break of a +note. Others followed, more difficult, in which he played the bass +accompaniment in the manner I have described, repeating instantly the +treble. The child looked dull, wearied, during this part of the trial, +and his master, perceiving it, announced the exhibition closed, when the +musician (who was a citizen of the town, by-the-way) drew out a +thick roll of score, which he explained to be a Fantasia of his own +composition, never published. + +"_This_ it was impossible the boy could have heard; there could be no +trick of memory in this; and on this trial," triumphantly, "Tom would +fail." + +The manuscript was some fourteen pages long,--variations on an inanimate +theme. Mr. Oliver refused to submit the boy's brain to so cruel a test; +some of the audience, even, interfered; but the musician insisted, and +took his place. Tom sat beside him,--his head rolling nervously from +side to side,--struck the opening cadence, and then, from the first note +to the last, gave the _secondo_ triumphantly. Jumping up, he fairly +shoved the man from his seat, and proceeded to play the treble with more +brilliancy and power than its composer. When he struck the last octave, +he sprang up, yelling with delight:-- + +"Um's got him, Massa! um's got him!" cheering and rolling about the +stage. + +The cheers of the audience--for the boys especially did not wait to +clap--excited him the more. It was an hour before his master could quiet +his hysteric agitation. + +That feature of the concerts which was the most painful I have not +touched upon: the moments when his master was talking, and Tom was left +to himself,--when a weary despair seemed to settle down on the distorted +face, and the stubby little black fingers, wandering over the keys, +spoke for Tom's own caged soul within. Never, by any chance, a merry, +childish laugh of music in the broken cadences; tender or wild, a +defiant outcry, a tired sigh breaking down into silence. Whatever +wearied voice it took, the same bitter, hopeless soul spoke through all: +"Bless me, even me, also, O my Father!" A something that took all the +pain and pathos of the world into its weak, pitiful cry. + +Some beautiful caged spirit, one could not but know, struggled for +breath under that brutal form and idiotic brain. I wonder when it will +be free. Not in this life: the bars are too heavy. + +You cannot help Tom, either; all the war is between you. He was in +Richmond in May. But (do you hate the moral to a story?) in your own +kitchen, in your own back-alley, there are spirits as beautiful, caged +in forms as bestial, that you _could_ set free, if you pleased. Don't +call it bad taste in me to speak for them. You know they are more to be +pitied than Tom,--for they are dumb. + + + + +KINDERGARTEN--WHAT IS IT? + + +What is a Kindergarten? I will reply by negatives. It is not +the old-fashioned infant-school. That was a narrow institution, +comparatively; the object being (I do not speak of Pestalozzi's own, +but that which we have had in this country and in England) to take +the children of poor laborers, and keep them out of the fire and the +streets, while their mothers went to their necessary labor. Very good +things, indeed, in their way. Their principle of discipline was to +circumvent the wills of children, in every way that would enable their +teachers to keep them within bounds, and quiet. It was certainly better +that they should learn to sing _by rote_ the Creed and the "definitions" +of scientific terms, and such like, than to learn the profanity and +obscenity of the streets, which was the alternative. But no mother who +wished for anything which might be called the _development_ of her child +would think of putting it into an infant-school, especially if she lived +in the country, amid + + "the mighty sum + Of things forever speaking," + +where any "old grey stone" would altogether surpass, as a stand-point, +the bench of the highest class of an infant-school. In short, they +did not state the problem of infant culture with any breadth, and +accomplished nothing of general interest on the subject. + +Neither is the primary public school a Kindergarten, though it is +but justice to the capabilities of that praiseworthy institution, so +important in default of a better, to say that in one of them, at the +North End of Boston, an enterprising and genial teacher has introduced +one feature of Froebel's plan. She has actually given to each of her +little children a box of playthings, wherewith to amuse itself +according to its own sweet will, at all times when not under direct +instruction,--necessarily, in her case, on condition of its being +perfectly quiet; and this one thing makes this primary school the best +one in Boston, both as respects the attainments of the scholars and +their good behavior. + +_Kindergarten_ means a garden of children, and Froebel, the inventor of +it, or rather, as he would prefer to express it, _the discoverer of the +method of Nature_, meant to symbolize by the name the spirit and plan +of treatment. How does the gardener treat his plants? He studies their +individual natures, and puts them into such circumstances of soil and +atmosphere as enable them to grow, flower, and bring forth fruit,--also +to renew their manifestation year after year. He does not expect to +succeed unless he learns all their wants, and the circumstances in which +these wants will be supplied, and all their possibilities of beauty and +use, and the means of giving them opportunity to be perfected. On the +other hand, while he knows that they must not be forced against their +individual natures, he does not leave them to grow wild, but prunes +redundancies, removes destructive worms and bugs from their leaves and +stems, and weeds from their vicinity,--carefully watching to learn what +peculiar insects affect what particular plants, and how the former can +be destroyed without injuring the vitality of the latter. After all the +most careful gardener can do, he knows that the form of the plant is +predetermined in the germ or seed, and that the inward tendency must +concur with a multitude of influences, the most powerful and subtile of +which is removed in place ninety-five millions of miles away. + +In the Kindergarten _children_ are treated on an analogous plan. It +presupposes gardeners of the mind, who are quite aware that they have as +little power to override the characteristic individuality of a child, or +to predetermine this characteristic, as the gardener of plants to say +that a lily shall be a rose. But notwithstanding this limitation on +one side, and the necessity for concurrence of the Spirit on the +other,--which is more independent of our modification than the remote +sun,--yet they must feel responsible, after all, for the perfection of +the development, in so far as removing every impediment, preserving +every condition, and pruning every redundance. + +This analogy of education to the gardener's art is so striking, both as +regards what we can and what we cannot do, that Froebel has put every +educator into a most suggestive Normal School, by the very word which he +has given to his seminary,--Kindergarten. + +If every school-teacher in the land had a garden of flowers and fruits +to cultivate, it could hardly fail that he would learn to be wise in his +vocation. For suitable preparation, the first, second, and third thing +is, to + + "Come forth into the light of things, + Let Nature be your teacher." + +The "new education," as the French call it, begins with children in the +mother's arms. Froebel had the nurses bring to his establishment, in +Hamburg, children who could not talk, who were not more than three +months old, and trained the nurses to work on his principles and by his +methods. This will hardly be done in this country, at least at present; +but to supply the place of such a class, a lady of Boston has prepared +and published, under copyright, Froebel's First Gift, consisting of six +soft balls of the three primary and the three secondary colors, which +are sold in a box, with a little manual for mothers, in which the true +principle and plan of tending babies, so as not to rasp their nerves, +but to amuse without wearying them, is very happily suggested. There +is no mother or nurse who would not be assisted by this little manual +essentially. As it says in the beginning,--"Tending babies is an art, +and every art is founded on a science of observations; for love is not +wisdom, but love must act _according to wisdom_ in order to succeed. +Mothers and nurses, however tender and kind-hearted, may, and oftenest +do, weary and vex the nerves of children, in well-meant efforts to amuse +them, and weary themselves the while. Froebel's exercises, founded on +the observations of an intelligent sensibility, are intended to amuse +without wearying, to educate without vexing." + +Froebel's Second Gift for children, adapted to the age from one to two +or three years, with another little book of directions, has also been +published by the same lady, and is perhaps a still greater boon to every +nursery; for this is the age when many a child's temper is ruined, +and the inclination of the twig wrongly bent, through sheer _want of +resource and idea_, on the part of nurses and mothers. + +But it is to the next age--from three years old and upwards--that the +Kindergarten becomes the desideratum, if not a necessity. The isolated +home, made into a flower-vase by the application of the principles set +forth in the Gifts[A] above mentioned, may do for babies. But every +mother and nurse knows how hard it is to meet the demands of a child +too young to be taught to read, but whose opening intelligence and +irrepressible bodily activity are so hard to be met by an adult, however +genial and active. Children generally take the temper of their whole +lives from this period of their existence. Then "the twig is bent," +either towards that habit of self-defence which is an ever-renewing +cause of selfishness, or to the sun of love-in-exercise, which is the +exhaustless source of goodness and beauty. + +[Footnote A: These Gifts, the private enterprise of an invalid lady, the +same who first brought the subject of Kindergartens so favorably before +the public in the _Christian Examiner_ for November, 1858, can be +procured at the Kindergarten, 15 Pinckney Street, Boston.] + +The indispensable thing now is a sufficient society of children. It is +only in the society of equals that the social instinct can be gratified, +and come into equilibrium with the instinct of self-preservation. +Self-love, and love of others, are equally natural; and before reason +is developed, and the proper spiritual life begins, sweet and beautiful +childhood may bloom out and imparadise our mortal life. Let us only give +the social instinct of children its fair chance. For this purpose, a few +will not do. The children of one family are not enough, and do not +come along fast enough. A large company should be gathered out of many +families. It will be found that the little things are at once taken out +of themselves, and become interested in each other. In the variety, +affinities develop themselves very prettily, and the rough points of +rampant individualities wear off. We have seen a highly gifted child, +who, at home, was--to use a vulgar, but expressive word--pesky and +odious, with the exacting demands of a powerful, but untrained mind and +heart, become "sweet as roses" spontaneously, amidst the rebound of +a large, well-ordered, and carefully watched child-society. Anxious +mothers have brought us children, with a thousand deprecations and +explanations of their characters, as if they thought we were going to +find them little monsters, which their motherly hearts were persuaded +they were not, though they behaved like little sanchos at home,--and, +behold, they were as harmonious, from the very beginning, as if they had +undergone the subduing influence of a lifetime. We are quite sure that +children begin with loving others quite as intensely as they love +themselves,--forgetting themselves in their love of others,--if they +only have as fair a chance of being benevolent and self-sacrificing as +of being selfish. Sympathy is as much a natural instinct as self-love, +and no more or less innocent, in a moral point of view. Either principle +alone makes an ugly and depraved form of natural character. Balanced, +they give the element of happiness, and the conditions of spiritual +goodness and truth,--making children fit temples for the Holy Ghost to +dwell in. + +A Kindergarten, then, is children in society,--a commonwealth or +republic of children,--whose laws are all part and parcel of the +Higher Law alone. It may be contrasted, in every particular, with the +old-fashioned school, which is an absolute monarchy, where the children +are subjected to a lower expediency, having for its prime end quietness, +or such order as has "reigned in Warsaw" since 1831. + +But let us not be misunderstood. We are not of those who think that +children, in any condition whatever, will inevitably develop into beauty +and goodness. Human nature tends to revolve in a vicious circle, around +the individuality; and children must have over them, in the person of +a wise and careful teacher, a power which shall deal with them as God +deals with the mature, presenting the claims of sympathy and truth +whenever they presumptuously or unconsciously fall into selfishness. We +have the best conditions of moral culture in a company large enough for +the exacting disposition of the solitary child to be balanced by the +claims made by others on the common stock of enjoyment,--there being +a reasonable oversight of older persons, wide-awake to anticipate, +prevent, and adjust the rival pretensions which must always arise where +there are finite beings with infinite desires, while Reason, whose +proper object is God, is yet undeveloped. + +Let the teacher always take for granted that the law of love is quick +within, whatever are appearances, and the better self will generally +respond. In proportion as the child is young and unsophisticated, will +be the certainty of the response to a teacher of simple faith: + + "There are who ask not if thine eye + Be on them,--who, in love and truth, + Where no misgiving is, rely + Upon the genial sense of youth. + + "And blest are they who in the main + This faith even now do entertain, + Live in the spirit of this creed, + Yet find another strength, according to their + need." + +Such are the natural Kindergartners, who prevent disorder by employing +and entertaining children, so that they are kept in an accommodating and +loving mood by never being thrown on self-defence,--and when selfishness +is aroused, who check it by an appeal to sympathy, or Conscience, which +is the presentiment of reason, a fore-feeling of moral order, for whose +culture material order is indispensable. + +But order must be kept by the child, not only unconsciously, but +intentionally. Order is the child of reason, and in turn cultivates the +intellectual principle. To bring out order on the physical plane, the +Kindergarten makes it a serious purpose to organize _romping_, and set +it to music, which cultivates the physical nature also. Romping is the +ecstasy of the body, and we shall find that in proportion as children +tend to be violent they are vigorous in body. There is always morbid +weakness of some kind where there is no instinct for hard play; and it +begins to be the common sense that energetic physical activity must +not be repressed, but favored. Some plan of play prevents the little +creatures from hurting each other, and fancy naturally furnishes the +plan,--the mind unfolding itself in fancies, which are easily quickened +and led in harmless directions by an adult of any resource. Those who +have not imagination themselves must seek the aid of the Kindergarten +guides, where will be found arranged to music the labors of the peasant, +and cooper, and sawyer, the wind-mill, the watermill, the weather-vane, +the clock, the pigeon-house, the hares, the bees, and the cuckoo. +Children delight to personate animals, and a fine genius could not +better employ itself than in inventing a great many more plays, setting +them to rhythmical words, describing what is to be done. Every variety +of bodily exercise might be made and kept within the bounds of order and +beauty by plays involving the motions of different animals and machines +of industry. Kindergarten plays are easy intellectual exercises; for +to do anything whatever with a thought beforehand develops the mind +or quickens the intelligence; and thought of this kind does not try +intellect, or check physical development, which last must never be +sacrificed in the process of education. + +There are enough instances of marvellous acquisition in infancy to show +that imbibing with the mind is as natural as with the body, if suitable +beverage is put to the lips; but in most cases the mind's power is +balanced by instincts of body, which should have priority, if they +cannot certainly be in full harmony. The mind can afford to wait for the +maturing of the body, for it survives the body; while the body cannot +afford to wait for the mind, but is irretrievably stunted, if the +nervous energy is not free to stimulate its special organs at least +equally with those of the mind. + +It is not, however, necessary to sacrifice the culture of either mind or +body, but to harmonize them. They can and ought to grow together. They +mutually help each other. + +Doctor Dio Lewis's "Free Exercises" are also suitable to the +Kindergarten, and may be taken in short lessons of a quarter of an hour, +or even of ten minutes. Children are fond of precision also, and it will +be found that they like the teaching best, when they are made to do the +exercises exactly right, and in perfect time to the music. + +But the regular gymnastics and the romping plays must be alternated with +quiet employments, of course, but still active. They will sing at their +plays by rote; and also should be taught other songs by rote. But there +can be introduced a regular drill on the scale, which should never last +more than ten minutes at a time. This, if well managed, will cultivate +their ears and voices, so that in the course of a year they will become +very expert in telling any note struck, if not in striking it. The ear +is cultivated sooner than the voice, and they may be taught to name the +octave as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and their imaginations impressed by +drawing a ladder of eight rounds on the blackboard, to signify that the +voice rises by regular gradation. This will fix their attention, and +their interest will not flag, if the teacher has any tact. + +Slates and pencils are indispensable in a Kindergarten from the first. +One side of a slate can be ruled with a sharp point in small squares, +and if their fancy is interested by telling them to make a fish-net, +they will carefully make their pencils follow these lines,--which makes +a first exercise in drawing. Their little fingers are so unmanageable +that at first they will not be able to make straight lines even with +this help. For variety, little patterns can be given them, drawn on +the blackboard, (or on paper similarly ruled,) of picture-frames and +patterns for carpets. When they can make squares well, they can be +shown how to cross them with diagonals, and make circles inside of the +squares, and outside of them, and encouraged to draw on the other side +of the slate, from their own fancy, or from objects. Entire sympathy and +no destructive criticism should meet every effort. Self-confidence is +the first requisite for success. If they think they have had success, it +is indispensable that it should be echoed from without. Of course there +will be poor perspective; and even Schmidt's method of perspective +cannot be introduced to very young children. A natural talent for +perspective sometimes shows itself, which by-and-by can be perfected by +Schmidt's method.[B] + +[Footnote B: See _Common School Journal_ for 1842-3.] + +But little children will not draw long at a time. Nice manipulation, +which is important, can be taught, and the eye for form cultivated, by +drawing for them birds and letting them prick the lines. It will enchant +them to have something pretty to carry home now and then. Perforated +board can also be used to teach them the use of a needle and thread. +They will like to make the outlines of ships and steamboats, birds, +etc., which can be drawn for them with a lead pencil on the board by the +teachers. Weaving strips of colored card-board into papers cut for them +is another enchanting amusement, and can be made subservient to teaching +them the harmonies of colors. In the latter part of the season, when +they have an accumulation of pricked birds, or have learned to draw +them, they can be allowed colors to paint them in a rough manner. It is, +perhaps, worth while to say, that, in teaching children to draw on +their slates, it is better for the teacher to draw at the moment on the +blackboard than to give them patterns of birds, utensils, etc., because +then the children will see how to begin and proceed, and are not +discouraged by the mechanical perfection of their model. + +Drawing ought always rather to precede reading and writing, as the +minute appreciation of forms is the proper preparation for these. But +reading and writing may come into Kindergarten exercises at once, if +reading is taught by the phonic method, (which saves all perplexity to +the child's brain,) and accompanied by printing on the slate. It then +alternates with other things, as one of the amusements. We will describe +how we have seen it taught. The class sat before a blackboard, with +slates and pencils. The teacher said, "Now let us make all the sounds +that we can with the lips: First, put the lips gently together and sound +m," (not _em_,)--which they all did. Then she said,--"Now let us draw +it on the blackboard,--three short straight marks by the side of each +other, and join them on the top,--that is m. What is it?" They sounded +m, and made three marks and joined them on the top, with more or less +success. The teacher said,--"Now put your lips close together and say +p." (This is mute and to be whispered). They all imitated the motion +made. She said,--"Now let us write it; one straight mark, then the +upper lip puffed out at the top." M and p, to be written and +distinguished, are perhaps enough for one lesson, which should not reach +half an hour in length. At the next lesson these were repeated again. +Then the teacher said,--"Now put your lips together and make the same +motion as you did to say p; but make a little more sound, and it will be +b" (which is sonorous). "You must write it differently from p;--you must +make a short mark and put the _under_ lip on." "Now put your teeth on +your under lip and say f." (She gave the power.) "You must write it by +making a short straight mark make a bow, and then cross it with a little +mark across the middle." "Now fix your lips in the same manner and sound +a little, and you will make v. Write it by making two little marks meet +at the bottom." + +This last letter was made a separate lesson of, and the other lessons +were reviewed. The teacher then said,--"Now you have learned some +letters,--all the lip--letters,"--making them over, and asking what each +was. She afterwards added w,--giving its power and form, and put it with +the lip-letters. At the next lesson they were told to make the letters +with their lips, and she wrote them down on the board, and then said,-- +"Now we will make some tooth-letters. Put your teeth together and say +t." (She gave the power, and showed them how to write it.) "Now put your +teeth together and make a sound and it will be d." "That is written just +like b, only we put the lip behind." "Now put your teeth together and +hiss, and then make this little crooked snake (s). Then fix your teeth +in the same manner and buzz like a bee. You write z pointed this way." +"Now put your teeth together and say j, written with a dot." At the +next lessons the throat-letters were given; first the hard guttural +was sounded, and they were told three ways to write it, c, k, q, +distinguished as _round_, _high_, and _with a tail_. C was not sounded +_see_, but _ke_ (ke, ka, ku). Another lesson gave them the soft guttural +g, but did not sound it _jee_; and the aspirate, but did not call it +_aitch_. + +Another lesson gave the vowels, (or voice-letters, as she called them,) +and it was made lively by her writing afterwards all of them in one +word, _mieaou_, and calling it the cat's song. It took from a week +to ten days to teach these letters, one lesson a day of about twenty +minutes. Then came words: mamma, papa, puss, pussy, etc. The vowels were +always sounded as in Italian, and i and y distinguished as _with the +dot_ and _with a tail_. At first only one word was the lesson, and the +letters were reviewed in their divisions of lip-letters, throat-letters, +tooth-letters, voice-letters. The latter were sounded the Italian way, +as in the words _a_rm, _e_gg, _i_nk, _o_ak, and Per_u_. This teacher had +Miss Peabody's "First Nursery Reading-Book," and when she had taught the +class to make all the words on the first page of it, she gave each of +the children the book and told them to find first one word and then +another. It was a great pleasure to them to be told that now they could +read. They were encouraged to copy the words out of the book upon their +slates. + +The "First Nursery Reading-Book" has in it _no_ words that have +exceptions in their spelling to the sounds given to the children as +the powers of the letters. Nor has it any diphthong or combinations of +letters, such as oi, ou, ch, sh, th. After they could read it at sight, +they were told that all words were not so regular, and their attention +was called to the initial sounds of thin, shin, and chin, and to the +proper diphthongs, ou, oi, and au, and they wrote words considering +these as additional characters. Then "Mother Goose" was put into their +hands, and they were made to read by rote the songs they already knew +by heart, and to copy them. It was a great entertainment to find the +_queer_ words, and these were made the nucleus of groups of similar +words which were written on the blackboard and copied on their slates. + +We have thought it worth while to give in detail this method of teaching +to read, because it is the most entertaining to children to be taught +so, and because many successful instances of the pursual of this plan +have come under our observation; and one advantage of it has been, +that the children so taught, though never going through the common +spelling-lessons, have uniformly exhibited a rare exactness in +orthography. + +In going through this process, the children learn to print very nicely, +and generally can do so sooner than they can read. It is a small matter +afterwards to teach them to turn the print into script. They should be +taught to write with the lead pencil before the pen, whose use need not +come into the Kindergarten. + +But we must not omit one of the most important exercises for children +in the Kindergarten,--that of block-building. Froebel has four Gifts of +blocks. Ronge's "Kindergarten Guide" has pages of royal octavo filled +with engraved forms that can be made by variously laying eight little +cubes and sixteen little planes two inches long, one inch broad, and +one-half an inch thick. Chairs, tables, stables, sofas, garden-seats, +and innumerable forms of symmetry, make an immense resource for +children, who also should be led to invent other forms and imitate other +objects. So quick are the fancies of children, that the blocks will +serve also as symbols of everything in Nature and imagination. We have +seen an ingenious teacher assemble a class of children around her large +table, to each of whom she had given the blocks. The first thing was to +count them, a great process of arithmetic to most of them. Then she made +something and explained it. It was perhaps a light-house,--and some +blocks would represent rocks near it to be avoided, and ships sailing in +the ocean; or perhaps it was a hen-coop, with chickens inside, and a fox +prowling about outside, and a boy who was going to catch the fox and +save the fowls. Then she told each child to make something, and when it +was done hold up a hand. The first one she asked to explain, and then +went round the class. If one began to speak before another had ended, +she would hold up her finger and say,--"It is not your turn." In the +course of the winter, she taught, over these blocks, a great deal about +the habits of animals. She studied natural history in order to be +perfectly accurate in her symbolic representation of the habitation of +each animal, and their enemies were also represented by blocks. The +children imitated these; and when they drew upon their imaginations for +facts, and made fantastic creations, she would say,--"Those, I think, +were Fairy hens" (or whatever); for it was her principle to accept +everything, and thus tempt out their invention. The great value of this +exercise is to get them into the habit of representing something they +have thought by an outward symbol. The explanations they are always +eager to give teach them to express themselves in words. Full scope is +given to invention, whether in the direction of possibilities or of the +impossibilities in which children's imaginations revel,--in either case +the child being trained to the habit of embodiment of its thought. + +Froebel thought it very desirable to have a garden where the children +could cultivate flowers. He had one which he divided into lots for the +several children, reserving a portion for his own share in which they +could assist him. He thought it the happiest mode of calling their +attention to the invisible God, whose power must be waited upon, after +the conditions for growth are carefully arranged according to _laws_ +which they were to observe. Where a garden is impossible, a flowerpot +with a plant in it for each child to take care of would do very well. + +But the best way to cultivate a sense of the presence of God is to draw +the attention to the conscience, which is very active in children, and +which seems to them (as we all can testify from our own remembrance) +another than themselves, and yet themselves. We have heard a person say, +that in her childhood she was puzzled to know which was herself, the +voice of her inclination or of her conscience, for they were palpably +two, and what a joyous thing it was when she was first convinced that +one was the Spirit of God, whom unlucky teaching had previously embodied +in a form of terror on a distant judgment-seat. Children are consecrated +as soon as they get the spiritual idea, and it may be so presented that +it shall make them happy as well as true. But the adult who enters into +such conversation with a child must be careful not to shock and profane, +instead of nurturing the soul. It is possible to avoid both discouraging +and flattering views, and to give the most tender and elevating +associations. + +But children require not only an alternation of physical and mental +amusements, but some instruction to be passively received. They delight +in stories, and a wise teacher can make this subservient to the highest +uses by reading beautiful creations of the imagination. Not only such +household-stories as "Sanford and Merton," Mrs. Farrar's "Robinson +Crusoe," and Salzmann's "Elements of Morality," but symbolization like +the heroes of Asgard, the legends of the Middle Ages, classic and +chivalric tales, the legend of Saint George, and "Pilgrim's Progress," +can in the mouth of a skilful reader be made subservient to moral +culture. The reading sessions should not exceed ten or fifteen minutes. + +Anything of the nature of scientific teaching should be done by +presenting _objects_ for examination and investigation.[C] Flowers and +insects, shells, etc., are easily handled. The observations should be +drawn out of the children, not made to them, except as corrections of +their mistakes. Experiments with the prism, and in crystallization +and transformation, are useful and desirable to awaken taste for +the sciences of Nature. In short, the Kindergarten should give the +beginnings of everything. "What is well begun is half done." + +[Footnote C: Calkin's _Object Lessons_ will give hints.] + +We must say a word about the locality and circumstances of a +Kindergarten. There is published in Lausanne, France, a newspaper +devoted to the interests of this mode of education, in whose early +numbers is described a Kindergarten; which seems to be of the nature of +a boarding-school, or, at least, the children are there all day. Each +child has a garden, and there is one besides where they work in common. +There are accommodations for keeping animals, and miniature tools to do +mechanical labor of various kinds. In short, it is a child's world. But +in this country, especially in New England, parents would not consent +to be so much separated from their children, and a few hours of +Kindergarten in the early part of the day will serve an excellent +purpose,--using up the effervescent activity of children, who may +healthily be left to themselves the rest of the time, to play or rest, +comparatively unwatched. + +Two rooms are indispensable, if there is any variety of age. It is +desirable that one should be sequestrated to the quiet employments. A +pianoforte is desirable, to lead the singing, and accompany the plays, +gymnastics, frequent marchings, and dancing, when that is taught,--which +it should be. But a hand-organ which plays fourteen tunes will help to +supply the want of a piano, and a guitar in the hands of a ready teacher +will do better than nothing. + +Sometimes a genial mother and daughters might have a Kindergarten, and +devote themselves and the house to it, especially if they live in one +of our beautiful country-towns or cities. The habit, in the city of New +York, of sending children to school in an omnibus, hired to go round the +city and pick them up, suggests the possibility of a Kindergarten in one +of those beautiful residences up in town, where there is a garden before +or behind the house. It is impossible to keep Kindergarten _by the +way_. It must be the main business of those who undertake it; for it is +necessary that every individual child should be borne, as it were, on +the heart of the _garteners_, in order that it be _inspired_ with order, +truth, and goodness. To develop a child from within outwards, we must +plunge ourselves into its peculiarity of imagination and feeling. No +one person could possibly endure such absorption, of life in labor +unrelieved, and consequently two or three should unite in the +undertaking in order to be able to relieve each other from the enormous +strain on life. The compensations are, however, great. The charm of the +various individuality, and of the refreshing presence of conscience yet +unprofaned, is greater than can be found elsewhere in this work-day +world. Those were not idle words which came from the lips of Wisdom +Incarnate:--"Their angels do always behold the face of my Father": "Of +such is the kingdom of heaven." + + + + +A PICTURE. + +[AFTER WITHER.] + + + Sweet child, I prithee stand, + While I try my novel hand + At a portrait of thy face, + With its simple childish grace. + + Cheeks as soft and finely hued + As the fleecy cloud imbued + With the roseate tint of morn + Ere the golden sun is born:-- + Lips that like a rose-hedge curl, + Guarding well the gates of pearl, + --What care I for pearly gate? + By the rose-hedge will I wait:-- + Chin that rounds with outline fine, + Melting off in hazy line; + As in misty summer noon, + Or beneath the harvest moon, + Curves the smooth and sandy shore, + Flowing off in dimness hoar:-- + Eyes that roam like timid deer + Sheltered by a thicket near, + Peeping out between the boughs, + Or that, trusting, safely browse:-- + Arched o'er all the forehead pure, + Giving us the prescience sure + Of an ever-growing light; + As in deepening summer night, + Over fields to ripen soon + Hangs the silver crescent moon. + + * * * * * + + +TWO AND ONE. + + +I. + + +The winter sun streamed pleasantly into the room. On the tables lay the +mother's work of the morning,--the neatly folded clothes she had just +been ironing. A window was opened a little way to let some air into the +room too closely heated by the brisk fire. The air fanned the leaves of +the ivy-plant that stood in the window, and of the primrose which +seemed ready to open in the warm sun. Above, there hung a cage, and a +canary-bird shouted out now and then its pleasure at the sunny day, with +a half-dream perhaps of a tropical climate in the tropical air with +which the coal-fire filled the room. Mrs. Schroder leaned back in her +old-fashioned rocking-chair, and folded her hands, one over the other, +ready to rest after her morning's labor. She was willing to take the +repose won by her work; indeed, this was the only way she had managed to +preserve her strength for all the work it was necessary for her to do. +She had been conscious that her powers had answered for just so much and +no more, and she had never been able to make further demands upon them. + +When years before she was left a widow, with two sons to support and +educate, all her friends and neighbors prophesied that her health would +prove unequal to either work, and agreed that it was very fortunate that +she had a rich relation or two to help her. But, unfortunately, the rich +relations preferred helping only in their own way. One uncle agreed to +send the older boy to his father's relations in Germany, while the other +wished to take the younger with him to his home in the South; and an +aunt-in-law promised Mrs. Schroder work enough as seamstress to support +herself. + +It is singular how hard it is, for those who have large means and +resources, to understand how to supply the little wants and needs of +those less fortunate. The smallest stream in the mountains will find its +way through some little channel, over rocks, or slowly through quiet +meadows, into the great rivers, and finally feeds the deep sea, which +is very thankless, and thinks little of restoring what is so prodigally +poured into it. It only knows how to sway up with its grand tide upon +the broad beaches, or to wrestle with turreted rocks, or, for some +miles, perhaps, up the great rivers, it is willing to leave some flavor +of its salt strength. So it is that we little ones, to the last, pour +out our little stores into the great seas of wealth,--and the Neptunes, +the gods of riches, scarcely know how to return us our due, if they +would. + +When Mrs. Schroder, then, refused these kindly offers, because she knew +that her husband had wished his boys should be brought up together and +in America, and because she could not separate them from each other or +from herself, the relations thought best to leave her to her own will, +and drew back, feeling that they had done their part for humanity and +kinship. Now and then Mrs. Schroder received a present of a worn +shawl or a bonnet out of date, and one New Year there came inclosed a +dollar-bill apiece for the boys. Ernest threw his into the fire before +his mother could stop him, while Harry said he would spend his for the +very meanest thing he could think of; and that very night he bought some +sausages with it, to satisfy, as he said, only their lowest wants. + +Mrs. Schroder succeeded in carrying out her will, in spite of prophecy. +Her very delicacy of body led her to husband her strength, while the +boys very early learned that they must help their mother to get through +her day's work. Her feebleness of health helped her, too, in another +way,--by stopping their boy-quarrels. + +"Boys, don't wrangle so! If you knew how it makes my head ache!" + +When these words came from the mother resting in her chair, the quarrel +ceased suddenly. It ended without settlement, to be sure, which is the +best way of finishing up quarrels. There are always seeds of new wars +sown in treaties of peace. Austria is not content with her share of +Poland, and Russia privately determines upon another bite of Turkey. +John thinks it very unjust that he must give up his ball to Tom, and +resolves to have the matter out when they get down into the street; +while Tom, equally dissatisfied, feels that he has been treated like a +baby, and despises the umpire for the partial decision. + +These two boys, indeed, had their perpetual quarrel. Harry, the older, +always got on in the world. He had a strong arm, a jolly face, and a +solid opinion of himself that made its way without his asking for it. +Ernest, on the other hand, was obliged to be constantly dependent on his +brother for defence, for his position with other boys at school,--as he +grew up, for his position in life, even. Harry was the favorite always. +The schoolmaster--or teacher, as we call him nowadays--liked Harry best, +although he was always in scrapes, and often behindhand in his studies, +while Ernest was punctual, quiet, and always knew his lessons, though +his eyes looked dreamily through his books rather than into them. + +Harry had great respect for Ernest's talent, made way for it, would +willingly work for him. Ernest accepted these benefits: he could not +help it, they were so generously offered. But the consciousness that +he could not live without them weighed him down and made him moody. He +alternately reproached himself for his ingratitude, and his brother for +his favors. Sometimes he called himself a slave for being willing to +accept them; at other times he would blame himself as a tyrant for +making such demands upon an elder brother. + +As Mrs. Schroder leaned back in her chair after her morning's labor, +the door opened, and a young girl came into the room. She had a fresh, +bright face, a brown complexion, a full, round figure. She came in +quickly, nodded cheerily to Mrs. Schroder, and knelt down in front of +the fire to warm her hands. + +"I did want to come in this morning," she said,--"the very last day! I +should have liked to help you about Ernest's things. But Aunt Martha +must needs have a supernumerary wash, and I have just come in from +hanging the last of the clothes upon the line." + +"It is very good of you, Violet," answered Mrs. Schroder, "but I was +glad to-day to have plenty to do. It is the thinking that troubles me. +My boys are grown up into men, and Ernest is going! It is our first +parting. To-day I would rather work than think." + +Violet was the young girl's name. A stranger might think that the name +did not suit her. In her manner was nothing of the shrinking nature that +is a characteristic of the violet. Timidity and reserve she probably did +have somewhere in her heart,--as all women do,--but it had never been +her part to play them out. She had all her life been called upon to show +only energy, activity, and self-reliance. She was an only child, and +had been obliged to be son and daughter, brother and sister in one. Her +father was the owner of the house in which were the rooms occupied by +Mrs. Schroder and her sons. The little shop on the lower floor was his +place of business. He was a watchmaker, had a few clocks on the shelves +of his small establishment, and a limited display of jewelry in the +window, together with a supply of watch-keys, and minute-hands and +hour-hands for decayed watches. For though his sign proclaimed him a +watchmaker, his occupation perforce was rather that of repairing and +cleaning watches and clocks than in the higher branch of creation. + +Violet's childhood was happy enough. She was left in unrestrained +liberty outside of the little back-parlor, where her Aunt Martha +held sway. Out of school-hours, her joy and delight were to join the +school-boys in their wildest plays. She climbed fences, raced up and +down alley-ways, stormed inoffensive door-yards, chased wandering +cats with the best of them. She was a favorite champion among the +boys,--placed at difficult points of espionage, whether it were over +beast, man, woman, or boy. She was proud of mounting some imaginary +rampart, or defending some dangerous position. Sometimes a taunt was +hurled from the enemy upon her allies for associating with a "girl;" but +it always received a contemptuous answer,--"You'd better look out, she +could lick any one of you!" And at the reply, Violet would look down +from her post on the picketed fence, shake her long curls triumphantly, +and climb to some place inaccessible to the enemy, to show how useful +her agility could be to her own party. + +The time of sorrow came at twilight, when the boys separated for their +homes,--when Harry and Ernest clattered up to their mother's rooms. They +could be boys still. They might throw open the house-doors with a +shout and halloo, and fling away caps and boots with no more than an +uncared-for reprimand. But Violet must go noiselessly through the dark +entry, and, as she turned to close the door that let her into the +parlor, she was greeted by Aunt Martha's "Now do shut the door quietly!" +As she lowered the latch without any sound, she would say to herself, +"Why is it that boys must have all the fun, and girls all the work?" +She felt as if she shut out liberty and put on chains. Her work began +then,--to lay the tea-table, to fetch and carry as Aunt Martha ordered. +All this was pleasanter than the quiet evening that followed, because +she liked the occupation and motion. But to be quiet the whole evening, +that was a trial! After the tea-things were cleared away, she would +sit awhile by the stove, imagining all sorts of excitements in the +combustion within; but she could not keep still long without letting a +clatter of shovel and tongs, or some vigorous blows of the poker, show +what a glorious drum she thought the stove would make. Or if Aunt Martha +suggested her unloved and neglected dolls, she would retire to the +corner with them inevitably to come back in disgrace. Either the large +wooden-headed doll came noisily down from the high-backed chair, where +she had been placed as the Maid of Saragossa, or a suspicious smell of +burning arose, when Joan of Arc really did take fire from the candle on +her imaginary funeral-pile. Knitting was no more of a sedative, though +for many years it had stilled Aunt Martha's nerves. It was singular how +the cat contrived always to get hold of Violet's ball of yarn and keep +it, in spite of Violet's activity and the jolly chase she had for it all +round the room, over chairs and under tables. Even her father, during +these long evenings, often looked up over his round spectacles, through +which he was perusing a volume of the "Encyclopedia," to wonder if +Violet could never be quiet. + +As she grew up, there was activity enough in her life, through which her +temperament could let off its steam: a large house to be cared for and +kept in order, some of the lodgers to be waited upon, and Aunt Martha, +with her failing strength, more exacting than ever. Her evenings now +were her happy times, for she frequently spent them in Mrs. Schroder's +room. One of the economies in the Schroders' life was that their +pleasures were so cheap. What with Harry's genial gayety and Ernest's +spiritual humor, and the gayety and humor of the friends that loved +them, they did not have to pay for their hilarity on the stage. There +were quiet evenings and noisy ones, and Violet liked them both. She +liked to study languages with Ernest; she liked the books from the +City Library that they read aloud,--romances that were taken for +Mrs. Schroder's pleasure, Ruskins which Ernest enjoyed, and Harry's +favorites, which, to tell the truth, were few. He begged to be made the +reader,--otherwise, he confessed, he was in danger of falling asleep. + +Violet had grown up into a woman, and the boys had become men; and now +she was kneeling in front of Mrs. Schroder's fire. + +"Ernest's last day at home," she said, dreamily. "Oh, now I begin to +pity Harry!" + +"To pity Harry?" said Mrs. Schroder. "Yes, indeed! But it is Ernest that +I think of most. He is going away among strangers. He depends upon Harry +far more than Harry depends upon him." + +"It is just that," said Violet. "Harry has always been the one to give. +But it will be changed now, when Ernest comes home. You see, he will be +great then. He has been dependent upon us, all along, because genius +must move so slowly at first; but when he comes back, he will be above +us, and, oh! how shall we know where to find him?" + +"You do not mean that my boy will look down upon his mother?" said Mrs. +Schroder, raising herself in her chair. + +"Look down upon us?" cried Violet. "Oh, no! it is only the little that +do that, that they may appear to be high. The truly great never look +down. They are kneeling already, and they look up. If they only would +look down upon us! But it is the old story: the body can do for a while +without the spirit, can make its way in the world for a little, and +meantime the spirit is dependent upon the body. Of course it could not +live without the body,--what we call life. But by-and-by spirit must +assert itself, and find its wings. And where, oh, where, will it rise +to? Above us,--above us all!" + +"How strangely you talk!" said Mrs. Schroder, looking into Violet's +face. "What has this to do with poor Ernest?" + +"I was thinking of poor Harry," said Violet. "All this time he has been +working for Ernest. Harry has earned the money with which Ernest goes +abroad,--which he has lived upon all these years,--not only his daily +bread, but what his talent, his genius, whatever it is, has fed itself +with. Ernest is too unpractical to have been able even to feed himself!" + +"And he knows it, my poor Ernest!" said Mrs. Schroder. "This is why +he should be pitied. It is hard for a generous nature to owe all to +another. It has weighed Ernest down; it has embittered the love of the +two brothers." + +"But it is more bitter for Harry," persisted Violet. "All this time +Ernest could think of the grand return he could bring when his time +should come. But Harry! He brings the clay out of which Ernest moulds +the statue; but the spirit that Ernest breathes into the form,--will +Harry understand it or appreciate it? The body is very reverent of the +soul. But I think the spirit is not grateful enough to the body. There +comes a time when it says to it, 'I can do without thee!' and spurns the +kind comrade which has helped it on so far. Yet it could not have done +without the joy of color and form, of sight and hearing, that the body +has helped it to." + +"You do not mean that Ernest will ever spurn Harry?--they are brothers!" +said poor Mrs. Schroder. + +Violet looked round and saw the troubled expression in Mrs. Schroder's +face, and laughed as she laid her head caressingly in her friend's lap. + +"I have frightened you with my talk," she said. "I believe the hot air +in the room bewildered my senses and set me dreaming. Yes, Harry and +Ernest are brothers, and I believe they will always work together and +for each other. I have no business with forebodings, this laughing, +sunny day. The March sun is melting the icicles, and they came +clattering down upon me, as I was in the yard, with a happy, twinkling, +childish laugh. There are spring sounds all about, water melting and +dripping everywhere, full of joy. I am the last person, dear mother +Schroder, to make you feel sad." + +Violet got up quickly, and busied herself about the room: filled the +canary's cup with water, drew out the table, and made all the usual +preparations necessary for dinner, talking all the time gayly, till she +had dispersed all the clouds on Mrs. Schroder's brow, and then turned to +go away. + +"You will stay and see Harry and Ernest?" asked Mrs. Schroder. "They +have gone to make the last arrangements." + +"Not now," said Violet. "They will like to be alone with you. I will see +Ernest to bid him good-bye." + + +II. + + +Two years passed away. At the end of this time Mrs. Schroder died. They +had passed on, as years go, slowly and quickly. Sometimes, as a carriage +takes us through narrow city-streets, and we look in at the windows we +are passing, we wonder at the close life that is going on behind them, +and we say to ourselves, "How slow the life must be within those +confined walls!" At other times, when our own life is cramped or jarred +by circumstances, we look with envy on the happy family-circles we see +smiling within, and have a fancy that the roses have fallen to others, +and we only have the thorns. There are full years, and there are years +of famine, just as there come moments to all that seem like a life-time, +and lives that hurry themselves away in a passing of the pendulum. It is +of no use to shake the hour-glass; yet, when we are counting upon time, +the sands hurry down like snow-flakes. + +It was true, as Violet had foreboded, that Harry missed Ernest. He went +heavily about his work, and the house seemed silent without him. Harry +confessed this sadly to Violet, when his brother had been gone about a +year. They had heard from Ernest in Florence, that he was getting on +well. He had found occupation in the workshop of a famous sculptor, and +had time besides to carry out some of his own designs. + +"He writes me," said Harry, "that he will be able now to support +himself, and that he does not need my help. Do you know, Violet, that +takes the life out of me? I feel as if I had nothing to work for. I +always felt a pride in working for Ernest, because I thought he was +fitted for something better. Violet, it saddens me to think he can do +without me. I go to my daily work; I lift my hammer and let it fall; but +it is all mechanically; there is no vital force in the blow. It is hard +to live without him." + +"This is what I was afraid of," said Violet. "I was afraid he would +think he could do without us. But he cannot do without you." + +"Say that he cannot do without _us_" said Harry; "for he needs you, as I +need you, and the question is, with which the need is greater." + +Violet turned red and pale, and said,-- + +"We cannot answer that question yet." + +After Mrs. Schroder died, it was sad enough in the old rooms. In the +daytime, when Harry was away at his work, Violet would go up-stairs and +put all things in order, and make them look as nearly as possible as +they did when the mother was there. Harry came to pass his evenings with +Violet. + +A few days after his mother's death, he said to Violet,-- + +"Is it not time for you to tell me that it is I who need you more than +Ernest? He writes very happily now. He is succeeding; he has an order +for his statue. He writes and thinks of nothing else but what he will +create,--of the ideas that have been waiting for an expression. I am a +carpenter still, I shall never be more, and my work will always be less +and lower than my love. Could you be satisfied with him? He has attained +now, Ernest has, what he was looking for; and have I not a right to my +reward?" + +The tears tumbled from Violet's eyes. + +"Dear, noble Harry! I am not ready for you yet. I do believe he is above +us both, and satisfied to be above us both; but I am not ready yet." + +A day or two afterwards, Harry brought Violet a letter from Italy. It +was from an artist friend of Ernest's, whose wife and mother had kindly +received him into their home. Carlo wrote now that Ernest had been taken +very ill. They thought him recovering, but he was still very low, and +his mind depressed, and he continued scarcely conscious of those around +him. He talked wildly, and begged that his home friends would come to +him; and though his new Italian friends promised him all that kindness +could give, Carlo wrote to ask if it were not possible for his brother +or his mother to come out. He had been working very hard, was just +finishing an order that had occupied him the last year, and he had +overtasked his mind as well as his body. + +"You will go to him!" exclaimed Violet, when she had read the letter. + +"If nothing better can be done," answered Harry. "Only yesterday I made +a contract for work with a hard master. It would be difficult to break +it; but I will do it gladly, if there is nothing better to be done." + +"You mean that you would like to have me go to Ernest," said Violet. + +"Will you go?" asked Harry. "That will be the very best thing." + +Aunt Martha broke in here. She had been sitting quietly at the other +side of the table, as usual, apparently engrossed with her knitting. + +"You do not mean to send Violet to Italy, and to take care of Ernest?" +she exclaimed. "What are you thinking of? I would never consent to +Violet's going alone; it would not be proper." + +Violet grew crimson at the reproof. She was standing beneath the light, +and turned away her head. + +"Not if I were Harry's betrothed?" she asked. + +Aunt Martha looked up quickly. She saw the glad, relieved expression of +Harry's face. + +"If you are engaged to Harry, that is different, indeed!" she said. + +It did make a difference in Aunt Martha's thoughts. In the first place, +it gave her pleasure. Harry was well-to-do in, the world. He would make +a good husband for Violet, and a kindly one. She liked him better than +she did Ernest. She had supposed Violet would marry one or other of the +boys, and, "just because things went at cross-grain in the world," she +had always supposed Violet would prefer Ernest. She had never liked him +herself. He was always spinning cobwebs in his brain; she never could +understand a word of his talk. She did not believe he would live, and +then Violet would be left a poor widow, as his mother had been left when +her Hermann died. She remembered all about that. Ernest's absence had +encouraged her with regard to Harry; but two years had passed, and it +seemed to her the two were no nearer an engagement. + +But now it was settled; and if this foolish plan of Violet's going to +Italy had brought it about, the plan itself wore a different color. + +Aunt Martha said no more of the impropriety. She reserved her +complainings for the subject of the trouble of getting Violet ready, all +of a sudden, for such a voyage. + +Little trouble fell to Aunt Martha's share. Violet went about it gladly. +She advised directly with a friend who could tell her from experience +exactly how little she would want, while Harry completed all the +business arrangements. The activity, the adventure of it, suited +Violet's old tastes. She had no dread of a solitary voyage, of passing +through countries whose languages she could not speak. Though burdened +with anxiety for Ernest and for Harry, she went away with a glad heart. +Unconsciously to herself, she reversed her old exclamation, saying to +herself,-- + +"The men, indeed, should not have all the work, and the women all the +play!" + +The journey was in fact easily accomplished. At another time Violet's +thoughts would have been occupied with the scenes she passed through. +Now she travelled as a devotee travels heavenward, making a monastery of +the world, and convent-walls out of rays from Paradise. She thought +only of the end of her journey; and everything touched her through the +throbbings of her heart. On shipboard, she was busy with the poor old +sick father whom his children were carrying home to his native land. In +passing through Paris, she used all her time in helping a sister to find +a brother; because her energy was always helpful. In travelling across +France, she looked at her companions, asking herself to what home they +were going, what friends they were bound to meet. From Marseilles to +Leghorn, she was the only one of the women-passengers who was not sick; +and she was called upon for help in different languages, which she could +understand only through the teachings of her heart. + +It was this same teacher that led her to understand Ernest's friends in +Florence, when she had found them, and that led them to understand her. +Ernest was in much the same state as when they wrote. He was growing +stronger, but his mind seemed to wander. + +"And do you know, dear lady," said Monica, Carlo's mother, "that we fear +he has been starving,--starving, too, when we, his friends, had plenty, +and would have been glad to give him? He was to have been paid for his +work when he had finished it; and he had given up his other work for his +master, that be might complete his own statue. Oh, you should see that! +He is putting it into the marble,--or taking it out, rather, for it has +life almost, and springs from the stone." + +"But Ernest?" asked Violet. + +"Well, then, just for want of money, he was starving,--so the doctor +says, now. I suppose he was too proud to write home for money, and his +wages had stopped. And he was too proud to eat our bread. That was hard +of him. Just the poor food that we have, to think he should have been +too proud to let us give it him!--that was not kind." + +Ernest did not recognize Violet at first, but she took her place in the +daily care of him. Monica begged that she would prepare food for him +such as he had been used to have at home. She was very sure that would +cure him. It would be almost as good for him as his native air. She +was very glad a woman had come to take care of him. "His brother's +betrothed,--a sister,--she would bring him back to life as no one else +could." + +Violet did bring him back to life. Ernest had become so accustomed to +her presence in his half-conscious state, that he never showed surprise +at finding her there. He hardly showed pleasure; only in her absence his +feverish restlessness returned; in her presence he was quiet. + +He grew strong enough to come out into the air to walk a little. + +"I must go to work soon," he said one day. "Monsieur will be coming for +his Psyche." + +"Your Psyche! I have not seen it!" exclaimed Violet. "I have not dared +to raise the covering." + +They went in to look at it. Violet stood silent before it. Yes, as +Monica had said, it was ready to spring from the marble. It seemed +almost too spiritual for form, it scarcely needed the wings for flight, +it was ethereal already,--marble only so long as it remained unfinished. + +At last Violet spoke. + +"Do not let it go! Do not finish it; it will leave the marble then, I +know! Oh, Ernest, you have seen the spirit, and the spirit only! Could +not you hold it to earth more closely than that? It was too bold a +thought of you to try to mould the spirit alone. Is not the body +precious, too? Why wilt you be so careless of that?" + +"If the body would care for me," said Ernest, "I would care for the +body. Indeed, this work shows that I have cared for the body," he went +on. "One of these days, I shall receive money for my work; I have +already sold my Psyche. One lives on money, you know. But it is but a +poor battle,--the battle of life. I shall finish my Psyche, give it to +the man who buys it, and then"---- + +"And then you will come home, come home to us!" said Violet; "and we +will take care of you. You shall not miss your Psyche!" + +"And then," continued Ernest, shaking his head, "then I shall go into +Sicily. I shall help Garibaldi. I shall join the Italian cause." + +"Garibaldi! The cause!" exclaimed Violet. "Are you not ashamed to plead +it? You know you would go then not for others, but to throw away your +own life! You are tired of living, and you seek that way to rid yourself +of life! Confess it at once!" + +"Very well, then," answered Ernest, "it is so." + +"Then do not sully a good cause with a traitor's help," said Violet, +"nor take its noble name. The life you offer would be worth no more than +a spent ball. You have been a coward in your own fight, and Garibaldi +does not--nor does Italy--want a coward in his ranks. Oh, Ernest, +forgive me my hard words! but it is our life that you are spending so +freely, it is our blood that you want to pour out! If you cannot live +for yourself, for me, will you not live for Harry's sake?" + +"For you, for you, Heart's-Ease!" exclaimed Ernest, calling Violet by +one of her old childish names, "But Harry lives for you, and you for +him; and God knows there is no life left for me. But you are right: I am +a coward and a bungler, because I can create no life. I give myself to +you and him." + +Violet stood long before the statue of Psyche, cold as the marble, with +hot fires raging within. + +"He loves me, loves me as Harry does! His love is deeper, +perhaps,--higher, perhaps. He was not above me,--he lifted me above +himself, looked up to me! He dies for me!" + +Presently she found Ernest. + +"Ernest, you say you will do as we wish. I must go home directly, and +without you. I shall take a vessel from Leghorn. Harry and I planned my +going home that way. It is less expensive, more direct; and I confess I +do not feel so strong about going home alone as I did in coming. My head +is full of thoughts, and I could not take care of myself; but I would +rather go alone. You will stay here, and we will write to you, or Harry +will come for you. But you must take care of yourself; you must not +starve yourself." + +Her Italian friends accompanied her to the vessel and bade her good-bye, +Ernest was with them. She wrote to Harry the day she sailed. The vessel +looked comfortable enough; it was well-laden, and in its hold was the +marble statue of a great man,--great in worth as well as in weight. + +A few weeks after Violet left, Harry appeared in Florence. He had just +missed her letter. + +"I came to bring you both home," he said. "I finished my contract +successfully, and gave myself this little vacation." + +Harry was dismayed to find that Violet was gone. + +"But we will return directly, and arrive in time, perhaps, to greet her +as she gets home." + +Monica urged,-- + +"But you must not keep him long. See how much he has done in Italy! You +will see he must come back again." + +"Monsieur" had been for his statue, and was to send for it the next day, +more than satisfied with it. + +Harry was astonished. + +"Five hundred dollars! It would take me long enough to work that out! +Ah, Ernest, your hammering is worth more than mine!" + +Harry's surprise was not merely for the money earned. When he saw the +white marble figure, which brought into the poor room where it stood +grandeur and riches and life and grace, he wondered still more. + +"I see now," he said. "You spent your life on this. No wonder you were +starving when your spirit was putting itself into this mould!" + +Harry was in a hurry to return. Ernest's little affairs were quickly +settled. Harry was surprised to find Italian life was so like home life +in this one thing: he had been treated so kindly, just as he would have +been in his own home,--just as Mrs. Schroder, and even Aunt Martha, +would have treated a poor Italian stranger who had sought a lodging in +their house; they had welcomed Harry with the same warmth and feeling +with which they had all along cared for Ernest. This was something that +Harry knew how to translate. + +"When we were boys," he said to Ernest, as they set out to return, "and +you used to talk about Europe, we little thought I should travel into it +so carelessly as I did when I came here. I crossed it much as a pair of +compasses would on the map: my only points of rest were the home I left +and the one I was reaching for." + +Much in the same way they passed through it again. Harry spoke of +and observed outward things, but everything showed that it was but a +superficial observation. His thoughts were with Violet. + +"'The Nereïd!' are you very sure the Nereïd is a sound vessel?" he often +asked. + +"What should I know of the Nereïd?" at last answered Ernest, +impatiently. + +"I believe you don't care a rush for Violet!" cried Harry. "You can have +dreams instead! Your Psyche, your winged angels and all your visions, +they suffice you. While for me,--I tell you, Ernest, she is my flesh and +blood, my meat and drink. To think of her alone on that ocean drives me +wild; that inexorable sea haunts me night and day." He turned to look at +Ernest, and saw him pale and livid. + +"God forgive me!" he said. "I know you love her, too! But it is our old +quarrel; we cannot understand each other, yet cannot live either of us +without the other. Yet I am glad to quarrel even in the old way. That is +pleasant, after all, is it not?" + +They had a long, stormy voyage home; and a delay in crossing France had +made them miss the steamer they hoped to take. At each delay, Ernest +grew more silent, sadder, his face darker, his features thinner and more +sharpened. Harry was wild in his impatience, and angry, but more and +more thoughtful and careful for Ernest. + +At last they reached the harbor. A friend met them who had been warned +of their arrival by telegraph from Halifax. He met them to tell them of +ill news; they would rather hear it from him. + +The Nereïd was lost,--lost just outside the Bay,--the vessel, the crew, +all the passengers,--in a fearful storm of a week ago, the very storm +that had delayed their own passage. + +"Let us go home," said Harry. "Where is it?" asked Ernest. "Why were we +not lost in the same storm?" cried Harry. "How could we pass quietly +along the very place?" + +The brothers went home into the old room. Kindly hands had been caring +for it,--had tried to place all things in their accustomed order. Even +the canary had come back from Aunt Martha's parlor. + +There was a letter on the table. Harry saw that only. It was Violet's +letter, which she wrote on leaving Leghorn. He tore it from its +cover,--then gave it, opened, to Ernest. + +"You must read it for me,--I cannot!" and he hurried into an inner room. + +Ernest held the letter helplessly and looked round. For him there was +a double desolation in the room. The books stood untouched upon the +shelves; his mother's work-basket was laid aside. Suddenly there came +back to him the memory of that last day at home,--the joyous spring-day +in March,--which was so full of gay sounds. The clatter of the dropping +ice, the happy laugh of the water breaking into freedom, the song of the +canary, now hushed by the presence of strangers,--the thoughts of these +made gay even that moment of parting. And with them came the image of +the dear mother and of the warm-hearted Violet. Oh, the parting was +happier than the return! Now there was silence in the room, and +absence,--such unuse about all things,--such a terrible stillness! He +longed for a voice, for a sound, for words. + +In his hands were words, her own, her last words. Half unconsciously he +read through the letter, as if unwillingly too, because it might not +belong to him. Yet they were her words, and for him. + +"DEAR HARRY,-- + +"Do you know that I love him?--that I love Ernest? I ought to have known +it, just because I did not know how to confess it to myself or you. I +thought he was above us both; and when I pitied myself that he could not +love me, I pitied you, and my pity, perhaps, I mistook for love of you. +Perhaps I mistook it, for I know not but I was conscious all the time of +loving him. I learned the truth when I stood by the side of his Psyche, +and saw, that, though she hovered from the marble, though he had won +fame and success, he was unsatisfied still. It is true, he must always +remain unsatisfied, because it is his genius that thirsts, and it is my +ideal that he loves, not me. But he is dying; he asks for me. You never +could refuse him what he asked. You will give me to him? If you were not +so generous and noble-hearted, I could not ask you both for your pardon +and your pity. But you are both, and will do with me as you will. + +"Your + +"VIOLET." + +As Ernest finished reading, as he was fully comprehending the meaning of +the words which at first had struck him idly, Harry opened the door and +came in. Ernest could not look up at first. He thought, perhaps, he was +about to darken the sorrow already heavy enough upon his brother. + +But when Harry spoke and Ernest looked into his face, he saw there the +usual clear, strong expression. + +"I am going to tell you, Ernest, what I should have said before,--what I +went to Florence to tell you. + +"After Violet left, the whole truth began to come upon me. She loved +you; I had no right to her. She pitied me; that was why she clung to +me. You know I cannot think quickly. It was long before it all came out +clearly; but when it did come, I was anxious to act directly. I had +finished my work; I went to tell you that Violet was yours; she should +stay with you in that warm Italian sir that you liked so much; she +should bring you back to life. But I was too late. I know not if it is +my failure that has brought about this sorrow, or if God has taken it +into His own hands. I only know that she was yours living, she is yours +now. I must tell you that in the first moment of that terrible shock of +the loss, there came a wicked, selfish gleam of gladness that I had not +given her up to you. But I have wiped that out with my tears, and I can +tell you without shame that is yours, that I have given her to you." + +"We can both love her now," said Ernest. + +"If she were living, she might have separated us," said Harry; "but +since God has taken her, she makes us one." + +And the brothers read together Violet's letter. + + * * * * * + + +THE NEW ATLANTIC CABLE. + + +When the indefatigable Cyrus told our people, five years ago, that he +was going to lay a telegraph-cable in the bed of the ocean between +America and Europe, and place New York and London in instantaneous +communication, our wide-awake and enterprising fellow-citizens said very +coolly that they should like to see him do it!--a phrase intended to +convey the idea that in their opinion he had promised a great deal more +than he could perform. But Cyrus was as good as his word. The cable was +laid, and worked for the space of three weeks, conveying between the Old +and New World four hundred messages of all sorts, and some of them of +the greatest importance. Four years have elapsed since the fulfilment +of that promise, and now Mr. Field comes again before the public and +announces that a new Atlantic cable is going to be laid down, which +is not only going to work, but is to be a permanent success; and this +promise will likewise be fulfilled. You may shrug your shoulders, my +friend, and look incredulous, but I assure you the grand idea will be +realized, and speedily. I have been heretofore as incredulous as any +one; but having examined the evidence in its favor, I am fully convinced +not only of the feasibility of laying a cable, and of the certainty +of its practical operation when laid, but of its complete +indestructibility. If you will accompany me through the following +pages, my doubting friend, I will convince you of the correctness of my +conclusions. + +When the fact of the successful laying of the old Atlantic cable was +known, there was no class of people in this country more surprised at +the result than the electricians, engineers, and practical telegraphers. +Meeting a friend of mine, an electrician, and who, by the way, is also +a great mathematician, and, like all of his class, inclined to be very +exact in his statements, I exclaimed, in all the warmth and exuberance +of feeling engendered by so great an event,-- + +"Isn't it glorious, this idea of being able to send our lightning across +the ocean, and to talk with London and Paris as readily as we do with +New York and New Orleans?" + +"It is, indeed," responded my friend, with equal enthusiasm; "my hopes +are more than realized by this wonderful achievement." + +"Hopes realized!" exclaimed I. "Why, I didn't consider there was one +chance in a thousand of success,--did you?" + +"Why, yes," replied my exact mathematical friend; "I didn't think the +chances so much against the success of the enterprise as that. From the +deductions which I drew from a very careful examination of all the facts +I could obtain, I concluded that the chances of absolute failure were +about ninety-seven and a half per cent.!" + +For many of the facts contained in this article I am indebted to the +very clear and able address delivered by Mr. Cyrus W. Field before the +American Geographical and Statistical Society, at Clinton Hall, New +York, in May last, upon the prospects of the Atlantic telegraph. + +At the start, of course, every one was very ignorant of the work to be +done in establishing a telegraph across the ocean. Submarine telegraphy +was in its infancy, and aërial telegraphy had scarcely outgrown its +swaddling-clothes. We had to grope our way in the dark. It was only by +repeated experiments and repeated failures that we were able to find out +all the conditions of success. + +The Atlantic telegraph, it is said by some, was a failure. Well, if it +were so, replies Mr. Field, I should say (as is said of many a man, that +he did more by his death than by his life) that even in its failure it +has been of immense benefit to the science of the world, for it has been +the great experimenting cable. No electrician ever had so long a line to +work upon before; and hence the science of submarine telegraphy never +made such rapid progress as after that great experiment. In fact, all +cables that have since been laid, where the managers availed themselves +of the knowledge and experience obtained by the Atlantic cable, have +been perfectly successful. All these triumphs over the sea are greatly +indebted to the bold attempt to cross the Atlantic made four years ago. + +The first Atlantic cable, therefore, has accomplished a great work in +deep-sea telegraphy, a branch of the art but little known before. In one +sense it was a failure. In another it was a brilliant success. Despite +every disadvantage, it was laid across the ocean; it was stretched from +shore to shore; and for three weeks it continued to operate,--a time +long enough to settle forever the scientific question whether it was +possible to communicate between two continents so far apart. This was +the work of the first Atlantic telegraph; and if it lies silent at the +bottom of the ocean till the destruction of the globe, it has done +enough for the science of the world and the benefit of mankind to +entitle it to be held in honored and blessed memory. + +Now, as to the prospect of success in another attempt to lay a telegraph +across the ocean. The most erroneous opinions prevail as to the +difficulties of laying submarine telegraphs in general, and securing +them against injury. It is commonly supposed that the number of failures +is much greater than of successes; whereas the fact is, that the later +attempts, where made with proper care, have been almost uniformly +successful. In proof of this I will refer to the printed "List of all +the Submarine Telegraph-Cables manufactured and laid down by Messrs. +Glass, Elliot, & Co., of London," from which it appears that within the +space of eight years, from 1854 to 1862, they have manufactured and laid +down twenty-five different cables, among which are included three of +the longest lines connecting England with the Continent,--namely, from +England to Holland, 140 miles, to Hanover, 280 miles, and to Denmark, +368 miles,--and the principal lines in the Mediterranean,--as from Italy +to Corsica and thence to Toulon, from Malta to Sicily, and from Corfu to +Otranto, and besides these, the two chief of all, that from France to +Algiers, 520 miles, laid in 1860, and the other, laid only last year, +from Malta to Alexandria, 1,535 miles! All together the lines laid by +these manufacturers comprise a total of 3,739 miles; and though some +have been lying at the bottom of the sea and working for eight years, +each one of them is at this hour in as perfect condition as on the day +it was laid down, with the exception of the two short lines laid in +shallow water along the shore between Liverpool and Holyhead, 25 miles, +and from Prince Edward's Island to New Brunswick, 11 miles; the latter +of which was broken by a ship's anchor, and the former by the anchor +of the Royal Charter during the gale in which she was wrecked, both of +which can be easily repaired. + +Where failures have occurred in submarine telegraphs, the causes are now +well understood and easily to be avoided. Thus with the first Atlantic +cable, its defects have all been carefully investigated by scientific +men, and may be easily guarded against. When this cable was in process +of manufacture in the factory of Messrs. Glass, Elliot, & Co., in +Greenwich, near London, it was coiled in four large vats, and there +left exposed, day after day, to the heat of a summer sun, which was +intensified by the tarred coating of the cable to one hundred and twenty +degrees. This went on, day after day, with the knowledge of the engineer +and electrician of the company, although the directors had given +explicit orders that sheds should be erected over the vats to prevent +the possibility of such an occurrence. As might have been foreseen, the +gutta-percha was melted, so that the conductor which it was desired to +insulate was so twisted by the coils that it was left quite bare in +numberless places, thus weakening, and eventually, when the cable +was submerged, destroying the insulation. The injury was partially +discovered before the cable was taken out of the factory at Greenwich, +and a length of about thirty miles was cut out and condemned. This, +however, did not wholly remedy the difficulty, for the defective +insulation became frequently and painfully apparent while the cable was +being submerged. Still further evidence of its imperfect condition was +afforded when it came to be cut up for charms and trinkets. + +The first cable was, to a great extent, an experiment,--a leap in +the dark. Its material and construction were as good as the state of +knowledge at that time provided, and in many respects not unsuitable; +but the company could not avail itself, at that time, of the instruments +or apparatus for testing its conducting power and insulation, in the +manner since pointed out by experience. The effects of temperature, +as we have seen, were not provided for. The vast differences in the +conducting power of copper were discovered only by means of that cable, +when made. The mathematical law whereby the proportions of insulation to +conduction are determined had not been fully investigated; and it was +even argued by some of the pretended electricians in the employ of the +company, that, the smaller the conductor, the more rapidly the current +could pass through it. No mode of protecting the external sheath from +oxidation had then been discovered; and the kind of machinery necessary +for submerging cables in deep water could only be theoretically assumed. + +Looking back to that period, and granting that there was too much haste +in the preparations, and that other mistakes were committed which could +now be foreseen and avoided, it is not too much to say, that, if that +cable could be laid and worked, as was done, after one failure in 1857, +and the consequent uncoiling and storage of it in an exposed situation, +and after three attempts in 1858, under the most fearful circumstances +as to weather, it would be an easy task to lay a cable constructed and +submerged by the light of present experience. + +[Illustration: The Cable laid in 1858.] + +[Illustration: The proposed New Cable.] + +The above cuts, representing sections of the cable laid in 1858 and the +proposed new cable, will serve to show the difference between the two, +and the immense superiority of the latter over the former. In the old +Atlantic cable the copper conducting-wire weighed but ninety-three +pounds to the mile, while in the new cable it weighs five hundred and +ten pounds to the mile, _or more than five times as much_. Now the size, +or diameter, of a telegraphic conductor is just as important an item, in +determining the strength of current which can be maintained upon it with +a given amount of battery-force, as the length of the conductor. To +produce the effects by which the messages are expressed at the end of +a telegraphic wire or cable, it is necessary that the electric current +should have a certain intensity or strength. Now the intensity of the +current transmitted by a given voltaic battery along a given line of +wire will decrease, other things being the same, in the same proportion +as the length of the wire increases. Thus, if the wire be continued for +ten miles, the current will have twice the intensity which it would +have, if the wire had been extended to a distance of twenty miles. It is +evident, therefore, that the wire may be continued to such a length that +the current will no longer have sufficient intensity to produce at the +station to which the despatch is transmitted those effects by which the +language of the despatch is signified. _But the intensity of the current +transmitted by a given voltaic battery upon a wire of given length will +be increased in the same proportion as the area of the section of the +wire is augmented_. Thus, if the diameter of the wire be doubled, the +area of its section being increased in a fourfold proportion, the +intensity of the current transmitted along the wire will be increased in +the same ratio. The intensity of the current may also be augmented by +increasing the number of pairs of the generating plates or cylinders +composing the galvanic battery. + +All electrical terms are arbitrary, and necessarily unintelligible +to the general reader. I shall, therefore, use them as sparingly as +possible, and endeavor to make myself clearly understood by explaining +those which I do use. + +All telegraphic conductors offer a certain resistance to the passage of +an electric current, and the amount of this resistance is proportional +to the length of the conductor, and inversely to its size. In order to +overcome this resistance, it is necessary to increase the number of +the cells in the battery, and thus obtain a fluid of greater force or +intensity. + +On aërial telegraph-lines this increase in the intensity of the battery +occasions no particular inconvenience, other than by tending to the more +rapid destruction of the small copper coils, or helices, employed; +but upon submarine lines it has the effect of increasing the static +electricity, or electricity of tension, which accumulates along the +surface of the gutta-percha covering of the conducting-wire, in the same +manner as static electricity accumulates on the surface of glass, or of +a stick of sealing-wax, by rubbing it with a piece of cloth. The use of +submarine or of subterranean conductors occasions, from the above cause, +a small retardation in the velocity of the transmitted electricity. This +retardation is not due to the length of the path which the electric +current has to traverse, since it does not take place with a conductor, +equally long, insulated in the air; but it arises from a static +reaction, caused by the passage of an intense current through a +conductor well insulated, but surrounded outside its insulating coating +by a conducting body, such as sea-water or moist ground, or even by the +metallic envelope of iron wires placed in communication with the ground. +When this conductor is presented to one of the poles of a battery, the +other pole of which communicates with the ground, it becomes charged +with static electricity, like the coating of a Leyden-jar,--electricity +which is capable of giving rise to a discharge-current, even after the +voltaic current has ceased to be transmitted. Volta showed in one of his +beautiful experiments, that, in putting one of the ends of his pile +in communication with the earth, and the other with a non-insulated +Leyden-jar, the jar was charged in an instant of time to a degree +proportional to the force of the pile. At the same time an instantaneous +current was observed in the conductor between the pile and the jar, +which had all the properties of an ordinary current. Now it is evident +that the subaqueous wire with its insulating covering may be assimilated +exactly to an immense Leyden-jar. The glass of the jar represents the +gutta-percha; the internal coating is the surface of the copper wire; +the external coating is the surrounding metallic envelope and water. To +form an idea of the capacity of this new kind of battery, we have only +to remember that the surface of the wire is equal to fourteen square +yards per mile. Bringing such a wire into communication by one of its +ends with a battery, of which the opposite pole is in contact with the +earth, whilst the other extremity of the wire is insulated, must cause +the wire to take a charge of the same character and tension as that of +the pole of the battery touched by it. + +These currents of static induction are proportional in intensity to +the force of the battery and the length of the wire, whilst an inverse +relation is true as regards the length of the conductor with the +ordinary voltaic current. + +Professor Wheatstone proved, by actual experiment, that a continuous +current may be maintained in the circuit of the long wire of an +electric cable, of which one of the ends is insulated, whilst the other +communicates with one of the poles of a battery, whose other pole is +connected with the ground. This current he considers due to the uniform +and continual dispersion of the statical electricity with which the wire +is charged along its whole length. + +It was mainly owing to the retardation from this cause that +communication through the Atlantic cable was so exceedingly slow and +difficult. + +I will now endeavor to show why the new cable will not be liable to this +difficulty, to anything like the same extent. + +I have alluded to the resistance offered by the conductor of a +telegraph-cable to the passage of an electric current, and to the +retardation of this current by static induction. The terms _retardation_ +and _resistance_ are not considered technically synonymous, but are +intended, as electrical terms, to designate two very different forces. +The resistance of a wire, as we have seen above, is proportional to its +length, and inversely to its diameter. It is overcome by increasing the +number of cells in the battery, or, in other words, by increasing the +intensity or force of the current. The retardation in a telegraphic +cable, on the contrary, is proportional to the length of the +conducting-wire and the intensity of the battery. In the former case, by +increasing the electrical force you overcome the resistance; while +in the latter, by augmenting the electrical force you increase the +retardation. + +From the foregoing law it will be seen that there are two ways of +lessening the resistance upon telegraphic conductors,--one by reducing +the length, and the other by increasing the area of the section of the +conducting-wire. Now, as already remarked, the copper conducting-wire in +the old cable weighed but ninety-three pounds to the mile, while in the +new cable it weighs five hundred and ten pounds to the mile, or more +than five times as much. If, then, by comparison, we estimate the +resistance in the old Atlantic cable to have been equal to two +thousand miles of ordinary telegraph-wire, the increased size of the +conducting-wire of the new cable reduces the resistance to one-fifth +that distance, or four hundred miles. And while it required two hundred +cells of battery to produce intensity sufficient to work over the two +thousand miles of resistance in the old cable, it will require but +one-fifth as much, or forty cells, to overcome the four hundred miles +of resistance in the new cable. The retardation which resulted from +the intense current generated by two hundred cells will be also +proportionately reduced in the comparatively small battery of forty +cells. Thus we perceive, that, while the length of the cable is, +electrically and practically, reduced to one-fifth of its former length, +the retardation of the current is also decreased in the same proportion. +Therefore, if, with the old cable, three words per minute could be +transmitted, with the new cable we shall be able to transmit five times +as many, or fifteen words per minute. This is not equal to our Morse +system on the land-lines, which will signal at the rate of thirty-five +words per minute, still less to the printing system, which can signal at +the rate of fifty words per minute; but, even at this rate, the +cable would be enabled to transmit in twenty-four hours one thousand +despatches containing an average of twenty words apiece. Mr. Field, +however, claims for the cable a speed of only twelve words per minute, +which would reduce the number of despatches of twenty words each +that could be transmitted in twenty-four hours to eight hundred and +sixty-four. We will suppose, however, that the cable transmits only five +hundred telegrams per day; this number, at ten dollars per message, +would give an income of five thousand dollars per diem, or one million +five hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars per annum. Quite a handsome +revenue on an outlay of about one million of dollars! + +The only instrument which could be used successfully in signalling +through the old cable was one of peculiar construction, called the +Marine Galvanometer. In this instrument, momentum and inertia are almost +wholly avoided by the use of a needle weighing only one and a half +grains, combined with a mirror reflecting a ray of light, which +indicates deflections with great accuracy. By this means a gradually +increasing or decreasing current is at each instant indicated at its +due strength. Thus, when this galvanometer is placed as the +receiving-instrument at the end of a long submarine cable, the movement +of the spot of light, consequent on the completion of a circuit through +the battery, cable, and earth, can be so observed as to furnish a curve +representing very accurately the arrival of an electric current. Lines +representing successive signals at various speeds can also be obtained, +and, by means of a metronome, dots and dashes can be sent with nearly +perfect regularity by an ordinary Morse key, and the corresponding +changes in the current at the receiving end of the cable accurately +observed. + +A system of arbitrary characters, similar to those used upon the Morse +telegraph, was employed, and the letter to be indicated was determined +by the number of oscillations of the needle, as well as by the length of +time during which the needle remained in one place. The operator, who +watched the reflection of the deflected needle in the mirror, held a key +in his hand communicating with a local instrument in the office, which +he pressed down or raised, according to the deflection of the needle; +and another operator deciphered the characters thus produced upon the +paper. This mode of telegraphing was, of necessity, very slow, and it +will not surprise the reader that the fastest rate of speed over the +cable did not exceed three words per minute. Still, had the old cable +continued in operation a few months longer, experience and practice +would have enabled the operator to transmit and receive with very much +greater facility. On our land-lines, operators of long experience +acquire a dexterity which enables them not only to transmit and receive +telegrams with wonderful rapidity, but to work the instruments during +storms, when those of less experience would be unable to receive a dot. +There is no occupation in which skill and experience are more necessary +to success than in that of telegraphing, and at the time the Atlantic +cable was laid no experience had been obtained upon similar lines, or +with the instruments employed. Now, however, the company can avail +itself of experienced operators from lines of nearly equal length, and +who will require no time for experimenting, but may commence operations +as soon as the two ends of the cable are landed upon the shores of +Europe and America. + +In the old cable the copper wire was covered but three times with +gutta-percha, while in the new it is covered four times with the purest +gutta-percha and four times with Chatterton's patent compound, by which +the cable is rendered absolutely impenetrable to water. The old cable +was covered with eighteen strands of small iron wire, which, as they had +no other covering, were directly exposed to the action of the water. The +new is covered with thirteen strands, each strand consisting of three +wires of the best quality, and covered with gutta-percha, to render it +indestructible in salt water. By this new construction, it has double +the strength of the old cable, at the same time that it is lighter in +the water, a very important matter in laying it across the ocean. + +The risk of loss in laying the new cable would be very much diminished +by the fact that it would be of such strength, that, even if broken, it +could be recovered, as has been done in the Mediterranean; and besides, +the principal and most expensive materials, copper and gutta-percha, +being indestructible, would have at all times a market value. + +Other routes to Europe have been proposed, and have been at times quite +popular, the most feasible of which are those _viâ_ Behring's Straits, +or the Aleutian Islands, and _viâ_ Labrador, Greenland, Iceland, and the +Faroe Isles. + +To the route _viâ_ Behring's Straits there are several grave objections. +The distance from New York to London by a route crossing the three +continents of America, Asia, and Europe, is about eighteen thousand +miles, or more than nine times as great as that from Newfoundland to +Ireland. Of course, the mere cost of constructing a continuous telegraph +three-quarters of the distance around the globe, and of maintaining +the hundreds of stations that would be necessary over such a length +of land-lines, would be enormous. But even that is not the chief +difficulty. A line which should traverse the whole breadth of Siberia +would encounter wellnigh insuperable obstacles in the country itself, as +it would have to pass over mountains and across deserts; while, as it +turned north to Kamtschatka, it would come into a region of frightful +cold, where winter reigns the greater part of the year. Of this whole +country a large part is not only utterly uncivilized, but uninhabited, +and portions which are occupied are held by savage and warlike tribes. + +Of the Greenland route, Doctor Hayes, the well-known Arctic traveller, +expresses himself in the most decided manner, that it is wholly +impracticable. He says it must be obvious that the ice which hugs +the Greenland coast will prevent a cable, if laid, from remaining in +continuity for any length of time. Doctor Wallich, naturalist attached +to Sir Leopold McClintock's expedition to survey the Northern route, +considers it impracticable on account of the volcanic nature of the +bottom of the sea near Iceland, and the ridges of rock and the immense +icebergs near Greenland. + +The main argument in favor of this route, in preference to the more +direct one across the Atlantic, is, that it would be impossible to work +in one continuous circuit a line so long as that from Newfoundland to +Ireland. This would seem to be answered sufficiently by the success of +the old Atlantic cable. But it is alleged that it worked slowly and with +difficulty, which is true, and hence it is thought that the distance +would be at least a very great obstacle. But we have shown, that, +practically, by the increased size of the conducting-wire, the new cable +has been reduced in length four-fifths, and will work five times as fast +as the old one. The cable extending from Malta to Alexandria is fifteen +hundred and thirty-five miles long, and the whole of this line can be +worked through without relay or repetition in a satisfactory manner, as +regards both its scientific and commercial results, and with remarkably +low battery-power. The Gutta-Percha Company, which made the core of this +cable, says that a suitably made and insulated telegraph-conductor, laid +intact between Ireland and Newfoundland, can be worked efficiently, both +in a commercial and scientific sense, and they are prepared to guaranty +the efficient and satisfactory working of a line of the length of +the Atlantic cable as manufactured by themselves, and submerged and +maintained in that state. + +It can be shown by the testimony and experience of those most eminent in +the science and practice of oceanic telegraphy, that neither length of +distance, within the limits with which the Atlantic Company has to +deal, nor depth of water, is any insuperable impediment to efficient +communication by such improved conductors of electricity as are now +proposed to be laid down. All those who are best able to form a sound +opinion, from long-continued experimental researches on this particular +point, are willing to pledge their judgment, that, on such a length of +line as that between Ireland and Newfoundland, and with such a cable and +such improved instruments as are now at command, not less than twelve +words per minute could be transmitted from shore to shore, and that this +may be done with greatly diminished battery-power as compared with that +formerly used. + +I think I have shown by facts, and not theory merely, that the Atlantic +cable can and will be successfully laid down and worked, thus supplying +the long-needed link between the three hundred thousand miles of +electric telegraph already in operation on the opposite shores of the +Atlantic. + +There are many of our people who are inclined to look coldly upon this +enterprise, from a conviction that it would give Great Britain an undue +advantage over us in case war should occur between the two countries, +and I confess to having entertained the same views; but the case is so +well put by Mr. Field, in his address before the American Geographical +Society, as, in my judgment, to relieve every apprehension upon this +point. + +The relative geographical position of the two countries cannot be +changed. It so happens, that the two points on the opposite sides of +the Atlantic nearest to each other, and which are therefore the natural +termini of an ocean telegraph, are both in British territory. Of +course, the Government which holds both ends can control the use of the +telegraph, or stop it altogether. It has the power, and the only check +upon the abuse of that power must be by a treaty, made beforehand. Shall +we refuse to aid in constructing the line, for fear that England, in +the exasperation of a war, would disregard any treaty stipulations in +reference to its use? Then we throw away our only security. For, suppose +a war to break out to-morrow, the first step of England would be to lay +a cable herself, for her own sole and exclusive benefit. Then she +would not only have the control, but would be unrestrained by any +treaty-obligations binding her to respect the neutrality of the +telegraph. We should then find this great medium of communication +between the two hemispheres, which we might have made, if not an ally, +at least a neutral, turned into a powerful antagonist. + +Would it not, therefore, be better that such a line of telegraph should +be constructed by the joint efforts of both countries, and be guarded +by treaty-stipulations, so that it might be placed, as far as possible, +under the protection of the faith of nations, and of the honor of the +civilized world? + +Mr. Field says, that, in the negotiations on this subject, Great Britain +has never shown the slightest wish to take advantage of its geographical +position to exact special privileges, or a desire to appropriate any +advantages which it was not willing to concede equally to the United +States. + +Should not the Atlantic telegraph, if laid down under the conditions +proposed by the Company, instead of being a cause of apprehension, in +case of war, be rather looked upon with favor, as tending to lessen +the risk of war between the United States and all European countries, +affording, as it would, facilities for the prompt interchange of notes +between the Government of the United States and those of the various +nations on the other side of the Atlantic, whenever any misunderstanding +should unhappily arise? + +Let us, then, throw aside all feeling of apprehension from this cause, +and be prepared to hail, with the same enthusiasm we experienced in 1858 +at the laying of the old, the completion of the new Atlantic cable. + + * * * * * + + +THE CABALISTIC WORDS. + + +[Since the following poem was written, we have had from the President +the pledge that the "cabalistic words" shall be uttered by him on the +first of January, 1863, unless the rebellion is abandoned before that +time. Thanks and honor to the President for the promise! But we shall +not look for the magical operation of the words till they are uttered +without reservation or qualification.] + + Hear, O Commander of the Faithful, hear + A legend trite to many a childish ear; + But scorn it not, nor let its teaching fail, + Although familiar as a nursery tale. + + Cassim the Covetous, whose god was gold, + Once, by strange chance, found riches manifold + Hid in a rocky cavern, where a band + Of robbers who were ravaging the land + Kept their bright spoils. Cassim had learnt the spell + By which the dazzling heaps were guarded well. + Two cabalistic words he speaks, and, lo! + The door flies open: what a golden glow! + He enters,--speaks the words of power once more, + And swift upon him clangs the ponderous door. + Croesus! what joy to eyes that know their worth! + Huge bags of gold and diamonds on the earth! + Here piles of ingots, there a glistening heap + Of coins that all their minted lustre keep. + Cassim is ravished at the wondrous sight, + And rubs his hands with ever new delight; + Absorbed in gazing, lets the hours go by, + Nor can enough indulge his gloating eye. + He chooses what he can to bear away, + And then reluctant seeks the outer day. + + The words,--what _are_ they,--those that ope the door? + He falters,--loses all so plain before;-- + Tries this word,--that,--in vain!--he cannot speak + The magic sentence;--he grows faint and weak,-- + Spurns the base gold, cause of his wild despair;-- + What if the thieves should come and find him there?-- + Hark! they are coming!--yes, they come!--they shout + The precious words;--ah, now they end his doubt!-- + Too late he hears; in vain he tries to fly; + Trembling he sinks upon his knees--to die! + + Commander of the Faithful! dark the strait + Thy people stand in, in this hour of fate; + Thick walls of gloom and doubt have shut them in; + They grope beneath the ban of one great sin. + Yet there are two short words whose potent spell + Shall burst with thunder-crash these gates of hell, + Open a vista to celestial light, + Lead us to peace through the eternal Right. + Oh, speak those words, those saving words of power, + In this most pregnant, this supremest hour,-- + Words writ in martyr blood, as all may see!-- + Commander of the Faithful, say, BE FREE! + + * * * * * + + +CONVERSATIONAL OPINIONS OF THE LEADERS OF SECESSION. + +A MONOGRAPH. + + +The causes of the present Rebellion, the personal history of its +leaders, and the incidents immediately preceding the breaking out of the +conspiracy, will ever remain objects of chief interest to the historian +of the present period of the Republic. Influenced by a desire to obtain +unimpeachable information upon these topics from unprejudiced sources, +the writer of the following article, then a student at Yale College, +availed himself of the vacation in December, 1860, and January, 1861, to +visit the National capital, and while there to improve the reasonably +ready access with which most public men are approached, whenever the +object is either to give or to receive information, for the purpose of +studying a period then promising to exceed in importance anything in the +past history of the nation. It has been suggested to the writer, that +certain interviews, such as younger men, when collegians, were then +allowed with the frank Southern leaders, and which he has occasionally +sketched in conversation, have had the seal of privacy removed by the +tide of events, and should now be described for the public, as aiding to +unmask, from unquestionable authority, the real causes and origin of +the Rebellion, and contributing something, perhaps, to sustain public +sentiment in the defence of the nation against a conspiracy which the +statements of these Southern apologists themselves prove to have been +conceived in the most reckless disregard of honor and law, and which, if +successful, will give birth to a neighboring nation actuated by the same +spirit. + +The more important interviews alluded to were with the Honorable Robert +Toombs, the Honorable R.M.T. Hunter, and the Honorable Jefferson Davis, +at that time prominent members, as is well known, of the United +States Senate, from the States respectively of Georgia, Virginia, and +Mississippi. The communications of the Senators are proved to have been +sincere by their subsequent speeches and by public events. The writer +is by no means insensible to the breach of privilege, of which, under +ordinary circumstances, notwithstanding the unfolding of events, he +would be guilty, in detailing in print private conversations; but he +believes that the public will sustain the propriety of the present +revelations, now that the persons chiefly concerned have become enemies +of the nation and of mankind. + +Not, as he may possibly be accused, with the purpose of adding a +syllable of unnecessary length to the narrative, but for the sake of +vividness in presenting the idea of the _personnel_ of the Southern +leaders, soon to be known only as historical characters, and of +scrupulous accuracy in representing their sentiments, to which, in this +case, a notice of time, place, and manner seems as necessary as that of +matter, the writer has taken not a little pains, through all the usual +means, to remember, and will endeavor to state, the conversations, +always with logical, and nearly always, he believes, with verbal +accuracy, in order that the conclusions to be drawn from them by the +reader may have the better support. + +It is well known that public men in Washington, out of business hours, +are visited without formal introduction or letters, especially upon +their reception-days, and that the privilege of a single interview +implies no distinction to the visitor. The urbanity and frankness with +which proper approaches are met, especially by the Southern leaders, are +also well known. Young men, with unprejudiced minds, upon whom public +characters are always anxious to impress the stamp of their own +principles, are perhaps received with quite as much frankness as others. + + * * * * * + +The first interview sought was with Mr. Toombs, the most daring and +ingenuous, and perhaps the most gifted in eloquence of the Southern +leaders, whose house, at that time, was a lofty building upon F Street, +only two doors from the residence of Mr. Seward. A negro servant, who, +with all the blackness of a native African, yet with thin lips and +almost the regular features of a Caucasian, appeared to the writer to be +possibly the descendant of one of the superior, princely African tribes, +showed the way to an unoccupied parlor. The room was luxuriously +furnished with evidences of wealth and taste: a magnificent pianoforte, +several well-chosen paintings, and a marble bust of some public +character standing upon a high pedestal of the same material in the +corner, attracting particular attention, and a pleasant fire in the open +grate making the December evening social. A step presently heard in the +hall, elastic, buoyant, and vigorous, was altogether too characteristic +of Mr. Toombs's portly, muscular, confident, and somewhat dashing +figure, to be mistaken for any other than his own. Mr. Toombs appeared +to be now about forty-five years of age, but carried in his whole mien +the elastic vigor, and irresistible self-reliance, frankness, decision, +and sociality of character, which mark his oratory and his public +career. His good-evening, and inquiry concerning the college named on +the card of the writer, were in a tone that at once placed his visitor +at ease. + +"Your first visit to Washington, Mr. ----?" + +"Yes, Sir. Like others, I have been attracted by the political crisis, +and the purpose of studying it from unprejudiced sources." + +"Crisis? Oh, _that's past_." + +The writer will not soon forget the tone of perfect confidence and +_nonchalance_ with which this was uttered. The time was the last week of +December, 1860. + +"You are confident, then, Sir, that fifteen States will secede?" + +"Secede? Certainly,--they _must_ secede. You Northerners,--you are from +a Northern college, I believe,"--referring to the writer's card,--"you +Northerners wish to make a new Constitution, or rather to give such an +interpretation to the old one as to make it virtually a new document. +How can society be kept together, if men will not keep their compacts? +Our fathers provided, in adopting their Constitution, for the protection +of their property. But here are four billions of the property of the +South which you propose to outlaw from the common Territories. You say +to us, by your elected President, by your House of Representatives, by +your Senate, by your Supreme Court, in short, by every means through +which one party can speak to another, that these four billions of +property, representing the toil of the head and hand of the South for +the last two hundred years, shall not be respected in the Territories as +your property is respected there. And this property, too, is property +which you tax and which you allow to be represented; but yet you will +not protect it. How can we remain? We should be happy to remain, if you +would treat us as equals; but you tax us, and will not protect us. +We will resist. D--n it,"--this and other striking expressions are +precisely Mr. Toombs's language,--"we will meet you on the border with +the bayonet. Society cannot be kept together, unless men will keep their +compacts." + +This was said without the intonation of fierceness or malignity, but +with great decision and the vigor of high spirit. + +It was taking, of course, with considerable emphasis, a side in a +famous Constitutional question, familiar to all readers of American +Congressional Debates, once supported by Mr. Calhoun, and rather +strangely, too, with that philosophical leader, confusing the absurdly +asserted State right of seceding at will with the undoubted right, +when there exists no peaceful remedy, of seceding from intolerable +oppression: an entire position which Mr. Webster especially, and +subsequent statesmen, in arguments elucidating the nature and powers of +the General Government, to say nothing of the respect due to a moral +sentiment concerning slavery, which, permeating more than a majority +of the people, has the force, when properly expressed, wherever the +Constitution has jurisdiction, of supreme law, are thought by most men, +once and forever, to have satisfactorily answered. It was a complaint, +certainly, which the South had had ever since the Constitution was +formed, and which could with no plausibility be brought forward as a +justification of war, while there existed a Constitutional tribunal for +adjusting difficulties of Constitutional interpretation. Yet, as it +was almost universally asserted, of course, by the Northern partisan +presses, and by Northern Congressmen, that the Rebellion was utterly +causeless, and as the writer was therefore exceedingly anxious to +obtain, concerning their grievances, the latest opinions of the Southern +leaders, as stated by themselves, he ventured to propose, in a pause of +Mr. Toombs's somewhat rapid rhetoric, a question which, at that moment, +seemed of central importance to the candid philosophical inquirer into +the moving forces of the times:-- + +"Are we, then, Sir, to consider Mr. Calhoun's old complaint--the +non-recognition of slave-property under the Federal Constitution--as +constituting now the _chief grievance_ of the South?" + +"Undoubtedly," was Mr. Toombs's instant reply, "_it all turns on that. +What you tax you must protect_." + +This is the very strongest argument of the Southern side. But the +alleged slave-property is protected, though only under municipal law, by +the Constitution. To protect it elsewhere is against its whole spirit, +and, in the present state of public sentiment, against its very letter. +Originally, as is well known, it was not proposed to protect at all, +_under the General Government_, property so monstrous, except as it +became necessary as a compromise, in order to secure a union. But the +provision of the Constitution that the slave-trade should be abolished, +the absolute power given to Congress to make all laws for the +Territories, the spirit of the preamble, the principles of the +Declaration, indeed, the whole history of the origin and adoption of the +fundamental law, prove that its principle and its expectation were, if +not absolutely to place slavery in the States in process of extinction, +at least never to recognize it except indirectly and remotely +under municipal law, not even by admitting the word _slave_ to its +phraseology. + +"Even in the Northern States themselves, to say nothing of the +Territories, I am not safe with my property. I can travel through +France or England and be safe; but if I happen to lose my servant up in +_Vairmount_,"--Mr. Toombs pronounced the word with a somewhat marked +accent of derision,--"and undertake to recover him, I get jugged. +Besides, your Northern statesmen are far from being honest. Here is +Billy Seward, for instance,"--with a gesture toward his neighbor's +house,--"who says slavery is contrary to the Higher Law, and that he is +bound as a Christian to obey the Higher Law; but yet he takes an oath to +uphold the Constitution, which protects slavery. This inconsistency runs +through most of the Northern platforms. How can we live with such +men? They will not be true even to a compact which they themselves +acknowledge." + +"You would think, then, Wendell Phillips, for instance, more consistent +in his political opinions than Mr. Seward?" + +"Certainly. I can understand his position. 'Slavery,' he says, 'is +wrong. The Constitution protects slavery; therefore I will have nothing +to do with the Constitution, and cannot become a citizen.' This is +logical and consistent. I can respect such a position as that." + +Here Mr. Toombs--ejecting, as perhaps the writer ought not to relate, a +competent mass of tobacco-saliva into the blazing coal--paused somewhat +reflectively, perhaps unpleasantly revolving certain possible indirect +influences of the position he had characterized. + +"Upon which side, Sir, do you think there is usually the most +misunderstanding,--on the part of the North concerning the South? or on +the part of the South concerning the North?" + +"Oh, by all odds," he replied, instantly, "we understand you best. We +send fifty thousand travellers, more or less, North every summer to +your watering-places. Hot down in Mobile,"--his style taking somewhat +unpleasantly the intonation as well as the negligence of the +bar-room,--"can't live in Mobile in the summer. Then your papers +circulate more among us than ours among you. Our daughters are educated +at Northern boarding-schools, our sons at Northern colleges: both my +colleague and myself were educated at Northern colleges. For these +reasons, by all odds, we have a better opportunity for understanding you +than you have for understanding us." + +"In case of general secession and war," the writer ventured next to +inquire, "would there probably, in your opinion, be danger of a slave +insurrection?" + +"None at all. Certainly far less than of 'Bread or Blood' riots at the +North." + +The writer was surprised to find, notwithstanding Mr. Toombs's eulogy of +Southern opportunities, his understanding of the North so imperfect, and +still more surprised at the political and social principles involved in +the spirit of what followed. + +"Your poor population can hold ward-meetings, and can vote. But _we_ +know better how to take care of ours. They are in the fields, and +under the eye of their overseers. There can be little danger of an +insurrection under our system." + +The subject and the manner of the man, in spite of his better qualities, +were becoming painful, and the writer ventured only one more remark. + +"An ugly time, certainly, if war comes between North and South." + +"Ugly time? _Oh, no!_" + +The writer will never forget the tone of utter carelessness and +_nonchalance_ with which the last round-toned exclamation was uttered. + +"Oh, no! War is nothing. Never more than a tenth part of the adult +population of a country in the field. We have four million voters. Say +a tenth of them, or four hundred thousand men, are in the field on both +sides. A tenth of them would be killed or die of camp diseases. But +_they_ would die, _any way_. War is nothing." + +The tone perfectly proved this belief, not badinage. + +"Some property would be destroyed, towns injured, fences overturned, and +the Devil raised generally; but then all that would have a good effect. +Only yaller-covered-literature men and editors make a noise about war. +Wars are to history what storms are to the atmosphere,--purifiers. We +shall meet, as we ought, whoever invades our rights, with the bayonet. +We are the gentlemen of this land, and gentlemen always make revolutions +in history." + +This was said in the tone of an injured, but haughty man, with perfect +intellectual poise and earnestness, yet with a fervor of feeling that +brought the speaker erect in his chair. + +The significance of the last remarks, which the writer can make oath he +has preserved _verbatim_, being somewhat calculated to draw on a debate, +of course wholly unfitted to the time and place, the writer, apologizing +for having taken so much time at a formal interview, and receiving, of +course, a most courteous invitation to renew the call, found himself, +after but twenty minutes' conversation, on the street, in the lonely +December evening, with a mind full of reflections. + +The utter recklessness concerning life and property with which the +splendid intellect, under the lead of the ungovernable passions of this +man, was plunging the nation into a civil war of which no one could +foresee the end, was the thought uppermost. Certainly, the abstract +manliness of asserting rights supposed to be infringed it was in itself +impossible not to respect. But the man seemed to love war for its own +sake, as pugnacious schoolboys love sham-fights, with a sort of glee in +the smell of the smoke of battle. The judicial calmness of statesmanship +had entirely disappeared in the violence of sectional passion. Perhaps +he might be capable of ruining his country from pure love of turbulence +and power, could he but find a pretext of force sufficient to blind +first himself and then others. Yet Robert Toombs, in the Senate Chamber, +takes little children in his arms, and is one of the kindest of the +noblemen of Nature in the sphere of his unpolitical sympathies. The +reader who is familiar with Mr. Toombs's speeches will need no assurance +that he spoke frankly.[A] + +[Footnote A: Ten days later, in the Senate, with a face full of the +combined erubescence of revolutionary enthusiasm and unstatesmanlike +anger, Mr. Toombs closed a speech to the Northern Senators in the +following amazing words, (_Congressional Globe_, 1860-61, p. 271,) +which justify, it will be seen, every syllable of the report of the +conversation upon the same points:-- + +"You will not regard confederate obligations; you will not regard +constitutional obligations; you will not regard your oaths. What am I to +do? Am I a freeman? Is my State, a free State, to lie down and submit +because political fossils raise the cry of 'The Glorious Union'? Too +long already have we listened to this delusive song. We are freemen. We +have rights: I have stated them. We have wrongs: I have recounted them. +I have demonstrated that the party now coming into power has declared +us outlaws, and is determined to exclude four thousand millions of our +property from the common territories,--that it has declared us under the +ban of the empire and out of the protection of the laws of the United +States, everywhere. They have refused to protect us from invasion and +insurrection by the Federal power, and the Constitution denies to us +in the Union the right either to raise fleets or armies for our own +defence. All these charges I have proven by the record, and I put +them before the civilized world, and demand the judgment of to-day, of +to-morrow, of distant ages, and of Heaven itself, upon these causes. I +am content, whatever it be, to peril all in so noble, so holy a cause. +We have appealed time and time again for these constitutional rights. +You have refused them. We appeal again. Restore us these rights as we +had them, as your court adjudges them to be, just as all our people have +said they are, redress these flagrant wrongs, seen of all men, and it +will restore fraternity and peace and unity to all of us. Refuse them, +and what then? We shall then ask you to 'let us depart in peace.' Refuse +that, and you present us war. We accept it; and inscribing upon our +banners the glorious words, 'Liberty and Equality,' we will trust to +the blood of the brave and the God of battles for security and +tranquillity." + +Sincere, but undoubtedly mistaken, Mr. Toombs! To this philippic, let +the words of another Southern, but not sectional Senator, reply, and +that from a golden age:-- + +"But if, unhappily, we should be involved in war, in civil war, between +the two parts of this Confederacy, in which the effort upon the one +side should be to restrain the introduction of slavery into the new +territories, and upon the other side to force its introduction there, +what a spectacle should we present to the astonishment of mankind, in an +effort, not to propagate right, but--I must say it, though I trust it +will be understood to be said with no design to excite feeling--a war to +propagate wrong in the territories thus acquired from Mexico. It would +be a war in which we should have no sympathies, no good wishes, in which +all mankind would be against us; for, from the commencement of the +Revolution down to the present time, we have constantly reproached +our British ancestors for the introduction of slavery into this +country."--HENRY CLAY, _Congressional Globe_, Part II., Vol. 22, p. +117.] + +Sick at heart, as the future of the nation stood to his dim vision +through the present, the writer found his way to his hotel. At this +time the North was silent, apparently apathetic, unbelieving, almost +criminally allowed to be undeceived by its presses and by public men who +had means of information, while this volcano continued to prepare itself +thus defiantly beneath the very feet of a President sworn to support the +laws! + + * * * * * + +The formal interview with the Honorable R.M.T. Hunter was sought in +company with two other students of New-England colleges. We had hoped to +meet Mr. Mason at the same apartments, but were disappointed. The great +contrast of personal character between Mr. Hunter and Mr. Toombs made +the concurrence of the former in the chief views presented by the +latter the more significant. The careful habits of thought, the +unostentatiousness, and the practical common sense for which the +Virginian farmer is esteemed, and which had made his name a prominent +one for President of a Central Confederacy, in case of the separate +secession of the Border States, were curiously manifested both in +his apartments and his manner. The chamber was apparently at a +boarding-house, but very plainly furnished with red cotton serge +curtains and common hair-cloth chairs and sofa. The Senator's manner of +speech was slow, considerate,--indeed, sometimes approaching awkwardness +in its plain, farmer-like simplicity. One of the first questions was the +central one, concerning the chief grievance of the South, which had been +presented to Mr. Toombs. + +"Yes," was Mr. Hunter's reply, somewhat less promptly given, "it may be +said to come chiefly from that,--the non-recognition of our property +under the Constitution. We wish our property recognized, as we think the +Constitution provides. We should like to remain with the North." + +He spoke without a particle of expressed passion or ardor, though by +no means incapable, when aroused, as those who have seen his plethoric +countenance and figure can testify, of both. + +"We are mutually helpful to each other. _We want to use your navy and +your factories. You want our cotton. The North to manufacture, and the +South to produce, would make the strongest nation_. But, if we separate, +we shall try to do more in Virginia than we do now. We shall make mills +on our streams." + +His language was chiefly Saxon monosyllables. + +"The climate is not as severe, the nights are not as long with us as +with you. I think we can do well at manufacturing in Virginia. The +Chesapeake Bay and our rivers should aid commerce. As for the slaves, +I think there is little danger of any trouble. There may be some," he +said, with a frankness that surprised us slightly, but in the same +moderate, honest way, his hands clasped upon his breast, and the +extended feet rubbing together slowly, "in the Cotton States, where they +are very thick together; but I think that there is very little danger in +Virginia. The way they take to rise in never shows much skill. The last +time they rose in our State, I think the attempt was brought on by some +sign in an eclipse of the moon." + +Nearly all that passed of political interest is contained in the +foregoing sentences, except one honest reply to a question concerning +his opinion of the probability of the North's attempting coercion. + +"If only three States go out, they may coerce," said Mr. Hunter; "but if +fifteen go, I guess they won't try." + +At the present period of the Rebellion, this indication of the +anticipations of its leaders in engaging in it must be of interest. + +It must be understood that the writer and his companions presented +themselves simply as students, with no fixed exclusive predilections for +either of the public parties in politics,--which, in the writer's case +at least, was certainly a statement wholly true,--and that this evident +freedom from political bias secured perhaps an unusual share of the +confidence of the Southern Senators. It will be remembered, also, that +in every conversation, however startling the revelation of criminal +purpose or absurd motive, the manner of these Senators was always +totally devoid of any approach to that vulgar intellectual levity which +too often, in treating of public affairs, painfully characterizes +the fifth-rate men whom the North sometimes chooses to make its +representatives. The manner of the Southern leaders was to us a +sufficient proof of their sincerity. + + * * * * * + +At the house of the Honorable Jefferson Davis, now in the world's +gaze President of the then nascent Confederacy, the writer, in the +intelligent and genial company of the graduate of Harvard and the +student of Amherst before mentioned, called formally, on the evening +of the New Year's reception-day. A representative from one of the +Southwestern States was present, but we were soon admitted to the front +of the open blazing grate of the reception-parlor. We had before seen +Mr. Davis busy in the Senate. + +The urbanity, the intellectual energy, and the intensely shrewd +watchfulness and ambition, combined with a covertly expressed, but +powerful native instinct for strategy and command, which have made Mr. +Davis a public leader, were evident at the first glance. The Senator +seemed compact of ambition, will, intellect, activity, and shrewdness. +A high and broad, but square forehead; the aquiline nose; the square, +fighting chin; the thin, compressed, but flexible lips; the almost +haggardly sunken cheek; the piercing, not wholly uncovered eye; the +dark, somewhat thinning hair; the clear, slightly browned, nervous +complexion, all well given in the best current photographs, were united +to a figure slightly bent in the shoulders, of more respiratory than +digestive breadth, in outlines almost equally balancing ruggedness and +grace, of compactness wrought by the pressure of perhaps few more than +fifty summers, not above medium height, but composed throughout of silk +and steel. A certain similarity between the decorations of the parlor +and the character of the owner, perhaps more fanciful than real, at once +attracted attention. Everything was simple, graceful, and rich, without +being tropically luxuriant; the paintings appeared to be often of airy, +winged, or white-robed figures, that suggested a reflective and not +unimaginative mind in the one who had chosen them. This was the leader +whom Mr. Calhoun's fervent political metaphysics and his own ambition +for place and power had misled. His conversation was remarkable in +manner for perfect unostentatiousness, clearness, and self-control, and +in matter for breadth and minuteness of political information. In the +whole conversation, he never uttered a broken or awkwardly constructed +sentence, nor wavered, while stating facts, by a single intonation. This +considerable intellectual energy, combined with courtesy, was his +chief fascination. Yet, underneath all lay an atmosphere of covert +haughtiness, and, at times, even of audacious remorselessness, which, +under stimulative circumstances, were to be feared. Undoubtedly, passion +and ambition were natively stronger in the countenance than reason, +conscience, and general sympathy,--an observation best felt to be true +when the face was compared in imagination with the faces of some of the +world's chief benefactors; but culture, native urbanity, and a powerful +reflective tendency had evidently so wrought, that, though conscience +might be imperilled frequently by great adroitness in the casuistry of +self-excuse, justice could not be consciously opposed for any length of +time without powerful silent reaction. The quantity of being, however, +though superior, was not of so high a measure as the quality, and the +principal deficiencies, though perhaps almost the sole ones, were +plainly moral. In his presence, no man could deny to him something of +that dignity, of a kind superior to that of intellect and will, which +must be possessed by every leader as a basis of confidence. But mournful +severe truth would testify that there was yet, at times, palpably +something of the treacherous serpent in the eye, and it could not +readily be told where it would strike. + +In reply to a reference to a somewhat celebrated speech by Senator +Benjamin of Louisiana, which we had heard the day previous, he said that +we might consider it, as a whole, a very fair statement both of the +arguments and the purposes of the South. Perhaps a speech of more +horrible doctrine, upheld by equal argumentative and rhetorical power, +has never been heard in the American Senate. In reply, also, to the one +central question concerning the chief grievance of the South, he gave in +substance the same answer, uttered perhaps with more logical calmness, +that had been given by Mr. Hunter and Mr. Toombs, that it was +substantially covered by Mr. Calhoun's old complaint, the +non-recognition of slave-property under the Federal Constitution. Of +course we were as yet too well established in the belief that slavery in +the United States is upheld by the Constitution only very remotely and +indirectly, under local or municipal law, to desire, even by questions, +to draw on any debate. + +In reply to a question by the gentleman from Harvard, he spoke of a +Central Confederacy as altogether improbable, and thought, if Georgia +seceded, as the telegrams for the last fortnight had indicated she +would, Maryland would be sure to go. "I think the commercial and +political interests of Maryland," he remarked, in his calm and simple, +but distinct and watchful manner, manifesting, too, at the same time, +a natural command of dignified, antithetical sentences, "would be +promoted, perhaps can be only preserved, by secession. Her territory +extends on both sides of a great inland water communication, and is at +the natural Atlantic outlet, by railway, of the Valley of the West. +Baltimore in the Union is sure to be inferior to Philadelphia and New +York: Baltimore out of the Union is sure to become a great commercial +city. In every way, whether we regard her own people or their usefulness +to other States, I think the interests of Maryland would be promoted by +secession." + +"But would not Maryland lose many more slaves, as the border member of a +foreign confederacy, than she does now in the Union?" + +The reply to this question we looked for with the greatest interest, +since no foreign nation, such as the North would be, in case of +the success of the attempted Confederacy, ever thinks of giving up +fugitives, and since the policy of the South upon this point, in case +she should succeed, would determine the possibility or impossibility of +peace between the two portions of the Continent. + +Mr. Davis's reply was in the following words, uttered in a tone of equal +shrewdness, calmness, and decision:-- + +"I think, for all Maryland would lose in that way she would be more than +repaid by reprisals. While we are one nation and you steal our property, +we have little redress; _but when we become two nations, we shall say, +Two can play at this game_." + +We breathed more freely after so frank an utterance. The great +importance of this reply, coming from the even then proposed political +chief of the Confederacy, as indicating the impossibility of peace, even +in case of the recognition of the South, so long as it should continue, +as it has begun, to make Slavery the chief corner-stone of the State, +will be at once perceived. + +"But," the writer ventured to inquire, "what will become of the Federal +District, since its inhabitants have no 'State right of secession'?" + +"Have you ever studied law?" he asked. + +The gentleman from Amherst confessed our ignorance of any point covering +the case. + +"There is a rule in law," continued Mr. Davis, "that, when property is +granted by one party to another for use for any specified purpose, and +ceases to be used for that purpose, it reverts by law to the donor. +Now the territory constituting at present the District of Columbia was +granted, as you well know, by Maryland to the United States for use as +the seat of the Federal capital. When it ceases to be used for that +purpose, it, with all its public fixtures, will revert by law to +Maryland. But," and his eye brightened to the hue of cold steel in a +way the writer will never forget, as he uttered, in a tone perfectly +self-poised, undaunted, and slightly defiant, the words, "_that is a +point which may be settled by force rather than by reason_." + +This was January 1, 1861, only eleven days after South Carolina had +passed her Act of Secession, and shows that even then, notwithstanding +the professed desire of the South to depart in peace, the attack not +only upon the national principles of union, but upon the national +property as well, was projected. Mr. Davis, loaded with the benefits of +his country, yet occupied a seat in the Senate Chamber, under the most +solemn oath to uphold its Constitution, which, even if his grievances +had been well founded, afforded Constitutional and peaceful remedies +that he had never attempted to use. Presenting regards, very formal +indeed, sick at heart, indignant, and anxious, we left the house of the +traitor. + +The historical conclusions to be drawn from the above slight sketches +are important in several respects. Mr. Davis, Mr. Toombs, and Mr. Hunter +are among the strongest leaders of the Rebellion. Representing the +Northern, Southeastern, and Southwestern populations of the disaffected +regions, their testimony had a wide application, and was perhaps as +characteristic and pointed in these brief conversations, occurring just +upon the eve of the bursting of the storm, as we should have heard in a +hundred interviews. That they spoke frankly was not only evidenced to +us by their entire manner, but, as it is not unimportant to repeat, +has been proved by subsequent events. The conversations, therefore, +indicate,-- + +1. That the grand, fundamental, legal ground for the Rebellion was a +view of Constitutional rights by which property in human beings claimed +equal protection under the General Government with the products of Free +Labor, and to be admitted, therefore, at will, to all places under the +jurisdiction of the Federal power, and not simply to be protected under +local or municipal law,--rights which the South proposed to vindicate, +constitutionally, by Secession, or, in other words, by the domination of +State over National sovereignty: an entire view of the true intent of +the Federal compacts and powers, which, in the great debates between Mr. +Webster and Mr. Calhoun, to say nothing of elucidations by previous and +subsequent jurists and statesmen, has been again and again abundantly +demonstrated to be absurd. + +2. That the immediate, comprehensive pretext for the Rebellion was the +success of a legal majority having in its platform of principles the +doctrine of the non-extension of involuntary human bondage in the +territories over which the Constitution had given to the whole people +absolute control, a doctrine which the mass of the Southern populations +were educated to believe not only deadly to their local privileges, but +distinctly unconstitutional. + +3. That the leaders of the Rebellion frankly admitted, that, excepting +this one point of Constitutional grievance, the interests of the +populations which they represented would be better subserved in the +Union than out of it. + +4. That the leaders of the Rebellion appear not to have anticipated +coercion; but yet, from the earliest days of Secession, contemplated +the spoliation of the Southern National property, and particularly the +seizure of the Federal capital. + +5. That, even should the independence of the South be acknowledged, +peace could not result so long as Slavery should continue: their avowed +system of reprisals for the certain escape of slaves precluding all +force in any but piratical international law. + +6. That the spirit of the Rebellion is the haughty, grasping, and, +except within its own circle, the remorseless spirit universally +characteristic of oligarchies, before the success of whose principles +upon this continent the liberties of the whites could be no safer than +those of the blacks. + +"We are the gentlemen of this land," said the Georgian senator, "and +gentlemen always make revolutions in history." And just previously he +had said, with haughty significance, "_Your_ poor population can hold +ward-meetings, and can vote. But _we_ know better how to take care of +ours. They are in the fields, and under the eye of their overseers." + +In these two brief remarks, taken singly, or, especially, in +juxtaposition, from so representative a source, and so characteristic +of oligarchical opinions everywhere, appears condensed the suggestive +political warning of these times, indeed of all times, and which a +people regardful of civil and religious liberty can never be slow to +heed. + +Let the pride of race and the aristocratic tendencies which underlie the +resistance of the South prevail, and we shall see a new America. The +land of the fathers and of the present will become strange to us. In +place of a thriving population, each member socially independent, +self-respecting, contented, and industrious, contributing, therefore, +to the general welfare, and preserving to posterity and to mankind a +national future of inconceivable power and grandeur, we shall see a +class of unemployed rich and unemployed poor, the former a handful, the +latter a host, in perpetual feud. The asylum of nations, ungratefully +rejecting the principles of equality, to which it has owed a career +of prosperity unexampled in history, will find in arrested commerce, +depressed credit, checked manufactures, an effeminate and selfish, +however brilliant, governing class, and an impoverished and imbruted +industrial population, the consequences of turning back upon its path of +advance. The condition of the most unfortunate aristocracies of the Old +World will become ours. + +But the venerated principles partially promulgated in our golden age +forbid such unhappy auspices. Undoubtedly gentlemen make revolutions in +history; but since all may be Christians, may not all men be gentlemen? +At least, have not all men, everywhere, the sacred and comprehensive +right of equal freedom of endeavor to occupy their highest capacities? +_Does not the Creator, who makes nothing in vain, wherever He implants a +power, imply a command to exercise that power according to the highest +aspiration, and is not responsibility eternally exacted, wherever +power and command coexist?_ By that fearful sanction, may not all men, +everywhere, become the best they can become? What that may be, is not +free, equal, and perpetual experiment, judged by conscience in the +individual and by philanthropy in his brother, and not by arrogance +or cupidity in his oppressor, to decide? To secure the wisdom and +perpetuity of this experiment, are not governments instituted? Is not +a monopoly of opportunity by any single class, by all historical and +theoretical proof, not only unjust to the excluded, but crippling +and suicidal to the State? Nay, is not the slightest infringement of +regulated social and political justice, liberty, and humanity, in +the person of black or of white, that makes the greatest potential +development of the highest in human nature impossible or difficult, to +be resisted, as a violation of the peace of the soul, endless treachery +to mankind, an affront to Heaven? Would not the very soil of America, +in which Liberty is said to inhere, cry out and rise against any but an +affirmative answer to such questions? + +A near future will decide. + + * * * * * + + +THE HOUR AND THE MAN. + + +The Twenty-Second of September, 1862, bids fair to become as remarkable +a date in American history as the Fourth of July, 1776; for on that day +the President of the United States, availing himself of the full powers +of his position, declared this country free from that slaveholding +oligarchy which had so long governed it in peace, and the influence of +which was so potently felt for more than a year after it had broken up +the Union, and made war upon the Federal Government. Be the event what +it may,--and the incidents of the war have taught us not to be too +sanguine as to the results of any given movement,--President Lincoln has +placed the American nation in a proper attitude with respect to that +institution the existence of which had so long been the scandal and +the disgrace of a people claiming to be the freest on earth, but whose +powers had been systematically used and abused for the maintenance and +the extension of slave-labor. + +It was our misfortune, and in some sense it was also our fault, that we +were bound to uphold the worst system of slavery that ever was known +among men; for we must judge of every wrong that is perpetrated by the +circumstances that are connected with it, and our oppression of the +African race was peculiarly offensive, inasmuch as it was a proceeding +in flagrant violation of our constantly avowed principles, was continued +in face of the opinions of the founders of the nation, was frankly +upheld on the unmanly ground that the intellectual weakness of the +slaves rendered it safe to oppress them, and was not excused by that +general ignorance of right which has so often been brought forward in +palliation of wrong,--as slavery had come under the ban of Christendom +years before Americans could be found boldly bad enough to claim for it +a divine origin, and to avow that it was a proper, and even the best, +foundation for civil society. Our offence was of the rankest, and its +peculiar character rendered us odious in the eyes of the nations, who +would not admit the force of our plea as to the great difficulties that +lay in the way of the removal of the evil, as they had seen it condemned +by most communities, and abolished by some of their number. + +The very circumstance upon which Americans have relied for the +justification of their form of slavery, namely, that it was confined to +one race, and that race widely separated from all other races by +the existence of peculiar characteristics, has been regarded as an +aggravation of their misconduct by all humane and disinterested persons. +The Greek system of slavery, which was based on the idea that Greeks +were noblemen of Heaven's own creating, and that they therefore were +justified in treating all other men as inferiors, and making the same +use of them as they made of horses; the Roman system, which was based on +the will of society, and therefore made no exceptions on the score of +color, but saw in all strangers only creatures of chase; the Mussulman +system, brought out so strongly by the action of the States of Barbary, +and which was colored by the character of the long quarrel between +Mahometans and Christians, and under which Northern Africa was filled +with myriads of slaves from Southern Europe, among whom were men of +the highest intellect,--Cervantes, for example;--all these systems +of servitude, and others that might be adduced, were respectable in +comparison with our system, which proceeded upon the blasphemous +assumption that God had created and set apart one race that should +forever dwell in the house of bondage. If, in some respects, our system +has been more humane than that of other peoples in other times, the fact +is owing to that general improvement which has taken place the earth +over during the present century. The world has gone forward, and even +American slaveholders have been compelled to go with it, whether they +would or not. + +It was a distinctive feature of slavery, as here known, that it tended +to debauch the mind of Christendom. So long as all men were liable to be +enslaved, and even Shakspeare and Milton were in some danger of sharing +the fate of Cervantes,--and the Barbary corsairs did actually carry +off men from the British Islands in the times of Milton and +Shakspeare,--there could not fail to grow up a general hostility to +slavery, and the institution was booked for destruction. But when +slavery came to be considered as the appropriate condition of one race, +and the members of that race so highly qualified to engage in the +production of cotton and sugar, tobacco and rice, the danger was, not +only that slavery would once more come into favor, but that the African +slave-trade would be replaced in the list of legitimate commercial +pursuits, and become more extensive than it was in those days when it +was defended by bishops and kings' sons in the British House of Lords. +That this is not an unfounded opinion will be admitted by those who +recollect that the London "Times," that representative of the average +English mind, but recently published articles that could mean nothing +less than a desire to revive the old system of slavery, with all that +should be necessary to maintain it in force; that Mr. Carlyle is an +advocate of the oppression of negroes; and that the French Government +at one time seemed disposed to have resort to a course that must, if +adopted, have converted Africa into a storehouse of slaves. + +Our slaveholders were not blind to this altered state of the European +mind, of which they availed themselves, and of which, in a certain +sense, they had the best of all rights to avail themselves, for it was +largely their own work. At the same time that England abolished slavery +in her dominions, the chief Nullifiers, who were the fathers of the +Secession Rebellion, assumed the position that negro slavery was good in +itself, and that it was the duty of white men to uphold and to extend +it. This was done by Governor McDuffie, of South Carolina, in 1834, +and it was warmly approved by many Southern men, as well out of South +Carolina as in that most fanatical of States, but generally condemned by +the Democrats of that time, though now it is not uncommon to find men +in the North who accept all that the old Nullifier put forward as a new +truth eight-and-twenty years ago. Earnestly and zealously, and with no +small amount of talent, the friends of slavery labored to impose their +views upon the entire Southern mind,--and that not so much because they +loved slavery for itself as because they knew, that, if the slaveholding +interest could be placed in opposition to the Federal Union, that Union +might be destroyed. They were fanatics in their attachment to slavery, +but even their fanaticism was secondary to their hatred of that +power which, as represented by Andrew Jackson, had trampled down +Nullification, and compelled Carolina and Calhoun to retreat from cannon +and the gallows. Mr. Rhett, then Mr. Barnwell Smith, said, in the +debates in the Convention on the proposition to accept the Tariff +Compromise of 1833, that he hated the star-spangled banner; and +unquestionably he expressed the feelings of many of his contemporaries, +who deemed submission prudent, but who were consoled by the reflection +that slavery would afford them a far better means for breaking up the +Union than it was possible to get through the existence of any tariff, +no matter how protective it might be. All the great leaders of the first +Secession school had passed away from the earth, when Rhett "still +lived" to see the flag he hated pulled down before the fire that was +poured upon Fort Sumter from Carolina's batteries worked by the hands +of Carolinians. Calhoun, Hamilton, McDuffie, Hayne, Trumbull, Cooper, +Harper, Preston, and others, men of the first intellectual rank in +America, had departed; but Rhett survived to see what they had labored +to effect, and what they would have effected, had they not encountered +one of those iron spirits to whom is sometimes intrusted the government +of nations, and who are of more value to nations than gold and fleets +and armies. All that we have lately seen done, and more, would have been +done thirty years since, had any other man than Andrew Jackson been at +that time President of the United States. There was much cant in those +days about "the one-man power," because President Jackson saw fit to +make use of the Constitutional qualified veto-power to express his +opposition to certain measures adopted by Congress; but the best +exhibition of "the one-man power" that the country ever saw, then or +before or since, was when the same magistrate crushed Nullification, +maintained the Union, and secured the nation's peace for more than a +quarter of a century. We never knew what a great man Jackson was, until +the country was cursed by Buchanan's occupation of the same chair that +Jackson had filled,--a chair that he was unworthy to dust,--and by his +cowardice and treachery which made civil war inevitable. One man, at the +close of 1860, could have done more than has yet been accomplished by +the million of men who have been called to arms because no such man was +then in the nation's service. The "one hour of Dundee" was not more +wanting to the Stuarts than the one month of Jackson was wanting to us +but two years ago. + +The powerful teaching of the Nullifiers was successful. The South, which +assumed to be the exclusive seat of American nationality, while the +North was declared given up to sectionalism, with no other lights on its +path than "blue lights," became the South so devoted to slavery that +it could see nothing else in the country. Old Union men of 1832 became +Secessionists, though Nullification, the milder thing of the two, had +been too much for them to endure. They not only endured the more hideous +evil, but they embraced it. Between 1832 and 1860 a change had been +wrought such as twice that time could not have accomplished at any +earlier period of human history. The old Southern ideas respecting +slavery had disappeared, and that institution had become an object of +idolatry, so that any criticisms to which it was subjected kindled the +same sort of flame that is excited in a pious community when objects of +devotion are assailed and destroyed by the hands of unbelievers. +The astonishing material prosperity that accompanied the system of +slave-labor had, no doubt, much to do with the regard that was bestowed +upon the system itself. That was the time when Cotton became King,--at +least, in the opinion of its worshippers. The Democratic party of the +North passed from that position of radicalism to which the name of +_Locofocoism_ was given, to the position of supporters of the extremest +Southern doctrines, so that for some years it appeared to exist for no +other purpose than to do garrison-duty in the Free States, the cost of +its maintenance being supplied by the Federal revenues. Abroad the same +change began to be noted, the demand for cotton prevailing over the +power of conscience. Everything worked as well for evil as it could +work, and as if Satan himself had condescended to accept the post of +stage-manager for the disturbers of America's peace. + +To take advantage of the change that had been brought about was the +purpose of the whole political population of the South. But though that +section was united in its determination to support the supremacy of +slavery, it was far from being united in its opinions as to the best +mode of accomplishing its object. There were three parties in the South +in the last days of the old Union. The first, and the largest, of these +parties answered very nearly to the Southern portion of the Democratic +party, and contained whatever of sense and force belonged to the South. +It was made up of men who were firmly resolved upon one thing, namely, +that they would ruin the Union, if they should forever lose the power to +rule it; but they had the sagacity to see that the ends which they had +in view could be more easily achieved in the Union than out of it. +They were not disunionists _per se_, but were quite ready to become +disunionists, if the Union was to be governed otherwise than in the +direct and immediate interest of slavery. Slavery was the basis of their +political system, and they knew that it could be better served by the +American Union's continued existence than by the construction of +a Southern Confederacy, provided the former should do all that +slaveholders might require it to do. + +The second Southern party, and the smallest of them all, was composed +of the minions of the Nullifiers, and of their immediate followers, men +whose especial object it was to destroy the Union, and who hated the +subservient portion of the Northern people far more bitterly than they +hated Republicans, or even Abolitionists. They would have preferred +abolition and disunion to the triumph of slavery and the preservation of +the Union. It was not that they loved slavery less, but that they hated +the Union more. Even if the country should submit to the South, the +leaders of this faction knew that they would not be the Southrons to +whom should be intrusted the powers and the business of government. Few +of them were of much account even in their own States, and generally +they could have been set down as chiefs of the opposition to everything +that was reasonable. A remarkable proof of the little hold which this +class of men had on even the most mad of the Southern States, when at +the height of their fury, was afforded by the refusal of South Carolina +to elect Mr. Rhett Governor, her Legislature conferring that post on Mr. +Pickens, a moderate man when compared with Mr. Rhett, and who, there +is reason for believing, would have prevented a resort to Secession +altogether, could he have done so without sacrificing what he held to be +his honor. + +The third Southern party consisted of men who desired the continuance +of the Union, but who wished that some "concessions" should be made, or +"compromises" effected, in order to satisfy men, one portion of whom +were resolved upon having everything, while the other portion were +resolute in their purpose to destroy everything that then existed of a +national character. This third party was mostly composed of those +timid men whose votes count for much at ordinary periods, but who in +extraordinary times are worse than worthless, being in fact incumbrances +on bolder men. They loved the Union, because they loved peace, and were +opposed to violence of all kinds; but their Unionism was much like +Bailie Macwheeble's conscience, which was described as never doing him +any harm. What they would have done, had Government been able to send a +strong force to their assistance at the beginning of the war, we cannot +undertake to say; but they have done little to aid the Federal cause in +the field, while their influence in the Federal councils has been more +prejudicial to the country than the open exertions of the Secessionists +to effect the nation's destruction. + +Of these parties, the first had every reason to believe that it could +soon regain possession of Congress, and that in 1864 it would be able to +elect its candidate to the Presidency. Hence it had no wish to dissolve +the Union; and if its leaders could have had their way, the Union would +have been spared. But the second party, making up for its deficiency in +numbers by the intensity of its zeal, and laboring untiringly, was too +much for the moderates. Hate is a stronger feeling than love of any +kind, stronger even than love of spoils; and the men who followed Rhett +and Yancey, Pryor and Spratt, hated the Union with a perfect hatred. +They got ahead of the men who followed Davis and Stephens, and the rest +of those Southern chiefs who would have been content with the complete +triumph of Southern principles in the Republic as it stood in 1860. As +they broke up the Democratic party in order to render the election +of the Republican candidate certain, so that they might found on his +election the _cri de guerre_ of a "sectional triumph" over the South, so +they "coerced" the Southern people into the adoption of a war-policy. We +have more than once heard Mr. Lincoln blamed for "precipitating matters" +in April, 1861. He should have temporized, it has been said, and so +have preserved peace; but when he called for seventy-five thousand +volunteers, he made war unavoidable. The truth is, that Mr. Lincoln did +not begin the war. It was begun by the South. His call for volunteers +was the consequence of war being made on the nation, and not the cause +of war being made either on the South or by the South. The enemy fired +upon and took Fort Sumter before the first call for volunteers was +issued; and that proceeding must be admitted to have been an act of war, +unless we are prepared to admit that there is a right of Secession. +And Fort Sumter was fired upon and taken through the influence of the +violent party at the South, who were resolved that there should be war. +They knew that it was beyond the power of the Federal Government to send +supplies to the doomed fort, and that in a few days it would pass into +the hands of the Confederates; and this they determined to prevent, +because they knew also that the mere surrender of the garrison, when +it had eaten its last rations, would not suffice to "fire the Northern +heart." They carried their point, and hence it was that war was begun +the middle of April, 1861. But for the triumph of the violent Southern +party, the contest might have been postponed, and even a peace patched +up for the time, and the inevitable struggle put off to a future day. +As it was, Government had no choice, and was compelled to fight; and it +would have been compelled to fight, had it been composed entirely of +Quakers. + +War being unavoidable, and it being clear that slavery was the cause of +it as well as its occasion, and that it would be the main support of our +enemy, it ought to have followed that our first blow should be directed +against that institution. Nothing of the kind happened. Whatever +Government may have thought on the subject, it did nothing to injure +slavery. But for this forbearance, which now appears so astonishing, we +are not disposed to blame the President. He acted as the representative +of the country, which was not then prepared to act vigorously against +the root of the evil that afflicted it. A moral blindness prevailed, +which proved most injurious to the Union cause, and from the effect of +which it may never recover. It was supposed that it was yet possible to +"conciliate" the South, and that that section could be induced to "come +back" into the Union, provided nothing should be done to hurt its +feelings or injure its interests! Looking back to the summer of 1861, it +is with difficulty that we can believe that men were then in possession +of their senses, so inconsistent was their conduct. The Rebels were at +least as sensitive on the subject of their military character as they +were on that of slavery; and yet, while we could not be sufficiently +servile on the latter subject, we acted most offensively on the former. +We asserted, in every form and variety of language, our ability to "put +them down;" and but for the circumstance that not the slightest atom of +ability marked the management of our military affairs, we should +have made our boasting good. Men who could not say enough to satisfy +themselves on the point of the right of the chivalrous Southrons to +create, breed, work, and sell slaves, were equally loud-mouthed in their +expressed purpose to "put down" the said Southrons because they had +rebelled, and rebelled only because they were slaveholders, and for the +purpose of placing slavery beyond the reach of wordy assault in the +country of which it should be the governing power. There has been much +complaint that foreigners have not understood the nature of our quarrel, +and that the general European hostility to the American national cause +is owing to their ignorance of American affairs. How that may be we +shall not stop to inquire; but it is beyond dispute that no European +community has ever displayed a more glaring ignorance of the character +of the contest here waged than was exhibited by most Americans in the +early months of that contest, and down to a recent period. The war +was treated by nearly the whole people as if slavery had no possible +connection with it, and as if all mention of slavery in matters +pertaining to the war were necessarily an impertinence, a foreign +subject lugged into a domestic discussion. Three-fourths of the people +were disposed querulously to ask why Abolitionists couldn't let slavery +alone in war-time. It was a bad thing, was Abolitionism, in time of +peace; but its badness was vastly increased when we had war upon our +hands. Half the other fourth of the citizens were disposed to agree with +the majority, but very shame kept them silent. It was only the few who +had a proper conception of the state of things, and they had little +influence with the people, and, consequently, none with Government. Had +they said much, or attempted to do anything, probably they would have +found Federal arms directed against themselves with much more of force +and effectiveness in their use than were manifested when they were +directed against the Rebels. When a Union general could announce that +he would make use of the Northern soldiers under his command to destroy +slaves who should be so audacious as to rebel against Rebels, and the +announcement was received with rapturous approval at the North, it was +enough to convince every intelligent and reflecting man that no just +idea of the struggle we were engaged in was common, and that a blind +people were following blind leaders into the ditch,--even into that +"last ditch" to which the Secessionists have so often been doomed, but +in which they so obstinately continue to refuse to find their own and +their cause's grave. + +That Government was not much ahead of the people in 1861, and through +most of the present year, respecting the position of slavery, is very +evident to all who know what it did, and what it refused to do, with +regard to that institution. With a hardiness that would have been +strongly offensive, if it had not been singularly ridiculous, Mr. Seward +told the astonished world of Europe that the fate of slavery did not +depend upon the event of our contest,--which was as much as to say that +we should not injure it, happen what might; and no one then supposed +that the Confederates would willingly strike a blow at it, either to +conciliate foreign nations or to obtain black soldiers. The words of the +Secretary of State did us harm in England, with the religious portion of +whose people it is something like an article of faith that slavery is +an addition to the list of deadly sins. They injured us, too, with the +members of the various schools of liberal politicians over all Europe; +and they furnished to our enemies abroad the argument that there really +was no difference between the North and the South on the slavery +question, and that therefore the sympathies of all generous minds +should be with the Southrons, who were the weaker party. Our cause was +irreparably damaged in Europe through the indiscretion of the Honorable +Secretary, who cannot be accused of any love for slavery, but who was +then, as he appears to be up to the present hour, ignorant of the nature +and the extent of the contest of which his country is the scene. Other +members of the Administration had sounder ideas, but their weight in it +was not equal to that of the Secretary of State. + +It is but fair to the President to say, that his conduct was such that +it was obvious that he did not favor slavery because he had any respect +for it. He pulled so hard upon the chains that bound him, that his +desire to throw them off was clear to the world; but they were too +strong, and too well fastened, to be got rid of easily. He feared that +all the Unionists of the Border States would be lost, if he should adopt +the views of the Emancipationists; and the fear was natural, though in +point of fact his course had no good effect in those States, beyond that +of conciliating a portion of the Kentuckians. North Carolina, under the +old system the most moderate of the Slave States, was as far gone in +Secession as South Carolina, and furnished far more men to the Southern +armies than her neighbor. The Virginians and Missourians who went with +us would have pursued the same course, had the President's opinions +on slavery been as radical and pronounced as those of Mr. Garrison. +Maryland was kept from wheeling into the Secession line only by the +presence on her soil, and in her vicinity, of strong Federal armies. In +Tennessee, at a later period of the war, as in North Carolina, Federal +power extended as far as Federal guns could throw Federal shot, though +Tennessee had not been renowned for her extreme attachment to slavery. +But the heavy weight on the Presidential mind came from the Free States, +in which the Pro-Slavery party was so powerful, and the nature of the +war was so little understood, that it was impossible for Government to +strike an effective blow at the source of the enemy's strength. Before +that could be done, it would be necessary that the Northern mind should +be trained to justice in the school of adversity. The position of the +President in 1861 was not unlike to that which the Prince of Orange held +in 1687. Had William made his attempt on England in 1687, the end would +have been failure as complete as that of Monmouth in 1685. It was +necessary that the English mind should be educated up to the point of +throwing aside some cherished doctrines, the maintenance of which stood +in the way of England's safety, prosperity, and greatness. William +allowed the fruit he sought to ripen, and in 1688 he was able to do with +ease that which no human power could have done in 1687. So was it with +Mr. Lincoln, and here. Had the Proclamation lately put forth been issued +in 1861, either it would have fallen dead, or it would have met with +such opposition in the North as would have rendered it impossible to +prosecute the war with any hope of success. There would probably have +been _pronunciamientos_ from some of our armies, and the Union might +have been shivered to pieces without the enemy's lifting their hands +further against it. We do not say that such would have been the course +of events, had the Proclamation then appeared, but it might have taken +that turn; and the President had to allow for possibilities that perhaps +it never occurred to private individuals to think of,--men who had no +sense of responsibility either to the country, to the national cause, or +to the tribunal of history. He would not move as he was advised to move +by good men who had not taken into consideration all the circumstances +of the case, and who could not feel as he was forced to feel because he +was President of the United States. Probably, if he had been a private +citizen, he would have been the foremost man of the Emancipation party; +but the place he holds is so high that he must look over the whole land, +and necessarily he sees much that others can never behold. He saw that +one of two things would happen in a few months after the beginning of +active warfare, toward the close of last winter: either the Rebels would +be beaten in the field, in which event there would be reasonable hope +of the Union's reconstruction, and the people could then take charge +of slavery, and settle its future condition as to them should seem +best,--or our armies would be beaten, and the people would be made to +understand that slavery could no longer be allowed to exist for the +support of an enemy who had announced from the beginning of their +war-movement that their choice was fixed upon conquest, or, failing +that, annihilation. + +It was written that we should fail in the field. We sought to take +Richmond, with an army of force that appeared to be adequate to the +work. We were beaten; and after some months of severe warfare, the +country had the supreme felicity of celebrating the eighty-sixth +anniversary of its Independence by thanking Heaven that its principal +army had escaped capture by falling back to the fever-laden banks of a +river on which lay a naval force so strong as to prevent the further +advance of the victorious Southrons. The exertions that were made to +remove that army from a place that threatened its total destruction +through pestilence led to another series of actions, in which we were +again beaten, and the Secession armies found themselves hard by the very +station which they had so long held after their victory at Bull Run. +Had their numbers been half as large as we estimated them by way of +accounting for our defeats, they could have marched into Washington, +and the American Union would have been at an end, while the Southern +Confederacy would have taken the place which the United States had +possessed among the nations. Fortunately, the enemy were not strong +enough to hazard everything upon one daring stroke. General Lee was +as prudent, or as timid, after his victories over General Pope, as, +according to some authorities, Hannibal was after winning "the field +of blood" at Cannae. What he did, however, was sufficient to show +how serious was the danger that threatened us. If he could not take +Washington, which stood for Rome, he might take Baltimore, which should +be Capua. He entered Maryland, and his movements struck dismay into +Pennsylvania. Harrisburg was marked for seizure, and the archives of the +second State of the Union were sent to New York; and Philadelphia was +considered so unsafe as to cause men to remove articles of value thence +to her ancient rival's protection. That the enemy meant to invade the +North cannot well be doubted; but the resistance they encountered, +leading to their defeat at South Mountain and Antietam, forced them to +retreat. Had they won at Antietam, not only would Washington have been +cut off from land-communication with the North, but Pennsylvania would +have been invaded, and the Southrons would have fattened on the produce +of her rich fields. While these things were taking place in Virginia and +Maryland, Fortune had proved equally unfavorable to us in the South and +the Southwest. We had been defeated near Charleston, and most of our +troops at Port Royal had been transferred to Virginia. Charleston and +Mobile saw ships constantly entering their harbors, bringing supplies to +the Secession forces. Wilmington and Savannah were less liable to attack +than some Northern towns. An attack on Vicksburg had ended in Federal +failure. By the aid of gunboats we had prevented the enemy from taking +Baton Rouge, and destroyed their iron-clad Arkansas; but our soldiers +had to abandon that town, and leave it to be watched by ships, while +they hastened to the defence of New Orleans, a city which they could not +have held half an hour, had the protecting naval force been withdrawn. +The Southwest was mostly abandoned by our troops, and the tide of war +had rolled back to the banks of the Ohio. Nashville was looked upon as +lost, Louisville was in great danger of being taken, and for some days +there was a perfect panic throughout the country respecting the fate of +Cincinnati, the prevailing opinion being that the enemy had as good +a chance of getting possession of that town as we had of maintaining +possession of it. There was hardly a quarter to which a Unionist could +look without encountering something that filled his mind with vexation, +disappointment, shame, and gloom. All that the most hopeful of loyal men +could say was, that the enemy had been made to evacuate Maryland, and +that they had not proceeded beyond threats against any Northern State: +and that was a fine theme for congratulations, after seventeen months +of warfare, in which the Rebels were to have been beaten and the Union +restored! + +Such was the state of affairs, when, six days after the Battle of +Antietam, President Lincoln issued his Proclamation against slavery. +Some persons were pleased to be much astonished when it appeared. They +said they had been deceived. They were right. They were self-deceived. +They had deceived themselves. The President had received their pledge +of support, which they, with an egotism which is not uncommon with +politicians, had construed into a pledge from him to support slavery at +all hazards, under all circumstances, and against all comers. He had +given no pledge either to them or to their opponents. Plainly as man +could speak, he had said that his object was the nation's safety, +either with slavery or without it, the fate of slavery being with him a +secondary matter. If any construction was to be put upon his words to +Mr. Greeley beyond their plainest possible meaning, it was that he +preferred the destruction of slavery to its conservation, for it was +known that he had been an anti-slavery man for years, and he had been +made President by a party which was charged by its foes with being +so fanatically opposed to slavery that it was ready to destroy the +Constitution in order to gain a place from which it could hope to effect +its extermination. But Mr. Lincoln meant neither more nor less than what +he said, his sole object being the overthrow of the Rebels. He has done +no more than any President would have been compelled to do who should +have sought to do his duty. Mr. Douglas could have done no less, had he +been chosen President, and had rebellion followed his election, as we +believe would have been the fact. The Proclamation is not an "Abolition" +state-paper. Not one line of it is of such matter as any Abolitionist +would have penned, though all Abolitionists may be glad that it has +appeared, because its promulgation is a step in the right direction,--a +step sure to be taken, unless the first Federal efforts should also have +been the last, because leading to the defeat of the Rebels, and the +return of peace. The President nowhere says that he seeks the abolition +of slavery. The blow he has dealt is directed against slavery in the +dominions of the Confederacy. That Confederacy claims to be a nation, +and some of our acts amount to a virtual recognition of the claim which +it makes. Now, if we were at war with an old nation of which slavery was +one of the institutions, it could not be said that we had not the +right to offer freedom to its slaves. Objection might be made to +the proclamation of an offer of the kind, but it would be based on +expediency. England would not accept a plan that was formed half a +century ago for the partition of the United States, and which had for +its leading idea the proclamation of freedom to American slaves; but +her refusal was owing to the circumstance that she was herself a great +slaveholding power, and she had no thought of establishing a precedent +that might soon have been used with fatal effect against herself. She +did not close her ears to the proposition because she had any doubt +as to her right to avail herself of an offer of freedom to slaves, +or because she supposed that to make such an offer would be to act +immorally, but because it was inexpedient for her to proceed to +extremities with us, due regard being had to her own interests. Had +slavery been abolished in her dominions twenty years earlier, she would +have acted against American slavery in 1812-15, and probably with entire +success. President Lincoln does not purpose going so far as England +could have gone with perfect propriety. She could have proclaimed +freedom to American slaves without limitation. He has regard to the +character of the war that exists, and so his Proclamation is not threat, +but a warning. In substance, he tells the Rebels, that, if they shall +persist in their rebellion after a certain date, their slaves shall be +made free, if it shall be in his power to liberate them. He gives +them exactly one hundred days in which to make their election between +submission and slavery and resistance and ruin; and these hundred days +may become as noted in history as those Hundred Days which formed the +second reign of Napoleon I., as well through the consequences of the +action that shall mark their course as through the gravity of that +action itself. + +Objections have been made to the time of issuing the Proclamation. Why, +it has been asked, spring it so suddenly upon the country? Why publish +it just as the tide of war was turning in our favor? Why not wait, and +see what the effect would be on the Southern mind of the victories won +in Maryland?--We have no knowledge of the immediate reasons that moved +the President to select the twenty-second of September for the date of +his Proclamation; but we can see three reasons why that day was a good +one for the deed which thereon was done. The President may have argued, +(1,) that the American mind had been brought up to the point of +emancipation under certain well-defined conditions, and that, if he +should not avail himself of the state of opinion, the opportunity +afforded him might pass away, never to return with equal force; (2,) +that foreign nations might base acknowledgment of the Confederacy on the +defeats experienced by our armies in the last days of August, on the +danger of Washington, and on the advance of Rebel armies to the Ohio, +and he was determined that they should, if admitting the Confederacy +to national rank, place themselves in the position of supporters of +slavery; and, (3,) that the successes won by our army in Maryland, +considering the disgraceful business at Harper's Ferry, were not of that +pronounced character which entitles us to assert any supremacy over the +enemy as soldiers. Something like this would seem to be the process +through which President Lincoln arrived at the sound conclusion that the +hour had come to strike a heavy blow at the enemy, and that he was the +man for the hour. + +Thus much for the Proclamation itself, the appearance of which indicates +the beginning of a new period in the Secession contest, and shows that +the American people are capable of conquering their prejudices, provided +their schooling shall be sufficiently severe and costly. But the +Proclamation itself, and without any change in our military policy, +cannot be expected to accomplish anything for the Federal cause. Its +doctrines must be enforced, if there is to be any practical effect from +the change of position taken by the country and the President. If the +same want of capacity that has hitherto characterized the war on our +part is to be exhibited hereafter, the Proclamation might as well have +been levelled against the evils of intemperance as against the evils +of slavery. Never, since war began, has there been such imbecility +displayed in waging it as we have contrived to display in our attacks on +the enemies of the Union. It used to be supposed that Austria was the +slowest and the most stupid of military countries; but America has +got ahead of Austria in the art of doing nothing--or worse than +nothing--with myriads of men and millions of money. We stand before the +world a people to whom military success seems seldom possible, and, +when possible, rarely useful. If we win a victory, we spend weeks in +contemplating its beauties, and never think of improving it. Had one of +our generals won the Battle of Jena, he would have rested for six weeks, +and permitted the Prussian army to reorganize, instead of following it +with that swiftness which alone can prevent brave men from speedily +rallying after a lost battle. Had one of them won Waterloo, he would +not have dreamed of entering France, but would have liberally given to +Napoleon all the time that should have been necessary for his recovery +from so terrible a defeat. They have nothing in them of the qualities +even of old Blücher, who never was counted a first-class commander. +Forbearance has never ceased to be a virtue with them. Whether their +slackness is of native growth, or is the consequence of instructions +from Government, it is plain that adherence to it can never lead to +the conquest of the Southrons. There is now a particular reason why +it should give way to something of a very different character. The +Proclamation has changed the conditions of the contest, and to be +defeated now, driven out of the field for good and all, would be a far +more mortifying termination of the war than it could have been, if we +had already failed utterly. We have committed the unpardonable sin +against slavery, and to fail now would be to place ourselves in the same +position that is held by the commander of a ship of war who nails his +colors to the mast, and yet has to get them down in order to prevent his +conqueror from annihilating him. The action of the Confederate Congress +with reference to the Proclamation, so far as we have accounts of it, +shows that the President's action has intensified the character of the +conflict, and that the enemy are preparing to fight under the banner of +the pirate, declaring that they will show no quarter, because they +look upon the Proclamation as declaring that there shall be no quarter +extended to them. The President of the United States, they say, has +avowed it to be his purpose to inaugurate a servile war in their +country, and they call fiercely for retaliation. They mean, by using +the words "servile war," to convey the impression that there is to be +a general slaying and ravishing throughout the South, on and after the +first of next January, under the special patronage of the American +President, who has ordered his soldiers and his sailors, his ships and +his corps, to be employed in protecting black ravishers of white women +and black murderers of white children. All they say is mere cant, and +is intended for the European market, which they now supply as liberally +with lies as once they did with cotton. Our foolish foes in England +accept every falsehood that is sent them from Richmond, and hence the +torrent of misrepresentation that flows from that city to London. Let +it continue to flow. It can do us no harm, if our action shall be in +correspondence with our cause and our means. If we succeed, falsehood +cannot injure us; if we fail, we shall have something of more importance +than libels to think of. We should bear in mind that our armies are not +to succeed because the slaves shall rise, but that the slaves are to be +freed as a consequence of the success of our armies. That our armies may +succeed, there must be more energy displayed both by their commanders +and by Government. The Proclamation must be enforced, or it will come to +nought. There is nothing self-enforcing about it. Its mere publication +will no more put an end to the Rebellion than President Lincoln's first +proclamation, calling upon the Rebels to cease their evil-doings and +disperse, could put an end to it. Its future value, like that of all +papers that deal with the leading interests of mankind, must depend +altogether upon the future action of the men from whom it emanates, and +that of their constituents. It stands to-day where the Declaration of +Independence stood for the five years that followed its promulgation, +waiting for its place in human annals to be prepared for it by its +supporters. Of what worth would the Declaration of Independence be now, +had it not been for Trenton and Princeton, Saratoga and Yorktown? Of +no worth at all; and its authors would be looked upon as a band of +sentimental political babblers, who could enunciate truths which neither +they nor their countrymen had the capacity to uphold and practically +to demonstrate. But the Declaration of Independence is one of the +most immortal of papers because it proved a grand success; and it was +successful because the men who put it forth were fully competent to the +grand work with the performance of which they were charged. It is for +Mr. Lincoln himself to say whether the Proclamation of September 22, +1861, shall take rank with the Declaration of July 4, 1776, or with +those evidences of flagrant failure that have become so common since +1789,--with the French Declaration of the Rights of Man, and Mexican +Constitutions. That it is the people's duty to support the President is +said by almost all men; but is it not equally the duty of the President +to support the people? And have they not supported him,--supported him +with men, with money, with the surrender of the enjoyment of some of +their dearest rights, with their full confidence, with good wishes and +better deeds, and with all the rest of the numerous moral and material +means of waging war vigorously and triumphantly? And if they have +done and are doing all this, who will be to blame, if the enemy shall +accomplish their purpose? + +The President and his immediate associates are placed so high by their +talents and their positions that they must be supposed open to the love +of fame, and to desire honorable mention in their country's annals, +especially as they have to do with matters of such transcendent +importance, greater even than those that absorbed the attention of +Washington and Hamilton, of Jefferson and Madison, of Jackson and +Livingston. It is for themselves to decide what shall be said of them +hereafter, and through all future time,--whether they shall be blessed +or banned, cursed or canonized. The judgment that shall be passed upon +them and their work will be given according to the result, and from it +there can be no appeal. The Portuguese have a well-known proverb, that +"the way to hell is paved with good intentions;" but it is not +the laborers on that broad and crowded highway who gain honorable +immortality. The decisions of posterity are not made with reference to +men's motives and intentions, but upon their deeds. With posterity, +success is the proper proof of merit, when nothing necessary to its +winning is denied to the players in the world's great games. Richmond is +worshipped, and Richard detested, not because the former was good and +great, and the latter wicked and weak, for Richard was the better and +the abler man, but for the reason that the decision was in Richmond's +favor on Bosworth Field. The only difference between Catiline and +Caesar, according to an eminent statesman and scholar, is this: Catiline +was crushed by his foes, and Caesar's foes were crushed by him. This +may seem harsh, but we fear that it is only too true,--that it is in +accordance with that irreversible law of the world which makes success +the test of worth in the management of human affairs. If Mr. Lincoln +and his confidential officers would have the highest American places in +after-days as well as to-day, let them win those places by winning the +nation's battle. They can have them on no other terms. That is one of +the conditions of the part they accepted when they took upon themselves +their present posts at the beginning of a period of civil convulsion. If +they fail, they will be doomed to profound contempt. In the words of the +foremost man of all this modern world, uttered at the very crisis of his +own fortunes,--Napoleon I., in the summer of 1813,--"To be judged by the +event is the inexorable law of history." + + + + +HOW TO CHOOSE A RIFLE. + + +_To the Editors of the_ ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +Some thirty years ago, a gentleman who had just returned from Europe was +trying to convey an idea of the size and magnificence of St. Peter's +Church to a New-England country-clergyman, and was somewhat taken aback +by the remark of the good man, that "the Pope must require a very +powerful voice to fill such a building." + +The anecdote has been brought to my mind by the unexpected position in +which I am placed, as the recipient of such a multitude of letters, +and from such widely separated portions of the country, elicited by my +article on Rifle-Clubs in the "Atlantic" for September, that I find +myself called upon to address an audience extending from Maine to +Minnesota. Fortunately for me, however, the columns of the "Atlantic" +afford facilities of communication not enjoyed by the Pope, and through +that medium I crave permission to reply to inquiries which afford most +gratifying proof of the wide-spread interest which is awakened in the +subject. + +Almost every letter contains the inquiry, "What is the new +breech-loading rifle you allude to, and where is it to be had?"--but a +large proportion of them also ask advice as to the selection of a rifle; +and with such evidence of general interest in the inquiry, I have +thought I could not do better than to frame my reply specially to this +point. + +The rifle above alluded to is not yet in the market, and probably will +not be for some time to come. Only three or four samples have been +manufactured, and after being subjected to every possible test short +of actual service in the hands of troops, it has proved so entirely +satisfactory that preparations are now making for its extensive +production. Thus far it is known as the Ashcroft rifle, from the name of +the proprietor, Mr. E.H. Ashcroft of Boston, the persevering energy +of whose efforts to secure its introduction will probably never be +appreciated as it deserves, except perhaps by those who have gone +through the trial of bringing out an idea involving in its conception a +great public benefit. + +Lieutenant Busk, in hid "Hand-Book for Hythe," says, "I cannot imagine a +much more helpless or hopeless position than that of an individual who, +having determined to expend his ten or twenty guineas in the purchase +of a rifle, and, guided only by the light of Nature, applies to +a respectable gun-maker to supply his want. I never hear of an +inexperienced buyer in search of a rifle without being reminded of the +purchaser of a telescope, who, on asking the optician, among a multitude +of other questions, whether he would be able to discern an object +through it four miles off, received for reply, 'See an object _four_ +miles off, Sir? You can see an object four-and-twenty thousand miles +off, Sir,--you can see the moon, Sir!' In like manner, if you naïvely +inquire of a gun-maker whether a particular rifle will carry two hundred +yards, the chances are he will exclaim, emphatically, 'Two hundred +yards, Sir? It will carry fifteen hundred.' And so no doubt it may. The +only question, is, How?" + +The questions which have been addressed to me for a few weeks past have +given me a keen appreciation of the difficulties alluded to, in which +multitudes are at this moment plunged, to whom I shall be but too happy +if it is in my power to extend a helping hand. + +At the outset, however, it is but fair to declare my conviction that +no man who has any just appreciation of the subject would attempt to +_choose_ a gun for another, any more than he would a horse, or, I had +almost said, a wife; but he may lay down certain general rules which +each individual must apply for himself, exercising his own taste in the +details. Thus, I have elsewhere declared my own predilection for Colt's +rifle; and I hold to it notwithstanding a strong prejudice against it +which very generally exists. I do not mean to assert that it is a better +shooter than many others, and still less would I urge any one else to +procure one because I like it, but I simply say that its performance is +equal to my requirements, and that the whole construction and getting-up +of the gun suit my fancy; and the fact that another man dislikes it is +no reason why I should discard it. + +I have known men who were continually changing their guns, and seemed +satisfied only with novelties. With such a taste I have no sympathy, +but, on the contrary, my feeling of attachment to a trusty weapon +strengthens with my familiarity with its merits, till it becomes so near +akin to affection that I should find it hard to part with one which had +served me well, and was associated in my mind with adventures whose +interest was derived from its successful performance. + +The first piece of advice I would offer to a novice in search of a gun +is, "Don't be in a hurry." + +The demand is such that a buyer is constantly urged to close a bargain +by the assurance that it may be his last chance to secure such a weapon +as the one he is examining,--and great numbers of mere toys have thus +been forced upon purchasers, who, if they ever practise enough to +acquire a taste for shooting, will send them to the auction-room, and +make another effort to procure a gun suited to their wants. Several new +patterns of guns have been produced within the last year, some of which +are very attractive in their appearance, and to an inexperienced person +seem to possess sufficient power for any service they may ever be called +upon to perform. They are well finished, compact, light, and pretty. +A Government Inspector, indeed, would be apt to make discoveries of +"malleable iron," which would cause their instant rejection, but which +in reality constitutes no ground of objection to guns whose parts are +not required to be interchangeable. They might be described as "well +adapted for ladies' use, or for boys learning to shoot;" but it gave me +a sickening sense of the inexperience of many a noble-hearted youth who +may have entered the service from the purest motives of patriotism, when +a dealer, who was exhibiting one of these parlor-weapons, with a calibre +no larger than a good-sized pea, informed me that he had sold a great +many to young officers, being so light that they could be carried slung +upon the back almost as easily as a pistol. It is with no such kid-glove +tools as these that so many of our officers have been picked off by +Southern sharp-shooters. At a long range they are useless; at close +quarters, which is the only situation in which an officer actually needs +fire-arms, a revolver is far preferable. I know of no rifle so well +adapted to an officer's use as Colt's carbine,--of eighteen or +twenty-one inch barrel, and not less than 44/100 of an inch calibre. It +may be depended upon for six hundred yards, the short barrel renders +its manipulation easy in a close fight, and the value of the repeating +principle at such a time can be estimated only by that of life. + +In a perfectly calm atmosphere, the light guns I have alluded to will +shoot very well for one or two hundred yards; but no one can conceive, +till he proves it by actual trial, what an amazing difference in +precision is the result of even a very slight increase of weight of +ball, when the air is in motion. Even in a dead calm no satisfactory +shooting can be done beyond two hundred yards with a lighter ball than +half an ounce, and any one who becomes interested in rifle-practice will +soon grow impatient of being confined to short ranges and calm weather. +This brings us, then, to the question of calibre, which I conceive to be +the first one to be decided in selecting a gun, and the decision rests +upon the uses to which the gun is to be applied. If it is wanted merely +for military service, nothing better than the Enfield can be procured; +but if the purchaser proposes to study the niceties of practice, and to +enter into it with a keen zest, he will need a very different style of +gun. A calibre large enough for a round ball of fifty to the pound, or +an elongated shot of about half an ounce, is sufficient for six hundred +yards; and a gun of that calibre, with a thirty-inch barrel, and a +weight of about ten pounds, is better suited to the general wants of +purchasers than any other size. In this part of the country it is by no +means easy to find a place where shooting can be safely practised even +at so long a range as five hundred yards,--which is sixty yards more +than a quarter of a mile. It is always necessary to have an attendant +at the target to point out the shots, and even then the shooter needs +a telescope to distinguish them. For ordinary purposes, therefore, the +calibre I have indicated is all-sufficient; but if a gun is wanted for +shooting up to one thousand yards, the shot should be a full ounce +weight. These are points which each man must determine for himself, and, +having done so, let him go to any gun-maker of established reputation, +and, before giving his order, let him study and compare the different +forms of stocks, till he finds what is required for his peculiar +physical conformation,--and giving directions accordingly, he will +probably secure a weapon whose merits he will not fully appreciate +till he has attained a degree of skill which is the result only of +long-continued practice. + +But never buy a gun, and least of all a rifle, without trying it; and do +not be satisfied with a trial in a shop or shooting gallery, but take it +into the field; and if you distrust yourself, get some one in whom you +have confidence to try it for you. Choose a perfectly calm day. Have a +rest prepared on which not only the gun may be laid, but a support may +also be had for the elbows, the shooter being seated. By this means, and +with the aid of globe- and peek-sights, (which should always be used in +trying a gun,) it may as certainly be held in the same position at every +shot as if it were clamped in a machine. For your target take a sheet of +cartridge-paper and draw on it a circle of a foot, and, inside of that, +another of four inches in diameter. Paint the space between the rings +black, and you will then have a black ring four inches wide surrounding +a white four-inch bull's-eye, against which your globe-sight will be +much more distinctly seen than if it were black. Place the target so +that when shooting you may have the sun on your back. On a very bright +day, brown paper is better for a target than white. Begin shooting +at one hundred yards and fire ten shots, with an exact aim at the +bull's-eye, wiping out the gun after each shot. Do not look to see where +you hit, till you have fired your string of ten shots; for, if you +do, you will be tempted to alter your aim and make allowance for the +variation, whereas your object now is not to hit the bull's-eye, but to +prove the shooting of the gun; and if you find, when you get through, +that all the shots are close together, you may be sure the gun shoots +well, though they may be at considerable distance from the bull's-eye. +That would only prove that the line of sight was not coincident with the +line of fire, which can be easily rectified by moving the forward sight +to the right or left, according as the variation was on the one side +or the other. Having fired your string of ten shots, take a pair of +dividers, and, with a radius equal to half the distance between the two +hits most distant from each other, describe a circle cutting through the +centre of each of those hits. From the centre of this circle measure the +distance to each of the hits, add these distances together and divide +the sum by ten, and you have the average variation, which ought not to +be over two inches at the utmost, and if the gun is what it ought to be, +and fired by a good marksman, would probably be much less. This is a +sufficient test of the precision for that distance, and the same method +may be adopted for longer ranges. But if the gun shoots well at one +hundred yards, its capacity for a longer range may be proved by its +penetrating power. Provide a number of pieces of seasoned white-pine +board, one inch thick and say two feet long by sixteen inches wide. +These are to be secured parallel to each other and one inch apart by +strips nailed firmly to their sides, and must be so placed that when +shot at the balls may strike fairly at a right angle to their face. +Try a number of shots at the distance of one hundred yards, and note +carefully how many boards are penetrated at each shot. The elongated +shots are sometimes turned in passing through a board so as to strike +the next one sideways, which of course increases the resistance very +greatly, and such shots should not be counted; but if you find generally +that the penetration of those which strike fairly is not over six +inches, you may rest assured the gun cannot be relied on, except in +a dead calm, for more than two hundred yards, and with anything of a +breeze you will make no good shooting even at that distance. Nine inches +of penetration is equal to six hundred yards, and twelve inches is good +for a thousand. + +A striking proof of the prevailing ignorance of scientific principles in +rifle-shooting is afforded by the fact that it is still a very common +practice to vary the charge of powder according to the distance to be +shot. The fact is, that beyond a certain point any increase of the +initial velocity of the ball is unfavorable both to range and precision, +owing to the ascertained law that the ratio of increase of atmospheric +resistance is four times that of the velocity, so that, after the point +is reached at which they balance each other, any additional propulsive +power is injurious. The proper charge of powder for any rifle is about +one-seventh the weight of the ball, and the only means which should ever +be adopted for increasing the range is the elevating sight. + +In conclusion, I would impress upon the young rifleman the importance +of always keeping his weapon in perfect order. If you have never looked +through the barrel of a rifle, you can have no conception what a +beautifully finished instrument it is; and when you learn that the +accuracy of its shooting may be affected by a variation of the +thousandth part of an inch on its interior surface, you may appreciate +the necessity of guarding against the intrusion of even a speck of rust. +Never suffer your rifle to be laid aside after use till it has +been thoroughly cleaned,--the barrel wiped first with a wet rag, +(cotton-flannel is best,) then rubbed dry, then well oiled, and then +again wiped with a dry rag. In England this work may be left to a +servant, but with us the servants are so rare to whom such work can be +intrusted that the only safe course is to see to it yourself; and if you +have a true sportsman's love for a gun, you will not find the duty a +disagreeable one. + + * * * * * + + +THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION. + + +In so many arid forms which States incrust themselves with, once in a +century, if so often, a poetic act and record occur. These are the jets +of thought into affairs, when, roused by danger or inspired by genius, +the political leaders of the day break the else insurmountable routine +of class and local legislation, and take a step forward in the direction +of catholic and universal interests. Every step in the history of +political liberty is a sally of the human mind into the untried future, +and has the interest of genius, and is fruitful in heroic anecdotes. +Liberty is a slow fruit. It comes, like religion, for short periods, and +in rare conditions, as if awaiting a culture of the race which shall +make it organic and permanent. Such moments of expansion in modern +history were the Confession of Augsburg, the plantation of America, the +English Commonwealth of 1648, the Declaration of American Independence +in 1776, the British emancipation of slaves in the West Indies, the +passage of the Reform Bill, the repeal of the Corn-Laws, the Magnetic +Ocean-Telegraph, though yet imperfect, the passage of the Homestead +Bill in the last Congress, and now, eminently, President Lincoln's +Proclamation on the twenty-second of September. These are acts of +great scope, working on a long future, and on permanent interests, and +honoring alike those who initiate and those who receive them. These +measures provoke no noisy joy, but are received into a sympathy so deep +as to apprise us that mankind are greater and better than we know. At +such times it appears as if a new public were created to greet the +new event. It is as when an orator, having ended the compliments and +pleasantries with which he conciliated attention, and having run over +the superficial fitness and commodities of the measure he urges, +suddenly, lending himself to some happy inspiration, announces with +vibrating voice the grand human principles involved,--the bravoes and +wits who greeted him loudly thus far are surprised and overawed: a new +audience is found in the heart of the assembly,--an audience hitherto +passive and unconcerned, now at last so searched and kindled that they +come forward, every one a representative of mankind, standing for all +nationalities. + +The extreme moderation with which the President advanced to his +design,--his long-avowed expectant policy, as if he chose to be strictly +the executive of the best public sentiment of the country, waiting only +till it should be unmistakably pronounced,--so fair a mind that none +ever listened so patiently to such extreme varieties of opinion,--so +reticent that his decision has taken all parties by surprise, whilst +yet it is the just sequel of his prior acts,--the firm tone in which he +announces it, without inflation or surplusage,--all these have bespoken +such favor to the act, that, great as the popularity of the President +has been, we are beginning to think that we have underestimated the +capacity and virtue which the Divine Providence has made an instrument +of benefit so vast. He has been permitted to do more for America than +any other American man. He is well entitled to the most indulgent +construction. Forget all that we thought shortcomings, every mistake, +every delay. In the extreme embarrassments of his part, call these +endurance, wisdom, magnanimity, illuminated, as they now are, by this +dazzling success. + +When we consider the immense opposition that has been neutralized or +converted by the progress of the war, (for it is not long since the +President anticipated the resignation of a large number of officers in +the army, and the secession of three States, on the promulgation of this +policy,)--when we see how the great stake which foreign nations hold in +our affairs has recently brought every European power as a client into +this court, and it became every day more apparent what gigantic and +what remote interests were to be affected by the decision of the +President,--one can hardly say the deliberation was too long. Against +all timorous counsels he had the courage to seize the moment; and such +was his position, and such the felicity attending the action, that he +has replaced Government in the good graces of mankind. "Better is virtue +in the sovereign than plenty in the season," say the Chinese. 'Tis +wonderful what power is, and how ill it is used, and how its ill use +makes life mean, and the sunshine dark. Life in America had lost much of +its attraction in the later years. The virtues of a good magistrate undo +a world of mischief, and, because Nature works with rectitude, seem +vastly more potent than the acts of bad governors, which are ever +tempered by the good-nature in the people, and the incessant resistance +which fraud and violence encounter. + +The acts of good governors work at a geometrical ratio, as one midsummer +day seems to repair the damage of a year of war. + +A day which most of us dared not hope to see, an event worth the +dreadful war, worth its costs and uncertainties, seems now to be close +before us. October, November, December will have passed over beating +hearts and plotting brains: then the hour will strike, and all men of +African descent who have faculty enough to find their way to our lines +are assured of the protection of American law. + +It is by no means necessary that this measure should be suddenly marked +by any signal results on the negroes or on the Rebel masters. The force +of the act is that it commits the country to this justice,--that it +compels the innumerable officers, civil, military, naval, of the +Republic to range themselves on the line of this equity. It draws the +fashion to this side. It is not a measure that admits of being taken +back. Done, it cannot be undone by a new Administration. For slavery +overpowers the disgust of the moral sentiment only through immemorial +usage. It cannot be introduced as an improvement of the nineteenth +century. This act makes that the lives of our heroes have not been +sacrificed in vain. It makes a victory of our defeats. Our hurts are +healed; the health of the nation is repaired. With a victory like this, +we can stand many disasters. It does not promise the redemption of the +black race: that lies not with us: but it relieves it of our opposition. +The President by this act has paroled all the slaves in America; they +will no more fight against us; and it relieves our race once for all of +its crime and false position. The first condition of success is secured +in putting ourselves right. We have recovered ourselves from our false +position, and planted ourselves on a law of Nature. + + "If that fail, + The pillared firmament is rottenness, + And earth's base built on stubble." + +The Government has assured itself of the best constituency in the world: +every spark of intellect, every virtuous feeling, every religious heart, +every man of honor, every poet, every philosopher, the generosity of the +cities, the health of the country, the strong arms of the mechanics, the +endurance of farmers, the passionate conscience of women, the sympathy +of distant nations,--all rally to its support. Of course, we are +assuming the firmness of the policy thus declared. It must not be a +paper proclamation. We confide that Mr. Lincoln is in earnest, and, as +he has been slow in making up his mind, has resisted the importunacy of +parties and of events to the latest moment, he will be as absolute in +his adhesion. Not only will he repeat and follow up his stroke, but the +nation will add its irresistible strength. If the ruler has duties, so +has the citizen. In times like these, when the nation is imperilled, +what man can, without shame, receive good news from day to day, without +giving good news of himself? What right has any one to read in the +journals tidings of victories, if he has not bought them by his own +valor, treasure, personal sacrifice, or by service as good in his own +department? With this blot removed from our national honor, this heavy +load lifted off the national heart, we shall not fear henceforward +to show our faces among mankind. We shall cease to be hypocrites and +pretenders, but what we have styled our free institutions will be such. + +In the light of this event the public distress begins to be removed. +What if the brokers' quotations show our stocks discredited, and the +gold dollar costs one hundred and twenty-seven cents? These tables are +fallacious. Every acre in the Free States gained substantial value on +the twenty-second of September. The cause of disunion and war has been +reached, and begun to be removed. Every man's house-lot and garden +are relieved of the malaria which the purest winds and the strongest +sunshine could not penetrate and purge. The territory of the Union +shines to-day with a lustre which every European emigrant can discern +from far: a sign of inmost security and permanence. Is it feared that +taxes will check immigration? That depends on what the taxes are spent +for. If they go to fill up this yawning Dismal Swamp, which engulfed +armies and populations, and created plague, and neutralized hitherto +all the vast capabilities of this continent,--then this taxation, which +makes the land wholesome and habitable, and will draw all men unto +it, is the best investment in which property-holder ever lodged his +earnings. + +Whilst we have pointed out the opportuneness of the Proclamation, it +remains to be said that the President had no choice. He might look +wistfully for what variety of courses lay open to him: every line but +one was closed up with fire. This one, too, bristled with danger, +but through it was the sole safety. The measure he has adopted was +imperative. It is wonderful to see the unseasonable senility of what is +called the Peace party, through all its masks, blinding their eyes to +the main feature of the war, namely, its inevitableness. The war existed +long before the cannonade of Sumter, and could not be postponed. It +might have begun otherwise or elsewhere, but war was in the minds and +bones of the combatants, it was written on the iron leaf, and you +might as easily dodge gravitation. If we had consented to a peaceable +secession of the Rebels, the divided sentiment of the Border States made +peaceable secession impossible, the insatiable temper of the South made +it impossible, and the slaves on the border, wherever the border might +be, were an incessant fuel to rekindle the fire. Give the Confederacy +New Orleans, Charleston, and Richmond, and they would have demanded St. +Louis and Baltimore. Give them these, and they would have insisted on +Washington. Give them Washington, and they would have assumed the army +and navy, and, through these, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. It +looks as if the battle-field would have been at least as large in that +event as it is now. The war was formidable, but could not be avoided. +The war was and is an immense mischief, but brought with it the immense +benefit of drawing a line, and rallying the Free States to fix it +impassably,--preventing the whole force of Southern connection and +influence throughout the North from distracting every city with endless +confusion, detaching that force and reducing it to handfuls, and, in the +progress of hostilities, disinfecting us of our habitual proclivity, +through the affection of trade, and the traditions of the Democratic +party, to follow Southern leading. + +These necessities which have dictated the conduct of the Federal +Government are overlooked, especially by our foreign critics. +The popular statement of the opponents of the war abroad is the +impossibility of our success. "If you could add," say they, "to your +strength the whole army of England, of France, and of Austria, you +could not coerce eight millions of people to come under this Government +against their will." This is an odd thing for an Englishman, a +Frenchman, or an Austrian to say, who remembers the Europe of the last +seventy years,--the condition of Italy, until 1859,--of Poland, since +1793,--of France, of French Algiers,--of British Ireland, and British +India. But, granting the truth, rightly read, of the historical +aphorism, that "the people always conquer," it is to be noted, that, +in the Southern States, the tenure of land, and the local laws, with +slavery, give the social system not a democratic, but an aristocratic +complexion; and those States have shown every year a more hostile and +aggressive temper, until the instinct of self-preservation forced us +into the war. And the aim of the war on our part is indicated by the +aim of the President's Proclamation, namely, to break up the false +combination of Southern society, to destroy the piratic feature in it +which makes it our enemy only as it is the enemy of the human race, and +so allow its reconstruction on a just and healthful basis. Then new +affinities will act, the old repulsions will cease, and, the cause +of war being removed, Nature and trade may be trusted to establish a +lasting peace. + +We think we cannot overstate the wisdom and benefit of this act of the +Government. The malignant cry of the Secession press within the Free +States, and the recent action of the Confederate Congress, are decisive +as to its efficiency and correctness of aim. Not less so is the silent +joy which has greeted it in all generous hearts, and the new hope it has +breathed into the world. + +It was well to delay the steamers at the wharves, until this edict could +be put on board. It will be an insurance to the ship as it goes plunging +through the sea with glad tidings to all people. Happy are the young who +find the pestilence cleansed out of the earth, leaving open to them +an honest career. Happy the old, who see Nature purified before they +depart. Do not let the dying die: hold them back to this world, until +you have charged their ear and heart with this message to other +spiritual societies, announcing the melioration of our planet. + + "Incertainties now crown themselves assured, + And Peace proclaims olives of endless age." + +Meantime that ill-fated, much-injured race which the Proclamation +respects will lose somewhat of the dejection sculptured for ages in +their bronzed countenance, uttered in the wailing of their plaintive +music,--a race naturally benevolent, joyous, docile, industrious, and +whose very miseries sprang from their great talent for usefulness, +which, in a more moral age, will not only defend their independence, but +will give them a rank among nations. + + * * * * * + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_History of Friedrich the Second, called Frederick the Great._ By THOMAS +CARLYLE. In Four Volumes. Vol. III. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1862. + +Although History flows in a channel never quite literally dry, and for +certain purposes a continuous chronicle of its current is desirable, +it is only in rare reaches, wherein it meets formidable obstacles to +progress, that it becomes grand and impressive; and even in such cases +the interest deepens immeasurably, when some master-spirit arises to +direct its energies. The period of Frederick the Great was not one of +these remarkable passages. It was marked, however, with the signs that +precede such. Europe lay weltering and tossing in seemingly aimless +agitation, yet in real birth-throes; and the issue was momentous and +memorable, namely: The People. From the hour in which they emerged from +the darkness of the French Revolution, they have so absorbed attention +that men have had little opportunity to look into the causes which +forced them to the front, and made wiser leadership thenceforth +indispensable to peaceful rule. The field, too, was repulsive with the +appearance of nearly a waste place, save only that Frederick the Second +won the surname of "Great" by his action thereon. And it may be justly +averred that only to reveal his life, and perhaps that of one other, was +it worthy of resuscitation. To do this was an appalling labor, for the +skeleton thereof was scattered through the crypts of many kingdoms; yet, +by the commanding genius of Mr. Carlyle, bone hath not only come to +his bone, but they have been clothed with flesh and blood, so that the +captains of the age, and, moreover, the masses, as they appeared in +their blind tusslings, are restored to sight with the freshness +and fulness of Nature. Although this historical review is strictly +illustrative, it is altogether incomparable for vividness and +originality of presentation. The treatment of official personages is +startlingly new. All ceremony toward them gives place to a fearful +familiarity, as of one who not only sees through and through them, but +oversees. Grave Emptiness and strutting Vanity, found in high places, +are mocked with immortal mimicry. Indeed, those of the "wind-bag" +species generally, wherever they appear in important affairs, are so +admirably exposed, that we see how they inevitably lead States to +disaster and leave them ruins, while their pompous and feeble methods of +doing it are so put as to call forth the contemptuous smiles, yea, the +derisive laughter, of all coming generations. In fine, the alternate +light and shade, which so change the aspect and make the mood of human +nature, were never so touched in before; and therefore it is the saddest +and the merriest story ever told. + +In bold and splendid contrast with this picture of national life flow +the life and fortunes of Frederick. If the qualities of his progenitors +prophesied this right royal course, his portrait, by Pesne, shows him +to have been conceived in some happy moment when Nature was in her most +generous mood. What finish of form and feature! and what apparent power +to win! Yet in what serene depths it rests, to be aroused only by some +superb challenger! No strength of thought or stress of situation seems +to have had power to line the curves of beauty. Observe, too, the +full-blown mouth, which never saw cause to set itself in order to form +or fortify a purpose. When it is remembered that in opening manhood this +prince was long imprisoned under sentence of death for attempting to +escape from paternal tyranny, and that his friend actually died on the +gallows merely for generous complicity in this offence against the state +of a king, and that neither of the terrible facts left permanent trace +on his countenance or cloud on his spirit, it should create no surprise +that nothing but the march of time was ever visible there. Though +trained in such a school, and in the twenty-eighth year of his age when +he reached the throne, he yet gave a whole and a full heart to his +subjects, and sought to guide them solely for their good. From this +purpose he never swerved; and though his somewhat too trustful methods +were rapidly changed by stern experience, his people felt more and more +the consummate wisdom of his guidance, and they became unconquerable +by that truth and that faith. Almost on the first day of his reign, he +invited Voltaire, the greatest of literary heroes, the most adroit and +successful assaulter of king-craft and priest-craft that ever lived, to +his capital and to his palace; and in a most friendly spirit consulted +him on the advancement of art and letters, exhausted him by the +touchstone of superior capacity, and even fathomed him by a glance +so keen and so covert that it always took, but never gave, and then +complimented him home in so masterly a manner that he was lured into the +fond belief that he had found a disciple. A mind so capacious and so +reticent is always an enigma to near observers. Hence it is that the +transcendently great may be more truly known to after-ages than to +any contemporary. By the patient research and profound insight of Mr. +Carlyle, Frederick the Great is thus rising into clear and perennial +light. What deserts of dust he wrought in, and what a jungle of false +growths he had to clear away, Dryasdust and Smelfungus mournfully hint +and indignantly moralize,--under such significant names does this new +Rhadamanthus reveal the real sins of mankind, and deliver them over to +the judgment of their peers. Frederick, indeed, is among them, but not +of them. The way in which he is made to come forth from the mountains of +smoke and cinders remaining of his times is absolutely marvellous. As +some mighty and mysterious necromancer quickens the morbid imagination +to supernatural sight, and for a brief moment reveals through rolling +mist and portentous cloud the perfect likeness of the one longed for +by the rapt gazer, so Frederick is restored in this biography for +the perpetual consolation and admiration of all coming heroes. In +comprehension and judgment of the actions and hearts of men, and in +vividness of writing, not that which shook the soul of Belshazzar in the +midst of his revellers was more powerful, or more sure of approval and +fulfilment. It is not only one of the greatest of histories and of +biographies, but nothing in literature, from any other pen, bears any +likeness to it. It is truly a solitary work,--the effort of a vast and +lonely nature to find a meet companion among the departed. + + +1. _The Rejected Stone; or, Insurrection vs. Resurrection in America._ +By a Native of Virginia. Second Edition. Boston: Walker, Wise, & Co. +1862. + +2. _The Golden Hour._ By MONCURE D. CONWAY, Author of "The Rejected +Stone." _Impera parendo._ Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1862. + +Seldom have political writings found such accomplices in events as +these, whose final criticism appears in the great Proclamation of the +President. Two campaigns have been the bloody partisans of this earnest +pen: the impending one will cheerfully undertake its final vindication. +Not because these two little books stand sole and preëminent, the +isolated prophecies of an all but rejected truth, nor because they have +created the opinion out of which the President gathers breath for his +glorious words. Mr. Conway would hardly claim more, we think, than to +have spoken frankly what the people felt, the same people which hailed +the early emancipationing instinct of General Fremont. We see the fine +sense of Mr. Emerson in his advice to hitch our wagon to a star, but +there must be a well-seasoned vehicle, with a cunning driver to thrust +his pin through the coupling, one not apt to jump out when the axles +begin to smoke. + +At the first overt act of this great Rebellion, anti-slavery men +perceived the absurdity of resisting a symptom instead of attacking the +disease. They proclaimed the old-fashioned truth, that an eruption can +be rubbed back again into the system, not only without rubbing out +its cause, but at the greatest hazard to the system, which is loudly +announcing its difficulty in this cutaneous fashion. But Northern +politicians saw that the inflammatory blotches made the face of the +country ugly and repulsive: their costliest preparations have been well +rubbed in ever since, without even yet reducing the rebellious red; +on the contrary, it flamed out more vigorously than ever. Their old +practice was not abandoned, the medicines only were changed. The wash +of compromise was replaced by the bath of blood. And into that dreadful +color the tears and agony of a million souls have been distilled, as if +they would make a mixture powerful enough to draw out all our trouble +by the pores. The very skin of the Rebellion chafed and burned more +fiercely with all this quackery. + +If Slavery is our disease, the Abolition of Slavery is our remedy. Our +bayonets only cupped and scored the patient, our war-measures in and out +of Congress only worked dynamically against other war-measures far more +dogged and desperate than our own. The sentence of Emancipation is the +specific whose operation will be vital, by effecting an alteration in +the system, and soon annihilating that condition of the blood which +feeds our fevers and rushes in disgusting blotches to the face. "No,"--a +Northern minority still says,--"every fever has its term; only watch +your self-limiting disease, keep the patient from getting too much hurt +during his delirium, and he will be on 'Change before long." + +No doubt of that. He loves to be on 'Change; of all the places in the +country, out of his own patriarchal neighborhoods, not even Saratoga +and Newport were ever so exhilarating to him as Wall Street and State +Street, and he longs to be well enough to infest his whilom haunts. +Slavery is a self-limited disease, for it suffers nothing but itself to +impose its limits. In that sense the North would soon have his old crony +on the pavement again, with one yellow finger in his button-hole, and +another nervously playing at a trigger behind the back. For the North +was paying roundly in men and dollars to renew that pleasurable +intercourse, to get the dear old soul out again as little dilapidated as +possible, with as much of the old immunities and elasticities preserved +as an attack so violent would allow. + +The President said to the deputation of Quakers, "Where the Constitution +cannot yet go, a proclamation cannot." This was accepted by a portion of +the North as another compact expression of Presidential wisdom. It was +the common sense, curtly and neatly put, upon which our armies waited, +and for whose cold and bleached utterances our glorious young men were +sent home from Washington by rail in coffins, red receipts of Slavery to +acknowledge Northern indecision. It was the kind of common sense which, +after every family-tomb has got its tenant, and wives, mothers, sisters +tears to be their bread and meat continually, would have jogged on +'Change snugly some fine morning arm in arm with the murderer of their +noble dead. + +For, though neither the Constitution nor a proclamation can quite yet go +down practically into Slavery, Slavery might come up here to find the +Constitution in its old place at the Potomac ferry, and without a toll +or pike to heed. + +It seemed so sensible to say, that, where one document cannot go, +another cannot! And yet it depends upon what is in the document. If the +Constitution _could_ go South now, it would be the last thing we should +want to send, at this stage of the national malady. It contains the +immunity out of which the malady has flamed. Its very neutrality is the +best protection which a conquered South could have, and a moral triumph +that would richly compensate it for a military defeat. Would it not have +been quite as sagacious, and equally aphoristic, if the President had +said, "Where a proclamation cannot go, the Constitution never can +again"? He has said it! And if the proclamation goes first, the +Constitution will follow to bless and to save. + +Both of these little books of Mr. Conway are devoted to showing the +necessity for a proclamation of emancipation, as simple justice, as +military policy, as mercy to the South, to put us right at home and +abroad, to destroy at once the cause of the Republic's shame and sorrow. +He combats various objections: such as that a proclamation of that +nature would send home instantly the pro-slavery officers and men who +are now fighting merely to enhance their own importance or to restore +the state of things before the war: that a proclamation of emancipation, +finding its way, as it surely would, to the heart of every slave, would +breed insurrections and all the horrors of a servile war: that such +a document would not be worth the paper which it blotted, until the +military power of the South was definitively broken: that it would +convert the Border States into active foes, and make them rush by +natural proclivity into the bosom of Secession. Mr. Conway disposes well +of a great deal of trash which even good Republican papers, upon which +we have hitherto relied, but can do so no longer, have vented under all +these heads of objections. + +He writes with such enthusiasm, and is so plainly a dear lover and +worshipper of the justice which can alone exalt this nation, that we are +carried clear over the wretched half-republicanism which has been trying +all the year to say eminently sound and unexceptionable things, we +forget the deceit and expediency whose leaded columns have been more +formidable than those which rolled the tide of war back again to the +Potomac. Great is the animating power of faith, when faithfully brought +home to the universal instinct for righteousness. Mr. Conway was born +and bred among slaveholders, knows them and their institution, knows +the slave, and his moral condition, and his expectations: so that these +inspiriting prophecies of his are more than those of a lively and +talented pamphleteer. + +His earnest purpose in writing lifts us pretty well over some things in +his style which seem to us discordant with his glorious theme. He has +a way, as good as the President's, to whom much of his matter is +addressed, of making his apologues and stories tell; they are apt, and +give the reader the sensation of being clinched. One feels like a nail +when it catches the board. But sometimes the transition to a grotesque +allusion from a fine touch of fancy or from the inbred religiousness +of the subject is abrupt. Jean Paul may offer you, in his most glowing +page, a quid of tobacco, if he pleases; the shock is picturesque, and +sometimes lets in a deep analogy. But the hour in which Mr. Conway +writes, the height of faith from which his pen stoops to the mortal +page, the unspeakable solemnity of the theme, which our volunteers are +rudely striving to trace upon their country's bosom with their blood, +and our women are steeping in their tears, ought to drive all flippancy +shuddering from the lines in which sarcasm itself should be measured and +awful as the deaths which gird us round. + +But the two volumes are full of power and feeling. They are written +so that all may read. Their effect is popular, without stooping +deliberately to become so. They are among the brightest and simplest +pages which this exciting period has produced. It would be a great +mistake to gauge their effect by what they bring to pass in the minds of +cabinet-officers, editors, and party-leaders: for they put into plain, +stout language the growing instinct of the people to get at the cause of +the war which lays them waste. + +Some of the most effective pages in these volumes are those which lament +the dread alternative of war, and which show that emancipation would be +merciful to all classes at the South. It is no paradox that to free the +slaves to-morrow would restore health to the South and regenerate its +people. + +And we are glad that Mr. Conway speaks so emphatically against that +measure of colonization, whether the proposition be to deport the +contrabands to Hayti, or to tote them away to Central America under the +leadership of intelligent colored representatives of the North. All +these are plans which look to the eventual removal of the only men +at the South who know how to labor, and who are now the only +representatives there of the country's industrial ideas. We pray you, +Mr. President, to use the money voted for colonizing purposes to rid the +country of the men in the Border and Cotton States who cannot or will +not work, slave-owners and bushwhackers, who kill and harry, but who +never did an honest stroke of work in their lives, and whom, with or +without slavery, this Republic will have to support. Take some Pacific +Island for a great Alms-House, and inaugurate an exodus of the genuine +Southern pauper; he is only an incumbrance to the industrious and +humble-minded blacks, from whose toil the country may draw the staples +of free sugar and free cotton, raised upon the soil which is theirs by +the holy prescription of blood and sorrow. "If it were not for your +presence in the country," says the President to the colored men, "we +should have no war!" If it were not for silverware and jewelry, no +burglaries would be committed! Don't let us get rid of the villains, but +of the victims; thereby villainy will cease! + +Let Mr. Pomeroy be sent to annex some of the Paumotu or Tongan groups, +where spontaneous bread-fruit would afford Mr. Floyd good plucking, and +Messrs. Wigfall, Benjamin, and Prior could even have their chewing done +by proxy, for the native pauper employs the old women to masticate his +Ava into drink. There they might continue to take their food from other +people's mouths, with the chance now and then of a strong anti-slavery +clergyman well barbecued, a luxury for which they have howled for many a +year. That is the place for your oligarchic pauper, where the elements +themselves are field-hands, with Nature for overseer, manufactures +superfluous and free-trade a blessing, and plenty of colored persons to +raise the mischief with. That is the sole crop which they have raised at +home. Let their propensities be transferred to a place unconnected with +the politics or the privileges of a Christian Republic. + +But let this great Republic drive into exile the wheat-growers of the +West, the miners and iron-men of Pennsylvania, and the farmers of New +England, as soon as these men who have created the cotton-crop which +clothes a world, and who only wait for another stimulus to supersede the +lash. Let them find it, as in Jamaica, in a plot of ground, their seed +and tools, their hearth-side and marriage, their freedom, and the +shelter of a country which wants to use the products of their hands. + +If it be an object to stretch a great band of free tropical labor across +Central America, to people those wastes with ideas which shall curb +the southward lust of men, and nourish a grateful empire against the +intrigues of European States, let that be done, if the colored American +of the Border States is willing to advance the project. Let the project +be clearly understood, and its prospective upholders frankly invited to +become men, and aid their country's welfare. But never let colonization +be opened like an artery, through whose "unkindest cut" some of the best +blood of the country shall slip away and be lost forever. We want the +cotton labor even more extensively diffused, to conquer John Bull with +bales, as at New Orleans. Let no cotton-grower ever budge. + + +_The Life and Letters of Washington Irving._ By his Nephew, PIERRE M. +IRVING. Vols. I and II. New York: G.P. Putnam. + +If to be loved and admired by all, to have troops of personal friends, +to enjoy a literary reputation wide in extent and high in degree, to +be as little stung by envy and detraction as the lot of humanity will +permit, to secure material prosperity with only occasional interruptions +and intermissions, make up the elements of a happy life, then that of +Washington Irving must be pronounced one of the most fortunate in the +annals of literature. It is but repeating a trite remark to say that +happiness depends more upon organization than upon circumstances, more +upon what we are than upon what we have. Saint-Simon said of the Duke of +Burgundy, father of Louis XV., that he was born terrible: it certainly +may be said of Washington Irving that he was born happy. Some men +are born unhappy: that is, they are born with elements of character, +peculiarities of temperament, which generate discontent under all +conditions of life. Their joints are not lubricated by oil, but fretted +by sand. The contemporaries of Shakspeare, who for the most part had +little comprehension of his unrivalled genius, expressed their sense +of his personal qualities by the epithet gentle, which was generally +applied to him,--a word which meant rather more then than it does now, +comprising sweetness, courtesy, and kindliness. No one word could +better designate the leading characteristics of Irving's nature and +temperament. No man was ever more worthy to bear "the grand old name +of gentleman," alike in the essentials of manliness, tenderness, and +purity, and in the external accomplishment of manners so winning and +cordial that they charmed alike men, women, and children. He had the +delicacy of organization which is essential to literary genius, but it +stopped short of sickliness or irritability. He was sensitive to beauty +in all its forms, but was never made unhappy or annoyed by the shadows +in the picture of life. He had a happy power of escaping from everything +that was distasteful, uncomfortable, and unlovely, and dwelling in +regions of sunshine and bloom. His temperament was not impassioned; and +this, though it may have impaired somewhat the force of his genius, +contributed much to his enjoyment of life. Considering that he was an +American born, and that his youth and early manhood were passed in a +period of bitter and virulent political strife, it is remarkable how +free his writings are from the elements of conflict and opposition. He +never put any vinegar into his ink. He seems to have been absolutely +without the capacity of hating any living thing. He was a literary +artist; and the productions of his pen address themselves to the +universal and unpartisan sympathies of mankind as much as paintings +or statues. His "Rip Van Winkle" and "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" are +pictures, in which we find combined the handling of Teniers, the +refinement of Stothard, and the coloring of Gainsborough. + +Fortunate in so many other things, Irving may also be pronounced +fortunate in his biographer, whom he himself designated for the trust. +His nephew has performed his labor of love in a manner which will +satisfy all but those who read a book mainly for the purpose of finding +fault with it. In his brief and tasteful preface he says: "In the +delicate office of sifting, selecting, and arranging these different +materials, extending through a period of nearly sixty years, it has +been my aim to make the author, in every stage of his career, as far as +possible, his own biographer, conscious that I shall in this way best +fulfil the duty devolved upon me, and give to the world the truest +picture of his life and character." To this purpose Mr. Pierre M. +Irving has adhered with uniform consistency. He makes his uncle his own +biographer. To borrow a happy illustration which we found in a newspaper +a few days since, his own portion of the book is like the crystal of +a watch, through which we see the hands upon the face as through +transparent air. And luckily he found ample materials in his uncle's +papers and records. Washington Irving was not bred to any profession, +and had a fixed aversion, not characteristic of his countrymen, for +regular business-occupation; his literary industry was fitful, and not +continuous: but he seems to have been fond of the occupation of writing, +and spent upon his diaries and in his correspondence a great many hours, +which he could hardly have done, if he had been a lawyer, a doctor, or +even a merchant, in active employment. His warm family-affections, too, +his strong love for his brothers and sisters, from most of whom he was +for many years separated, were a constant incitement to the writing of +letters, those invisible wires that keep up the communication between +parted hearts. For all these peculiarities of nature, for all these +accidents of fortune, we have reason to be grateful, since from these +his biographer has found ample materials for constructing the fabric of +his life from the foundation. + +Many of Irving's letters, especially in the second volume, are long and +elaborate productions, which read like chapters from a book of travels, +or like essays, and yet do not on that account lose the peculiar charm +which we demand in such productions. They are perfectly natural in tone +and feeling, though evidently written with some care. They are not in +the least artificial, and yet not careless or hasty. They have all that +easy and graceful flow, that transparent narrative, that unconscious +charm, which we find in his published writings; and we not unfrequently +discern gleams and touches of that exquisite humor which was the best +gift bestowed upon his mind. Brief as our notice is, we cannot refrain +from quoting in illustration of our remark a few sentences from a letter +to Thomas Moore, written in 1824:-- + +"I went a few evenings since to see Kenney's new piece, 'The Alcaid.' It +went off lamely, and the Alcaid is rather a bore, and comes near to be +generally thought so. Poor Kenney came to my room next evening, and +I could not have believed that one night could have ruined a man so +completely. I swear to you I thought at first it was a flimsy suit of +clothes had left some bedside and walked into my room without waiting +for the owner to get up, or that it was one of those frames on which +clothiers stretch coats at their shop-doors, until I perceived _a thin +face, sticking edgeways out of the collar of the coat like the axe in +a bundle of fasces._ He was so thin, and pale, and nervous, and +exhausted,--he made a dozen difficulties in getting over a spot in the +carpet, and never would have accomplished it, if he had not lifted +himself over by the points of his shirt-collar." + +The illustration we have Italicized is rather wit than humor; but be it +as it may, it is capital; and the whole paragraph has that quaint and +grotesque exaggeration which reminds us of the village-tailor in "The +Sketch-Book," "who played on the clarionet, and seemed to have blown his +face to a point," or of Mud Sam, who "knew all the fish in the river by +their Christian names." + +We think no one can read these volumes without having a higher +impression of Washington Irving as a man. There was no inconsistency +between the author and the man. The tenderness, the purity of feeling, +the sensibility, which gave his works an entrance into so many hearts, +had their source in his mind and character. It is a very truthful record +that we have before us. The delineation is that of a man certainly not +without touches of human infirmity, but as certainly largely endowed +with virtues as well as with gifts and graces. It is very evident that +it is a truthful biography, and that the hand of faithful affection has +found nothing to suppress or conceal. When we have laid down the book, +we feel that we know the man. And we can understand why it was that he +was so loved. Enemies, it seems, he had, or at least ill-wishers; since +we learn--and it is one of the indications of his soft and sensitive +nature--that he was seriously annoyed by a persecutor who persistently +inclosed and forwarded to him every scrap of unfavorable criticism he +could find in the newspapers: but the feeling that inspired this piece +of ill-nature must have been envy, and not hatred,--the bitterness which +is awakened in some unhappy tempers by the success which they cannot +themselves attain. No man less deserved to be hated than Irving, for no +man was less willing himself to give heart-room to hatred. + +We need hardly add that these volumes--of which the larger part is +by Irving himself--are very entertaining, and that we read them from +beginning to end with unflagging interest. Sketches of society and +manners, personal anecdotes, descriptions of scenery, buildings, and +works of art, give animation and variety to the narrative. The whole is +suffused with a golden glow of cheerfulness, the effluence of a nature +very happy, yet never needing the sting of riot or craving the flush of +excess, and finding its happiness in those pure fountains that refresh, +but not intoxicate. + +The close of the second volume brings us down to the year 1832, and his +cordial reception by his friends and countrymen after an absence of +seventeen years; so that more good things are in store for us. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, +November, 1862, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11158 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ba672f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11158 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11158) diff --git a/old/11158-8.txt b/old/11158-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cff020c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11158-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9758 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, +November, 1862, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, November, 1862 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 19, 2004 [EBook #11158] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, NO. 61 *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +THE + +ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. X.--NOVEMBER, 1862.--NO. LXI. + + + + +WILD APPLES. + + +THE HISTORY OF THE APPLE-TREE. + + +It is remarkable how closely the history of the Apple-tree is connected +with that of man. The geologist tells us that the order of the +_Rosaceae_, which includes the Apple, also the true Grasses, and the +_Labiatae_, or Mints, were introduced only a short time previous to the +appearance of man on the globe. + +It appears that apples made a part of the food of that unknown primitive +people whose traces have lately been found at the bottom of the Swiss +lakes, supposed to be older than the foundation of Rome, so old that +they had no metallic implements. An entire black and shrivelled +Crab-Apple has been recovered from their stores. + +Tacitus says of the ancient Germans, that they satisfied their hunger +with wild apples (_agrestia poma_) among other things. + +Niebuhr observes that "the words for a house, a field, a plough, +ploughing, wine, oil, milk, sheep, apples, and others relating to +agriculture and the gentler way of life, agree in Latin and Greek, while +the Latin words for all objects pertaining to war or the chase are +utterly alien from the Greek." Thus the apple-tree may be considered a +symbol of peace no less than the olive. + +The apple was early so important, and generally distributed, that its +name traced to its root in many languages signifies fruit in general. +[Greek: Maelon], in Greek, means an apple, also the fruit of other +trees, also a sheep and any cattle, and finally riches in general. + +The apple-tree has been celebrated by the Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and +Scandinavians. Some have thought that the first human pair were tempted +by its fruit. Goddesses are fabled to have contended for it, dragons +were set to watch it, and heroes were employed to pluck it. + +The tree is mentioned in at least three places in the Old Testament, +and its fruit in two or three more. Solomon sings,--"As the apple-tree +among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." And +again,--"Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples." The noblest part +of man's noblest feature is named from this fruit, "the apple of the +eye." + +The apple-tree is also mentioned by Homer and Herodotus. Ulysses saw in +the glorious garden of Alcinoüs "pears and pomegranates, and apple-trees +bearing beautiful fruit" ([Greek: kahi maeleai aglaokarpoi]). And +according to Homer, apples were among the fruits which Tantalus +could not pluck, the wind ever blowing their boughs away from him. +Theophrastus knew and described the apple-tree as a botanist. + +According to the Prose Edda, "Iduna keeps in a box the apples which +the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of +to become young again. It is in this manner that they will be kept in +renovated youth until Ragnarök" (or the destruction of the gods). + +I learn from Loudon that "the ancient Welsh bards were rewarded for +excelling in song by the token of the apple-spray;" and "in the +Highlands of Scotland the apple-tree is the badge of the clan Lamont." + +The apple-tree (_Pyrus malus_) belongs chiefly to the northern temperate +zone. Loudon says, that "it grows spontaneously in every part of Europe +except the frigid zone, and throughout Western Asia, China, and Japan." +We have also two or three varieties of the apple indigenous in North +America. The cultivated apple-tree was first introduced into this +country by the earliest settlers, and it is thought to do as well or +better here than anywhere else. Probably some of the varieties which are +now cultivated were first introduced into Britain by the Romans. + +Pliny, adopting the distinction of Theophrastus, says,--"Of trees there +are some which are altogether wild (_sylvestres_), some more civilized +(_urbaniores_)." Theophrastus includes the apple among the last; and, +indeed, it is in this sense the most civilized of all trees. It is as +harmless as a dove, as beautiful as a rose, and as valuable as flocks +and herds. It has been longer cultivated than any other, and so is more +humanized; and who knows but, like the dog, it will at length be no +longer traceable to its wild original? It migrates with man, like the +dog and horse and cow: first, perchance, from Greece to Italy, thence to +England, thence to America; and our Western emigrant is still marching +steadily toward the setting sun with the seeds of the apple in his +pocket, or perhaps a few young trees strapped to his load. At least a +million apple-trees are thus set farther westward this year than any +cultivated ones grew last year. Consider how the Blossom-Week, like the +Sabbath, is thus annually spreading over the prairies; for when man +migrates, he carries with him not only his birds, quadrupeds, insects, +vegetables, and his very sward, but his orchard also. + +The leaves and tender twigs are an agreeable food to many domestic +animals, as the cow, horse, sheep, and goat; and the fruit is sought +after by the first, as well as by the hog. Thus there appears to have +existed a natural alliance between these animals and this tree from the +first. "The fruit of the Crab in the forests of France" is said to be "a +great resource for the wild-boar." + +Not only the Indian, but many indigenous insects, birds, and quadrupeds, +welcomed the apple-tree to these shores. The tent-caterpillar saddled +her eggs on the very first twig that was formed, and it has since shared +her affections with the wild cherry; and the canker-worm also in +a measure abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it grew apace, the +blue-bird, robin, cherry-bird, king-bird, and many more, came with +haste and built their nests and warbled in its boughs, and so became +orchard-birds, and multiplied more than ever. It was an era in the +history of their race. The downy woodpecker found such a savory morsel +under its bark, that he perforated it in a ring quite round the tree, +before he left it,--a thing which he had never done before, to my +knowledge. It did not take the partridge long to find out how sweet its +buds were, and every winter eve she flew, and still flies, from the +wood, to pluck them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too, was +not slow to learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the fruit +was ripe, the squirrel half-rolled, half-carried it to his hole; and +even the musquash crept up the bank from the brook at evening, and +greedily devoured it, until he had worn a path in the grass there; and +when it was frozen and thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste +it occasionally. The owl crept into the first apple-tree that became +hollow, and fairly hooted with delight, finding it just the place for +him; so, settling down into it, he has remained there ever since. + +My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the +seasons in the annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to my +special province. + +The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree's, +so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is +frequently tempted to turn and linger near some more than usually +handsome one, whose blossoms are two-thirds expanded. How superior it is +in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither colored nor +fragrant! + +By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of +coddling, and of the autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with little +ones which fall still-born, as it were,--Nature thus thinning them for +us. The Roman writer Palladius said,--"If apples are inclined to fall +before their time, a stone placed in a split root will retain them." +Some such notion, still surviving, may account for some of the stones +which we see placed to be overgrown in the forks of trees. They have a +saying in Suffolk, England,-- + + "At Michaelmas time, or a little before, + Half an apple goes to the core." + +Early apples begin to be ripe about the first of August; but I think +that none of them are so good to eat as some to smell. One is worth more +to scent your handkerchief with than any perfume which they sell in the +shops. The fragrance of some fruits is not to be forgotten, along with +that of flowers. Some gnarly apple which I pick up in the road reminds +me by its fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona,--carrying me forward to +those days when they will be collected in golden and ruddy heaps in the +orchards and about the cider-mills. + +A week or two later, as you are going by orchards or gardens, especially +in the evenings, you pass through a little region possessed by the +fragrance of ripe apples, and thus enjoy them without price, and without +robbing anybody. + +There is thus about all natural products a certain volatile and ethereal +quality which represents their highest value, and which cannot be +vulgarized, or bought and sold. No mortal has ever enjoyed the perfect +flavor of any fruit, and only the god-like among men begin to taste its +ambrosial qualities. For nectar and ambrosia are only those fine flavors +of every earthly fruit which our coarse palates fail to perceive,--just +as we occupy the heaven of the gods without knowing it. When I see a +particularly mean man carrying a load of fair and fragrant early apples +to market, I seem to see a contest going on between him and his horse, +on the one side, and the apples on the other, and, to my mind, the +apples always gain it. Pliny says that apples are the heaviest of all +things, and that the oxen begin to sweat at the mere sight of a load +of them. Our driver begins to lose his load the moment he tries to +transport them to where they do not belong, that is, to any but the most +beautiful. Though he gets out from time to time, and feels of them, and +thinks they are all there, I see the stream of their evanescent and +celestial qualities going to heaven from his cart, while the pulp and +skin and core only are going to market. They are not apples, but pomace. +Are not these still Iduna's apples, the taste of which keeps the gods +forever young? and think you that they will let Loki or Thjassi carry +them off to Jötunheim, while they grow wrinkled and gray? No, for +Ragnarök, or the destruction of the gods, is not yet. + +There is another thinning of the fruit, commonly near the end of August +or in September, when the ground is strewn with windfalls; and this +happens especially when high winds occur after rain. In some orchards +you may see fully three-quarters of the whole crop on the ground, lying +in a circular form beneath the trees, yet hard and green,--or, if it is +a hill-side, rolled far down the hill. However, it is an ill wind that +blows nobody any good. All the country over, people are busy picking up +the windfalls, and this will make them cheap for early apple-pies. + +In October, the leaves falling, the apples are more distinct on the +trees. I saw one year in a neighboring town some trees fuller of fruit +than I remembered to have ever seen before, small yellow apples hanging +over the road. The branches were gracefully drooping with their weight, +like a barberry-bush, so that the whole tree acquired a new character. +Even the topmost branches, instead of standing erect, spread and drooped +in all directions; and there were so many poles supporting the lower +ones, that they looked like pictures of banian-trees. As an old English +manuscript says, "The mo appelen the tree bereth, the more sche boweth +to the folk." + +Surely the apple is the noblest of fruits. Let the most beautiful or the +swiftest have it. That should be the "going" price of apples. + +Between the fifth and twentieth of October I see the barrels lie under +the trees. And perhaps I talk with one who is selecting some choice +barrels to fulfil an order. He turns a specked one over many times +before he leaves it out. If I were to tell what is passing in my mind, I +should say that every one was specked which he had handled; for he rubs +off all the bloom, and those fugacious ethereal qualities leave it. Cool +evenings prompt the farmers to make haste, and at length I see only the +ladders here and there left leaning against the trees. + +It would be well, if we accepted these gifts with more joy and +gratitude, and did not think it enough simply to put a fresh load of +compost about the tree. Some old English customs are suggestive at +least. I find them described chiefly in Brand's "Popular Antiquities." +It appears that "on Christmas eve the farmers and their men in +Devonshire take a large bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and carrying +it in state to the orchard, they salute the apple-trees with much +ceremony, in order to make them bear well the next season." This +salutation consists in "throwing some of the cider about the roots +of the tree, placing bits of the toast on the branches," and then, +"encircling one of the best bearing trees in the orchard, they drink the +following toast three several times:-- + + 'Here's to thee, old apple-tree, + Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow, + And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! + Hats-full! caps-full! + Bushel, bushel, sacks-full! + And my pockets full, too! Hurra!'" + +Also what was called "apple-howling" used to be practised in various +counties of England on New-Year's eve. A troop of boys visited the +different orchards, and, encircling the apple-trees, repeated the +following words:-- + + "Stand fast, root! bear well, top! + Pray God sent! us a good howling crop: + Every twig, apples big; + Every bough, apples enow!" + +"They then shout in chorus, one of the boys accompanying them on a cow's +horn. During this ceremony they rap the trees with their sticks." This +is called "wassailing" the trees, and is thought by some to be "a relic +of the heathen sacrifice to Pomona." + +Herrick sings,-- + + "Wassaile the trees that they may beare + You many a plum and many a peare; + For more or less fruits they will bring + As you so give them wassailing." + +Our poets have as yet a better right to sing of cider than of wine; but +it behooves them to sing better than English Phillips did, else they +will do no credit to their Muse. + + +THE WILD APPLE. + + +So much for the more civilized apple-trees (_urbaniores_, as Pliny +calls them). I love better to go through the old orchards of ungrafted +apple-trees, at whatever season of the year,--so irregularly planted: +sometimes two trees standing close together; and the rows so devious +that you would think that they not only had grown while the owner was +sleeping, but had been set out by him in a somnambulic state. The rows +of grafted fruit will never tempt me to wander amid them like these. But +I now, alas, speak rather from memory than from any recent experience, +such ravages have been made! + +Some soils, like a rocky tract called the Easterbrooks Country in my +neighborhood, are so suited to the apple, that it will grow faster in +them without any care, or if only the ground is broken up once a year, +than it will in many places with any amount of care. The owners of this +tract allow that the soil is excellent for fruit, but they say that it +is so rocky that they have not patience to plough it, and that, together +with the distance, is the reason why it is not cultivated. There are, +or were recently, extensive orchards there standing without order. Nay, +they spring up wild and bear well there in the midst of pines, birches, +maples, and oaks. I am often surprised to see rising amid these trees +the rounded tops of apple-trees glowing with red or yellow fruit, in +harmony with the autumnal tints of the forest. + +Going up the side of a cliff about the first of November, I saw a +vigorous young apple-tree, which, planted by birds or cows, had shot +up amid the rocks and open woods there, and had now much fruit on it, +uninjured by the frosts, when all cultivated apples were gathered. It +was a rank wild growth, with many green leaves on it still, and made an +impression of thorniness. The fruit was hard and green, but looked as if +it would be palatable in the winter. Some was dangling on the twigs, but +more half-buried in the wet leaves under the tree, or rolled far down +the hill amid the rocks. The owner knows nothing of it. The day was not +observed when it first blossomed, nor when it first bore fruit, unless +by the chickadee. There was no dancing on the green beneath it in its +honor, and now there is no hand to pluck its fruit,--which is only +gnawed by squirrels, as I perceive. It has done double duty,--not only +borne this crop, but each twig has grown a foot into the air. And this +is _such_ fruit! bigger than many berries, we must admit, and carried +home will be sound and palatable next spring. What care I for Iduna's +apples so long as I can get these? + +When I go by this shrub thus late and hardy, and see its dangling fruit, +I respect the tree, and I am grateful for Nature's bounty, even though +I cannot eat it. Here on this rugged and woody hill-side has grown an +apple-tree, not planted by man, no relic of a former orchard, but a +natural growth, like the pines and oaks. Most fruits which we prize and +use depend entirely on our care. Corn and grain, potatoes, peaches, +melons, etc., depend altogether on our planting; but the apple emulates +man's independence and enterprise. It is not simply carried, as I have +said, but, like him, to some extent, it has migrated to this New World, +and is even, here and there, making its way amid the aboriginal trees; +just as the ox and dog and horse sometimes run wild and maintain +themselves. + +Even the sourest and crabbedest apple, growing in the most unfavorable +position, suggests such thoughts as these, it is so noble a fruit. + + +THE CRAB. + + +Nevertheless, _our_ wild apple is wild only like myself, perchance, who +belong not to the aboriginal race here, but have strayed into the woods +from the cultivated stock. Wilder still, as I have said, there grows +elsewhere in this country a native and aboriginal Crab-Apple, _Malus +coronaria_, "whose nature has not yet been modified by cultivation." It +is found from Western New-York to Minnesota, and southward. Michaux +says that its ordinary height "is fifteen or eighteen feet, but it is +sometimes found twenty-five or thirty feet high," and that the large +ones "exactly resemble the common apple-tree." "The flowers are white +mingled with rose-color, and are collected in corymbs." They are +remarkable for their delicious odor. The fruit, according to him, is +about an inch and a half in diameter, and is intensely acid. Yet they +make fine sweetmeats, and also cider of them. He concludes, that, "if, +on being cultivated, it does not yield new and palatable varieties, it +will at least be celebrated for the beauty of its flowers, and for the +sweetness of its perfume." + +I never saw the Crab-Apple till May, 1861. I had heard of it through +Michaux, but more modern botanists, so far as I know, have not treated +it as of any peculiar importance. Thus it was a half-fabulous tree +to me. I contemplated a pilgrimage to the "Glades," a portion of +Pennsylvania where it was said to grow to perfection. I thought of +sending to a nursery for it, but doubted if they had it, or would +distinguish it from European varieties. At last I had occasion to go to +Minnesota, and on entering Michigan I began to notice from the cars a +tree with handsome rose-colored flowers. At first I thought it some +variety of thorn; but it was not long before the truth flashed on me, +that this was my long-sought Crab-Apple. It was the prevailing +flowering shrub or tree to be seen from the cars at that season of the +year,--about the middle of May. But the cars never stopped before one, +and so I was launched on the bosom of the Mississippi without having +touched one, experiencing the fate of Tantalus. On arriving at St. +Anthony's Falls, I was sorry to be told that I was too far north for the +Crab-Apple. Nevertheless I succeeded in finding it about eight miles +west of the Falls; touched it and smelled it, and secured a lingering +corymb of flowers for my herbarium. This must have been near its +northern limit. + + +HOW THE WILD APPLE GROWS. + + +But though these are indigenous, like the Indians, I doubt whether they +are any hardier than those backwoodsmen among the apple-trees, which, +though descended from cultivated stocks, plant themselves in distant +fields and forests, where the soil is favorable to them. I know of no +trees which have more difficulties to contend with, and which more +sturdily resist their foes. These are the ones whose story we have to +tell. It oftentimes reads thus:-- + +Near the beginning of May, we notice little thickets of apple-trees just +springing up in the pastures where cattle have been,--as the rocky ones +of our Easter-brooks Country, or the top of Nobscot Hill, in +Sudbury. One or two of these perhaps survive the drought and other +accidents,--their very birthplace defending them against the encroaching +grass and some other dangers, at first. + + In two years' time 't had thus + Reached the level of the rocks, + Admired the stretching world, + Nor feared the wandering flocks. + + But at this tender age + Its sufferings began; + There came a browsing ox + And cut it down a span. + +This time, perhaps, the ox does not notice it amid the grass; but +the next year, when it has grown more stout, he recognizes it for a +fellow-emigrant from the old country, the flavor of whose leaves and +twigs he well knows; and though at first he pauses to welcome it, and +express his surprise, and gets for answer, "The same cause that brought +you here brought me," he nevertheless browses it again, reflecting, it +may be, that he has some title to it. + +Thus cut down annually, it does not despair; but, putting forth two +short twigs for every one cut off, it spreads out low along the ground +in the hollows or between the rocks, growing more stout and scrubby, +until it forms, not a tree as yet, but a little pyramidal, stiff, twiggy +mass, almost as solid and impenetrable as a rock. Some of the densest +and most impenetrable clumps of bushes that I have ever seen, as well on +account of the closeness and stubbornness of their branches as of their +thorns, have been these wild-apple scrubs. They are more like the +scrubby fir and black spruce on which you stand, and sometimes walk, on +the tops of mountains, where cold is the demon they contend with, than +anything else. No wonder they are prompted to grow thorns at last, to +defend themselves against such foes. In their thorniness, however, there +is no malice, only some malic acid. + +The rocky pastures of the tract I have referred to--for they maintain +their ground best in a rocky field--are thickly sprinkled with these +little tufts, reminding you often of some rigid gray mosses or lichens, +and you see thousands of little trees just springing up between them, +with the seed still attached to them. + +Being regularly clipped all around each year by the cows, as a hedge +with shears, they are often of a perfect conical or pyramidal form, from +one to four feet high, and more or less sharp, as if trimmed by the +gardener's art. In the pastures on Nobscot Hill and its spurs, they make +fine dark shadows when the sun is low. They are also an excellent covert +from hawks for many small birds that roost and build in them. Whole +flocks perch in them at night, and I have seen three robins' nests in +one which was six feet in diameter. + +No doubt many of these are already old trees, if you reckon from the day +they were planted, but infants still when you consider their development +and the long life before them. I counted the annual rings of some which +were just one foot high, and as wide as high, and found that they were +about twelve years old, but quite sound and thrifty! They were so +low that they were unnoticed by the walker, while many of their +contemporaries from the nurseries were already bearing considerable +crops. But what you gain in time is perhaps in this case, too, lost +in power,--that is, in the vigor of the tree. This is their pyramidal +state. + +The cows continue to browse them thus for twenty years or more, keeping +them down and compelling them to spread, until at last they are so broad +that they become their own fence, when some interior shoot, which their +foes cannot reach, darts upward with joy: for it has not forgotten its +high calling, and bears its own peculiar fruit in triumph. + +Such are the tactics by which it finally defeats its bovine foes. Now, +if you have watched the progress of a particular shrub, you will see +that it is no longer a simple pyramid or cone, but that out of its apex +there rises a sprig or two, growing more lustily perchance than an +orchard-tree, since the plant now devotes the whole of its repressed +energy to these upright parts. In a short time these become a small +tree, an inverted pyramid resting on the apex of the other, so that +the whole has now the form of a vast hour-glass. The spreading bottom, +having served its purpose, finally disappears, and the generous tree +permits the now harmless cows to come in and stand in its shade, and rub +against and redden its trunk, which has grown in spite of them, and even +to taste a part of its fruit, and so disperse the seed. + +Thus the cows create their own shade and food; and the tree, its +hour-glass being inverted, lives a second life, as it were. + +It is an important question with some nowadays, whether you should trim +young apple-trees as high as your nose or as high as your eyes. The +ox trims them up as high as he can reach, and that is about the right +height, I think. + +In spite of wandering kine, and other adverse circumstances, that +despised shrub, valued only by small birds as a covert and shelter from +hawks, has its blossom-week at last, and in course of time its harvest, +sincere, though small. + +By the end of some October, when its leaves have fallen, I frequently +see such a central sprig, whose progress I have watched, when I thought +it had forgotten its destiny, as I had, bearing its first crop of small +green or yellow or rosy fruit, which the cows cannot get at over the +bushy and thorny hedge which surrounds it, and I make haste to taste the +new and undescribed variety. We have all heard of the numerous varieties +of fruit invented by Van Mons and Knight. This is the system of Van Cow, +and she has invented far more and more memorable varieties than both of +them. + +Through what hardships it may attain to bear a sweet fruit! Though +somewhat small, it may prove equal, if not superior, in flavor to that +which has grown in a garden,--will perchance be all the sweeter and more +palatable for the very difficulties it has had to contend with. Who +knows but this chance wild fruit, planted by a cow or a bird on some +remote and rocky hill-side, where it is as yet unobserved by man, may be +the choicest of all its kind, and foreign potentates shall hear of it, +and royal societies seek to propagate it, though the virtues of the +perhaps truly crabbed owner of the soil may never be heard of,--at +least, beyond the limits of his village? It was thus the Porter and the +Baldwin grew. + +Every wild-apple shrub excites our expectation thus, somewhat as every +wild child. It is, perhaps, a prince in disguise. What a lesson to man! +So are human beings, referred to the highest standard, the celestial +fruit which they suggest and aspire to bear, browsed on by fate; and +only the most persistent and strongest genius defends itself and +prevails, sends a tender scion upward at last, and drops its perfect +fruit on the ungrateful earth. Poets and philosophers and statesmen thus +spring up in the country pastures, and outlast the hosts of unoriginal +men. + +Such is always the pursuit of knowledge. The celestial fruits, the +golden apples of the Hesperides, are ever guarded by a hundred-headed +dragon which never sleeps, so that it is an Herculean labor to pluck +them. + +This is one, and the most remarkable way, in which the wild apple is +propagated; but commonly it springs up at wide intervals in woods and +swamps, and by the sides of roads, as the soil may suit it, and grows +with comparative rapidity. Those which grow in dense woods are very tall +and slender. I frequently pluck from these trees a perfectly mild and +tamed fruit. As Palladius says, "_Et injussu consternitur ubere mali_": +And the ground is strewn with the fruit of an unbidden apple-tree. + +It is an old notion, that, if these wild trees do not bear a valuable +fruit of their own, they are the best stocks by which to transmit to +posterity the most highly prized qualities of others. However, I am not +in search of stocks, but the wild fruit itself, whose fierce gust has +suffered no "inteneration," It is not my + + "highest plot + To plant the Bergamot." + + +THE FRUIT, AND ITS FLAVOR. + + +The time for wild apples is the last of October and the first of +November. They then get to be palatable, for they ripen late, and they +are still perhaps as beautiful as ever. I make a great account of +these fruits, which the farmers do not think it worth the while to +gather,--wild flavors of the Muse, vivacious and inspiriting. The farmer +thinks that he has better in his barrels, but he is mistaken, unless he +has a walker's appetite and imagination, neither of which can he have. + +Such as grow quite wild, and are left out till the first of November, I +presume that the owner does not mean to gather. They belong to children +as wild as themselves,--to certain active boys that I know,--to the +wild-eyed woman of the fields, to whom nothing comes amiss, who gleans +after all the world,--and, moreover, to us walkers. We have met with +them, and they are ours. These rights, long enough insisted upon, have +come to be an institution in some old countries, where they have learned +how to live. I hear that "the custom of grippling, which may be called +apple-gleaning, is, or was formerly, practised in Herefordshire. It +consists in leaving a few apples, which are called the gripples, on +every tree, after the general gathering, for the boys, who go with +climbing-poles and bags to collect them." + +As for those I speak of, I pluck them as a wild fruit, native to this +quarter of the earth,--fruit of old trees that have been dying ever +since I was a boy and are not yet dead, frequented only by the +woodpecker and the squirrel, deserted now by the owner, who has not +faith enough to look under their boughs. From the appearance of the +tree-top, at a little distance, you would expect nothing but lichens to +drop from it, but your faith is rewarded by finding the ground strewn +with spirited fruit,--some of it, perhaps, collected at squirrel-holes, +with the marks of their teeth by which they carried them,--some +containing a cricket or two silently feeding within, and some, +especially in damp days, a shelless snail. The very sticks and stones +lodged in the tree-top might have convinced you of the savoriness of the +fruit which has been so eagerly sought after in past years. + +I have seen no account of these among the "Fruits and Fruit-Trees of +America," though they are more memorable to my taste than the grafted +kinds; more racy and wild American flavors do they possess, when October +and November, when December and January, and perhaps February and March +even, have assuaged them somewhat. An old farmer in my neighborhood, who +always selects the right word, says that "they have a kind of bow-arrow +tang." + +Apples for grafting appear to have been selected commonly, not so much +for their spirited flavor, as for their mildness, their size, and +bearing qualities,--not so much for their beauty, as for their fairness +and soundness. Indeed, I have no faith in the selected lists of +pomological gentlemen. Their "Favorites" and "None-suches" and +"Seek-no-farthers," when I have fruited them, commonly turn out very +tame and forgetable. They are eaten with comparatively little zest, and +have no real _tang_ nor _smack_ to them. + +What if some of these wildings are acrid and puckery, genuine +_verjuice_, do they not still belong to the _Pomaceae_, which are +uniformly innocent and kind to our race? I still begrudge them to the +cider-mill. Perhaps they are not fairly ripe yet. + +No wonder that these small and high-colored apples are thought to make +the best cider. Loudon quotes from the "Herefordshire Report," that +"apples of a small size are always, if equal in quality, to be preferred +to those of a larger size, in order that the rind and kernel may bear +the greatest proportion to the pulp, which affords the weakest and +most watery juice." And he says, that, "to prove this, Dr. Symonds, of +Hereford, about the year 1800, made one hogshead of cider entirely from +the rinds and cores of apples, and another from the pulp only, when the +first was found of extraordinary strength and flavor, while the latter +was sweet and insipid." + +Evelyn says that the "Red-strake" was the favorite cider-apple in his +day; and he quotes one Dr. Newburg as saying, "In Jersey 't is a general +observation, as I hear, that the more of red any apple has in its rind, +the more proper it is for this use. Pale-faced apples they exclude as +much as may be from their cider-vat." This opinion still prevails. + +All apples are good in November. Those which the farmer leaves out +as unsalable, and unpalatable to those who frequent the markets, are +choicest fruit to the walker. But it is remarkable that the wild apple, +which I praise as so spirited and racy when eaten in the fields or +woods, being brought into the house, has frequently a harsh and crabbed +taste. The Saunterer's Apple not even the saunterer can eat in the +house. The palate rejects it there, as it does haws and acorns, and +demands a tamed one; for there you miss the November air, which is the +sauce it is to be eaten with. Accordingly, when Tityrus, seeing the +lengthening shadows, invites Melibaeus to go home and pass the night +with him, he promises him _mild_ apples and soft chestnuts,--_mitia +poma, castaneae molles_. I frequently pluck wild apples of so rich and +spicy a flavor that I wonder all orchardists do not get a scion from +that tree, and I fail not to bring home my pockets full. But perchance, +when I take one out of my desk and taste it in my chamber, I find it +unexpectedly crude,--sour enough to set a squirrel's teeth on edge and +make a jay scream. + +These apples have hung in the wind and frost and rain till they have +absorbed the qualities of the weather or season, and thus are highly +_seasoned_, and they _pierce_ and _sting_ and _permeate_ us with +their spirit. They must be eaten in _season_, accordingly,--that is, +out-of-doors. + +To appreciate the wild and sharp flavors of these October fruits, it is +necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air. The +out-door air and exercise which the walker gets give a different tone to +his palate, and he craves a fruit which the sedentary would call harsh +and crabbed. They must be eaten in the fields, when your system is all +aglow with exercise, when the frosty weather nips your fingers, the wind +rattles the bare boughs or rustles the few remaining leaves, and the +jay is heard screaming around. What is sour in the house a bracing walk +makes sweet. Some of these apples might be labelled, "To be eaten in the +wind." + +Of course no flavors are thrown away; they are intended for the taste +that is up to them. Some apples have two distinct flavors, and perhaps +one-half of them must be eaten in the house, the other out-doors. One +Peter Whitney wrote from Northborough in 1782, for the Proceedings of +the Boston Academy, describing an apple-tree in that town "producing +fruit of opposite qualities, part of the same apple being frequently +sour and the other sweet;" also some all sour, and others all sweet, and +this diversity on all parts of the tree. + +There is a wild apple on Nawshawtuct Hill in my town which has to me a +peculiarly pleasant bitter tang, not perceived till it is three-quarters +tasted. It remains on the tongue. As you eat it, it smells exactly like +a squash-bug. It is a sort of triumph to eat and relish it. + +I hear that the fruit of a kind of plum-tree in Provence is "called +_Prunes sibarelles_, because it is impossible to whistle after having +eaten them, from their sourness." But perhaps they were only eaten +in the house and in summer, and if tried out-of-doors in a stinging +atmosphere, who knows but you could whistle an octave higher and +clearer? + +In the fields only are the sours and bitters of Nature appreciated; just +as the wood-chopper eats his meal in a sunny glade, in the middle of +a winter day, with content, basks in a sunny ray there and dreams of +summer in a degree of cold which, experienced in a chamber, would make a +student miserable. They who are at work abroad are not cold, but rather +it is they who sit shivering in houses. As with temperatures, so with +flavors; as with cold and heat, so with sour and sweet. This natural +raciness, the sours and bitters which the diseased palate refuses, are +the true condiments. + +Let your condiments be in the condition of your senses. To appreciate +the flavor of these wild apples requires vigorous and healthy senses, +_papillae_ firm and erect on the tongue and palate, not easily flattened +and tamed. + +From my experience with wild apples, I can understand that there may be +reason for a savage's preferring many kinds of food which the civilized +man rejects. The former has the palate of an out-door man. It takes a +savage or wild taste to appreciate a wild fruit. + +What a healthy out-of-door appetite it takes to relish the apple of +life, the apple of the world, then! + + "Nor is it every apple I desire, + Nor that which pleases every palate best; + 'T is not the lasting Deuxan I require, + Nor yet the red-cheeked Greening I request, + Nor that which first beshrewed the name of + wife, + Nor that whose beauty caused the golden + strife: + No, no! bring me an apple from the tree of + life!" + +So there is one thought for the field, another for the house. I would +have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and will not +warrant them to be palatable, if tasted in the house. + + +THEIR BEAUTY. + + +Almost all wild apples are handsome. They cannot be too gnarly and +crabbed and rusty to look at. The gnarliest will have some redeeming +traits even to the eye. You will discover some evening redness dashed or +sprinkled on some protuberance or in some cavity. It is rare that the +summer lets an apple go without streaking or spotting it on some part of +its sphere. It will have some red stains, commemorating the mornings and +evenings it has witnessed; some dark and rusty blotches, in memory of +the clouds and foggy, mildewy days that have passed over it; and a +spacious field of green reflecting the general face of Nature,--green +even as the fields; or a yellow ground, which implies a milder +flavor,--yellow as the harvest, or russet as the hills. + +Apples, these I mean, unspeakably fair,--apples not of Discord, but +of Concord! Yet not so rare but that the homeliest may have a share. +Painted by the frosts, some a uniform clear bright yellow, or red, or +crimson, as if their spheres had regularly revolved, and enjoyed the +influence of the sun on all sides alike,--some with the faintest pink +blush imaginable,--some brindled with deep red streaks like a cow, +or with hundreds of fine blood-red rays running regularly from +the stem-dimple to the blossom-end, like meridional lines, on a +straw-colored ground,--some touched with a greenish rust, like a fine +lichen, here and there, with crimson blotches or eyes more or less +confluent and fiery when wet,--and others gnarly, and freckled or +peppered all over on the stem side with fine crimson spots on a white +ground, as if accidentally sprinkled from the brush of Him who paints +the autumn leaves. Others, again, are sometimes red inside, perfused +with a beautiful blush, fairy food, too beautiful to eat,--apple of the +Hesperides, apple of the evening sky! But like shells and pebbles on the +sea-shore, they must be seen as they sparkle amid the withering leaves +in some dell in the woods, in the autumnal air, or as they lie in the +wet grass, and not when they have wilted and faded in the house. + + +THE NAMING OF THEM. + + +It would be a pleasant pastime to find suitable names for the hundred +varieties which go to a single heap at the cider-mill. Would it not +tax a man's invention,--no one to be named after a man, and all in the +_lingua vernacula_? Who shall stand godfather at the christening of the +wild apples? It would exhaust the Latin and Greek languages, if they +were used, and make the _lingua vernacula_ flag. We should have to call +in the sunrise and the sunset, the rainbow and the autumn woods and the +wild flowers, and the woodpecker and the purple finch and the squirrel +and the jay and the butterfly, the November traveller and the truant +boy, to our aid. + +In 1836 there were in the garden of the London Horticultural Society +more than fourteen hundred distinct sorts. But here are species which +they have not in their catalogue, not to mention the varieties which our +Crab might yield to cultivation. + +Let us enumerate a few of these. I find myself compelled, after all, to +give the Latin names of some for the benefit of those who live where +English is not spoken,--for they are likely to have a world-wide +reputation. + +There is, first of all, the Wood-Apple (_Malus sylvatica_); the Blue-Jay +Apple; the Apple which grows in Dells in the Woods, (_sylvestrivallis,_) +also in Hollows in Pastures (_campestrivallis_); the Apple that grows +in an old Cellar-Hole (_Malus cellaris_); the Meadow-Apple; the +Partridge-Apple; the Truant's Apple, (_Cessaloris,_) which no boy will +ever go by without knocking off some, however _late_ it may be; the +Saunterer's Apple,--you must lose yourself before you can find the way +to that; the Beauty of the Air (_Decus Aëris_); December-Eating; the +Frozen-Thawed, (_gelato-soluta_) good only in that state; the Concord +Apple, possibly the same with the _Musketaquidensis_; the Assabet Apple; +the Brindled Apple; Wine of New England; the Chickaree Apple; the Green +Apple (_Malus viridis_);--this has many synonymes; in an imperfect +state, it is the _Cholera morbifera aut dysenterifera, puerulis +dilectissima;_--the Apple which Atalanta stopped to pick up; the +Hedge-Apple (_Malus Sepium_); the Slug-Apple (_limacea_); the +Railroad-Apple, which perhaps came from a core thrown out of the cars; +the Apple whose Fruit we tasted in our Youth; our Particular Apple, not +to be found in any catalogue,--_Pedestrium Solatium_; also the Apple +where hangs the Forgotten Scythe; Iduna's Apples, and the Apples which +Loki found in the Wood; and a great many more I have on my list, too +numerous to mention,--all of them good. As Bodaeus exclaims, referring +to the cultivated kinds, and adapting Virgil to his case, so I, adapting +Bodaeus,-- + + "Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, + An iron voice, could I describe all the forms + And reckon up all the names of these _wild apples_." + + +THE LAST GLEANING. + + +By the middle of November the wild apples have lost some of their +brilliancy, and have chiefly fallen. A great part are decayed on the +ground, and the sound ones are more palatable than before. The note +of the chickadee sounds now more distinct, as you wander amid the old +trees, and the autumnal dandelion is half-closed and tearful. But still, +if you are a skilful gleaner, you may get many a pocket-full even of +grafted fruit, long after apples are supposed to be gone out-of-doors. I +know a Blue-Pearmain tree, growing within the edge of a swamp, almost as +good as wild. You would not suppose that there was any fruit left there, +on the first survey, but you must look according to system. Those which +lie exposed are quite brown and rotten now, or perchance a few +still show one blooming cheek here and there amid the wet leaves. +Nevertheless, with experienced eyes, I explore amid the bare alders and +the huckleberry-bushes and the withered sedge, and in the crevices +of the rocks, which are full of leaves, and pry under the fallen and +decaying ferns, which, with apple and alder leaves, thickly strew the +ground. For I know that they lie concealed, fallen into hollows long +since and covered up by the leaves of the tree itself,--a proper kind of +packing. From these lurking-places, anywhere within the circumference of +the tree, I draw forth the fruit, all wet and glossy, maybe nibbled by +rabbits and hollowed out by crickets and perhaps with a leaf or two +cemented to it, (as Curzon an old manuscript from a monastery's mouldy +cellar,) but still with a rich bloom on it, and at least as ripe and +well kept, if not better than those in barrels, more crisp and lively +than they. If these resources fail to yield anything, I have learned to +look between the bases of the suckers which spring thickly from some +horizontal limb, for now and then one lodges there, or in the very midst +of an alder-clump, where they are covered by leaves, safe from cows +which may have smelled them out. If I am sharp-set, for I do not refuse +the Blue-Pearmain, I fill my pockets on each side; and as I retrace my +steps in the frosty eve, being perhaps four or five miles from home, I +eat one first from this side, and then from that, to keep my balance. + +I learn from Topsell's Gesner, whose authority appears to be Albertus, +that the following is the way in which the hedgehog collects and carries +home his apples. He says,--"His meat is apples, worms, or grapes: when +he findeth apples or grapes on the earth, he rolleth himself upon them, +until he have filled all his prickles, and then carrieth them home to +his den, never bearing above one in his mouth; and if it fortune that +one of them fall off by the way, he likewise shaketh off all the +residue, and walloweth upon them afresh, until they be all settled upon +his back again. So, forth he goeth, making a noise like a cart-wheel; +and if he have any young ones in his nest, they pull off his load +wherewithal he is loaded, eating thereof what they please, and laying up +the residue for the time to come." + + +THE "FROZEN-THAWED" APPLE. + + +Toward the end of November, though some of the sound ones are yet more +mellow and perhaps more edible, they have generally, like the leaves, +lost their beauty, and are beginning to freeze. It is finger-cold, and +prudent farmers get in their barrelled apples, and bring you the apples +and cider which they have engaged; for it is time to put them into the +cellar. Perhaps a few on the ground show their red cheeks above the +early snow, and occasionally some even preserve their color and +soundness under the snow throughout the winter. But generally at the +beginning of the winter they freeze hard, and soon, though undecayed, +acquire the color of a baked apple. + +Before the end of December, generally, they experience their first +thawing. Those which a month ago were sour, crabbed, and quite +unpalatable to the civilized taste, such at least as were frozen while +sound, let a warmer sun come to thaw them, for they are extremely +sensitive to its rays, are found to be filled with a rich sweet cider, +better than any bottled cider that I know of, and with which I am better +acquainted than with wine. All apples are good in this state, and your +jaws are the cider-press. Others, which have more substance, are a sweet +and luscious food,--in my opinion of more worth than the pine-apples +which are imported from the West Indies. Those which lately even I +tasted only to repent of it,--for I am semi-civilized,--which the farmer +willingly left on the tree, I am now glad to find have the property of +hanging on like the leaves of the young oaks. It is a way to keep cider +sweet without boiling. Let the frost come to freeze them first, solid as +stones, and then the rain or a warm winter day to thaw them, and they +will seem to have borrowed a flavor from heaven through the medium of +the air in which they hang. Or perchance you find, when you get home, +that those which rattled in your pocket have thawed, and the ice is +turned to cider. But after the third or fourth freezing and thawing they +will not be found so good. + +What are the imported half-ripe fruits of the torrid South, to this +fruit matured by the cold of the frigid North? These are those crabbed +apples with which I cheated my companion, and kept a smooth face that +I might tempt him to eat. Now we both greedily fill our pockets +with them,--bending to drink the cup and save our lappets from the +overflowing juice,--and grow more social with their wine. Was there one +that hung so high and sheltered by the tangled branches that our sticks +could not dislodge it? + +It is a fruit never carried to market, that I am aware of,--quite +distinct from the apple of the markets, as from dried apple and +cider,--and it is not every winter that produces it in perfection. + + * * * * * + +The era of the Wild Apple will soon be past. It is a fruit which will +probably become extinct in New England. You may still wander through old +orchards of native fruit of great extent, which for the most part went +to the cider-mill, now all gone to decay. I have heard of an orchard in +a distant town, on the side of a hill, where the apples rolled down and +lay four feet deep against a wall on the lower side, and this the owner +cut down for fear they should be made into cider. Since the temperance +reform and the general introduction of grafted fruit, no native +apple-trees, such as I see everywhere in deserted pastures, and where +the woods have grown up around them, are set out. I fear that he who +walks over these fields a century hence will not know the pleasure of +knocking off wild apples. Ah, poor man, there are many pleasures which +he will not know! Notwithstanding the prevalence of the Baldwin and the +Porter, I doubt if so extensive orchards are set out to-day in my town +as there were a century ago, when those vast straggling cider-orchards +were planted, when men both ate and drank apples, when the pomace-heap +was the only nursery, and trees cost nothing but the trouble of setting +them out. Men could afford then to stick a tree by every wall-side and +let it take its chance. I see nobody planting trees to-day in such +out-of-the-way places, along the lonely roads and lanes, and at the +bottom of dells in the wood. Now that they have grafted trees, and pay a +price for them, they collect them into a plat by their houses, and fence +them in,--and the end of it all will be that we shall be compelled to +look for our apples in a barrel. + +This is the word of the Lord that came to Joel the son of Pethuel. + +"Hear this, ye old men, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land! +Hath this been in your days, or even in the days of your fathers?... + +"That which the palmer-worm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that +which the locust hath left hath the canker-worm eaten; and that which +the canker-worm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. + +"Awake, ye drunkards, and weep! and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, +because of the new wine! for it is cut off from your mouth. + +"For a nation is come up upon my land, strong, and without number, whose +teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek-teeth of a great +lion. + +"He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree; he hath made it +clean bare, and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.... + +"Be ye ashamed, O ye husbandmen! howl, O ye vine-dressers!... + +"The vine is dried up, and the fig-tree languisheth; the +pomegranate-tree, the palm-tree also, and the apple-tree, even all the +trees of the field, are withered: because joy is withered away from the +sons of men." + + * * * * * + + +LIFE IN THE OPEN AIR. + +BY THE AUTHOR OF "CECIL DREEME" AND "JOHN BRENT." + +KATAHDIN AND THE PENOBSCOT. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MOOSEHEAD. + + +Moosehead Lake is a little bigger than the Lago di Guarda, and +therefore, according to our American standard, rather more important. It +is not very grand, not very picturesque, but considerably better than +no lake,--a meritorious mean; not pretty and shadowy, like a thousand +lakelets all over the land, nor tame, broad, and sham-oceanic, like the +tanks of Niagara. On the west, near its southern end, is a well-intended +blackness and roughness called Squaw Mountain. The rest on that side is +undistinguished pine woods. + +Mount Kinneo is midway up the lake, on the east. It is the show-piece of +the region,--the best they can do for a precipice, and really admirably +done. Kinneo is a solid mass of purple flint rising seven hundred feet +upright from the water. By the side of this block could some Archimedes +appear, armed with a suitable "_pou stô_" and a mallet heavy enough, +he might strike fire to the world. Since percussion-guns and friction +cigar-lighters came in, flint has somewhat lost its value; and Kinneo +is of no practical use at present. We cannot allow inutilities in this +world. Where is the Archimedes? He could make a handsome thing of it by +flashing us off with a spark into a new system of things. + +Below this dangerous cliff on the lake-bank is the Kinneo House, where +fishermen and sportsmen may dwell, and kill or catch, as skill or +fortune favors. The historical success of all catchers and killers is +well balanced, since men who cannot master facts are always men of +imagination, and it is as easy for them to invent as for the other class +to do. Boston men haunt Kinneo. For a hero who has not skill enough or +imagination enough to kill a moose stands rather in Nowhere with Boston +fashion. The tameness of that pleasant little capital makes its belles +ardent for tales of wild adventure. New-York women are less exacting; a +few of them, indeed, like a dash of the adventurous in their lover; but +most of them are business-women, fighting their way out of vulgarity +into style, and romance is an interruption. + +Kinneo was an old station of Iglesias's, in those days when he was +probing New England for the picturesque. When the steamer landed, he +acted as cicerone, and pointed out to me the main object of +interest thereabouts, the dinner-table. We dined with lumbermen and +moose-hunters, scufflingly. + +The moose is the lion of these regions. Near Greenville, a gigantic pair +of moose-horns marks a fork in the road. Thenceforth moose-facts and +moose-legends become the staple of conversation. Moose-meat, combining +the flavor of beefsteak and the white of turtle, appears on the table. +Moose-horns with full explanations, so that the buyer can play the part +of hunter, are for sale. Tame mooselings are exhibited. Sportsmen at +Kinneo can choose a _matinée_ with the trout or a _soirée_ with the +moose. + +The chief fact of a moose's person is that pair of strange excrescences, +his horns. Like fronds of tree-fern, like great corals or sea-fans, +these great palmated plates of bone lift themselves from his head, +grand, useless, clumsy. A pair of moose-horns overlooks me as I write; +they weigh twenty pounds, are nearly five feet in spread, on the right +horn are nine developed and two undeveloped antlers, the plates are +sixteen inches broad,--a doughty head-piece. + +Every year the great, slow-witted animal must renew his head-gear. He +must lose the deformity, his pride, and cultivate another. In spring, +when the first anemone trembles to the vernal breeze, the moose nods +welcome to the wind, and as he nods feels something rattle on his skull. +He nods again, as Homer sometimes did. Lo! something drops. A horn has +dropped, and he stands a bewildered unicorn. For a few days he steers +wild; in this ill-balanced course his lone horn strikes every tree +on this side as he dodges from that side. The unhappy creature is +staggered, body and mind. In what Jericho of the forest can he hide his +diminished head? He flies frantic. He runs amuck through the woods. Days +pass by in gloom, and then comes despair; another horn falls, and he +becomes defenceless; and not till autumn does his brow bear again its +full honors. + +I make no apology for giving a few lines to the great event of a moose's +life. He is the hero of those evergreen-woods,--a hero too little +recognized, except by stealthy assassins, meeting him by midnight for +massacre. No one seems to have viewed him in his dramatic character, as +a forest-monarch enacting every year the tragi-comedy of decoronation +and recoronation. + +The Kinneo House is head-quarters for moose-hunters. This summer the +waters of Maine were diluvial, the feeding-grounds were swamped. Of this +we took little note: we were in chase of something certain not to +be drowned; and the higher the deluge, the easier we could float to +Katahdin. After dinner we took the steamboat again for the upper end of +the lake. + +It was a day of days for sunny summer sailing. Purple haziness curtained +the dark front of Kinneo,--a delicate haze purpled by this black +promontory, but melting blue like a cloud-fall of cloudless sky upon +loftier distant summits. The lake rippled pleasantly, flashing at every +ripple. + +Suddenly, "Katahdin!" said Iglesias. + +Yes, there was a dim point, the object of our pilgrimage. + +Katahdin,--the more I saw of it, the more grateful I was to the three +powers who enabled me to see it: to Nature for building it, to Iglesias +for guiding me to it, to myself for going. + +We sat upon the deck and let Katahdin grow,--and sitting, talked of +mountains, somewhat to this effect:-- + +Mountains are the best things to be seen. Within the keen outline of a +great peak is packed more of distance, of detail, of light and shade, of +color, of all the qualities of space, than vision can get in any other +way. No one who has not seen mountains knows how far the eye can reach. +Level horizons are within cannon-shot. Mountain horizons not only may be +a hundred miles away, but they lift up a hundred miles at length, to be +seen at a look. Mountains make a background against which blue sky +can be seen; between them and the eye are so many miles of visible +atmosphere, domesticated, brought down to the regions of earth, not +resting overhead, a vagueness and a void. Air, blue in full daylight, +rose and violet at sunset, gray like powdered starlight by night, is +collected and isolated by a mountain, so that the eye can comprehend it +in nearer acquaintance. There is nothing so refined as the outline of +a distant mountain: even a rose-leaf is stiff-edged and harsh in +comparison. Nothing else has that definite indefiniteness, that melting +permanence, that evanescing changelessness. Clouds in vain strive to +imitate it; they are made of slighter stuff; they can be blunt or +ragged, but they cannot have that solid positiveness. + +Mountains, too, are very stationary,--always at their post. They are +characters of dignity, not without noble changes of mood; but these +changes are not bewildering, capricious shifts. A mountain can be +studied like a picture; its majesty, its grace can be got by heart. +Purple precipice, blue pyramid, cone or dome of snow, it is a simple +image and a positive thought. It is a delicate fact, first, of +beauty,--then, as you approach, a strong fact of majesty and power. +But even in its cloudy, distant fairness there is a concise, emphatic +reality altogether uncloudlike. + +Manly men need the wilderness and the mountain. Katahdin is the best +mountain in the wildest wild to be had on this side the continent. He +looked at us encouragingly over the hills. I saw that he was all that +Iglesias, connoisseur of mountains, had promised, and was content to +wait for the day of meeting. + +The steamboat dumped us and our canoe on a wharf at the lake-head about +four o'clock. A wharf promised a settlement, which, however, did not +exist. There was population,--one man and one great ox. Following the +inland-pointing nose of the ox, we saw, penetrating the forest, a wooden +railroad. Ox-locomotive, and no other, befitted such rails. The train +was one great go-cart. We packed our traps upon it, roofed them with our +birch, and, without much ceremony of whistling, moved on. As we started, +so did the steamboat. The link between us and the inhabited world grew +more and more attenuated. Finally it snapped, and we were in the actual +wilderness. + +I am sorry to chronicle that Iglesias hereupon turned to the ox and said +impatiently,-- + +"Now, then, bullgine!" + +Why a railroad, even a wooden one, here? For this: the Penobscot at this +point approaches within two and a half miles of Moosehead Lake, and over +this portage supplies are taken conveniently for the lumbermen of an +extensive lumbering country above, along the river. + +Corduroy railroad, ox-locomotive, and go-cart train up in the pine woods +were a novelty and a privilege. Our cloven-hoofed engine did not whirr +turbulently along, like a thing of wheels. Slow and sure must the +knock-kneed chewer of cuds step from log to log. Creakingly the wain +followed him, pausing and starting and pausing again with groans of +inertia. A very fat ox was this, protesting every moment against his +employment, where speed, his duty, and sloth, his nature, kept him +bewildered by their rival injunctions. Whenever the engine-driver +stopped to pick a huckleberry, the train, self-braking, stopped also, +and the engine took in fuel from the tall grass that grew between the +sleepers. It was the sensation of sloth at its uttermost. + +Iglesias and I, meanwhile, marched along and shot the game of the +country, namely, one _Tetrao Canadensis_, one spruce-partridge, making +in all one bird, quite too pretty to shoot with its red and black +plumage. The spruce-partridge is rather rare in inhabited Maine, and +is malignantly accused of being bitter in flesh, and of feeding on +spruce-buds to make itself distasteful. Our bird we found sweetly +berry-fed. The bitterness, if any, was that we had not a brace. + +So, at last, in an hour, after shooting one bird and swallowing six +million berries, for the railroad was a shaft into a mine of them, we +came to the terminus. The chewer of cuds was disconnected, and plodded +off to his stable. The go-cart slid down an inclined plane to the river, +the Penobscot. + +We paid quite freely for our brief monopoly of the railroad to the +superintendent, engineer, stoker, poker, switch-tender, brakeman, +baggage-master, and every other official in one. But who would grudge +his tribute to the enterprise that opened this narrow vista through +toward the Hyperboreans, and planted these once not crumbling sleepers +and once not rickety rails, to save the passenger a portage? Here, +at Bullgineville, the pluralist railroad-manager had his cabin and +clearing, ox-engine house and warehouse. + +To balance these symbols of advance, we found a station of the +rear-guard of another army. An Indian party of two was encamped on the +bank. The fusty sagamore of this pair was lying wounded; his fusty squaw +tended him tenderly, minding, meanwhile, a very witch-like caldron +of savory fume. No skirmish, with actual war-whoop and sheen of real +scalping-knife, had put this prostrate chieftain here _hors du combat_. +He had shot himself cruelly by accident. So he informed us feebly, in a +muddy, guttural _patois_ of Canadian French. This aboriginal meeting was +of great value; it helped to eliminate the railroad. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +PENOBSCOT. + + +It was now five o'clock of an August evening. Our work-day was properly +done. But we were to camp somewhere, "anywhere out of the world" of +railroads. The Penobscot glimmered winningly. Our birch looked wistful +for its own element. Why not marry shallop to stream? Why not yield +to the enticement of this current, fleet and clear, and gain a few +beautiful miles before nightfall? All the world was before us where to +choose our bivouac. We dismounted our birch from the truck, and laid its +lightness upon the stream. Then we became stevedores, stowing cargo. +Sheets of birch-bark served for dunnage. Cancut, in flamboyant shirt, +ballasted the after-part of the craft. For the present, I, in flamboyant +shirt, paddled in the bow, while Iglesias, similarly glowing, sat _à +la Turque_ midships among the traps. Then, with a longing sniff at the +caldron of Soggysampcook, we launched upon the Penobscot. + +Upon no sweeter stream was voyager ever launched than this of our +summer-evening sail. There was no worse haste in its more speed; it +went fleetly lingering along its leafy dell. Its current, unripplingly +smooth, but dimpled ever, and wrinkled with the whirls that mark an +underflow deep and shady, bore on our bark. The banks were low and +gently wooded. No Northern forest, rude and gloomy with pines, stood +stiffly and unsympathizingly watching the graceful water, but cheerful +groves and delicate coppices opened in vistas where level sunlight +streamed, and barred the river with light, between belts of lightsome +shadow. We felt no breeze, but knew of one, keeping pace with us, by a +tremor in the birches as it shook them. On we drifted, mile after mile, +languidly over sweet calms. One would seize his paddle, and make our +canoe quiver for a few spasmodic moments. But it seemed needless and +impertinent to toil, when noiselessly and without any show of energy the +water was bearing us on, over rich reflections of illumined cloud and +blue sky, and shadows of feathery birches, bearing us on so quietly that +our passage did not shatter any fair image, but only drew it out upon +the tremors of the water. + +So, placid and beautiful as an interview of first love, went on our +first meeting with this Northern river. But water, the feminine element, +is so mobile and impressible that it must protect itself by much that +seems caprice and fickleness. We might be sure that the Penobscot would +not always flow so gently, nor all the way from forests to the sea +conduct our bark without one shiver of panic, where rapids broke noisy +and foaming over rocks that showed their grinding teeth at us. + +Sunset now streamed after us down the river. The arbor-vitae along the +banks marked tracery more delicate than any ever wrought by deftest +craftsman in western window of an antique fane. Brighter and richer than +any tints that ever poured through painted oriel flowed the glories of +sunset. Dear, pensive glooms of nightfall drooped from the zenith slowly +down, narrowing twilight to a belt of dying flame. We were aware of the +ever fresh surprise of starlight: the young stars were born again. + +Sweet is the charm of starlit sailing where no danger is. And in days +when the Munki Mannakens were foes of the pale-face, one might dash down +rapids by night in the hurry of escape. Now the danger was before, not +pursuing. We must camp before we were hurried into the first "rips" +of the stream, and before night made bush-ranging and camp-duties +difficult. + +But these beautiful thickets of birch and alder along the bank, how to +get through them? We must spy out an entrance. Spots lovely and damp, +circles of ferny grass beneath elms offered themselves. At last, as to +patience always, appeared the place of wisest choice. A little stream, +the Ragmuff, entered the Penobscot. "Why Ragmuff?" thought we, insulted. +Just below its mouth two spruces were _propylaea_ to a little glade, our +very spot. We landed. Some hunters had once been there. A skeleton lodge +and frame of poles for drying moose-hides remained. + +Like skilful campaigners, we at once distributed ourselves over our +work. Cancut wielded the axe; I the match-box; Iglesias the _batterie de +cuisine_. Ragmuff drifted one troutling and sundry chubby chub down +to nip our hooks. We re-roofed our camp with its old covering of +hemlock-bark, spreading over a light tent-cover we had provided. The +last glow of twilight dulled away; monitory mists hid the stars. + +Iglesias, as _chef_, with his two _marmitons_, had, meanwhile, been +preparing supper. It was dark when he, the colorist, saw that fire with +delicate touches of its fine brushes had painted all our viands to +perfection. Then, with the same fire stirred to illumination, and +dashing masterly glows upon landscape and figures, the trio partook of +the supper and named it sublime. + +Here follows the _carte_ of the Restaurant Ragmuff,--woodland fare, a +banquet simple, but elegant:-- + + POISSON. + + Truite. Meunier. + + ENTRÉES. + + Porc frit au naturel. + Côtelettes d'Élan. + + RÔTI. + + Tetrao Canadensis + + DESSERT + + Hard-Tack. Fromage. + + VINS. + + Ragmuff blanc. Penobscot mousseux. + Thé. Chocolat de Bogotá. + Petit verre de Cognac. + +At that time I had a temporary quarrel with the frantic nineteenth +century's best friend, tobacco,--and Iglesias, being totally at peace +with himself and the world, never needs anodynes. Cancut, therefore, was +the only cloud-blower. + +We two solaced ourselves with scorning civilization from our +vantage-ground. We were beyond fences, away from the clash of +town-clocks, the clink of town-dollars, the hiss of town-scandals. As +soon as one is fairly in camp and has begun to eat with his fingers, +he is free. He and truth are at the bottom of a well,--a hollow, +fire-lighted cylinder of forest. While the manly man of the woods is +breathing Nature like an Amreeta draught, is it anything less than the +_summum bonum_? + +"Yet some call American life dull." + +"Ay, to dullards!" ejaculated Iglesias. + +Moose were said to haunt these regions. Toward midnight our would-be +moose-hunter paddled about up and down, seeking them and finding not. +The waters were too high. Lily-pads were drowned. There were no moose +looming duskily in the shallows, to be done to death at their banquet. +They were up in the pathless woods, browsing on leaves and deappetizing +with bitter bark. Starlight paddling over reflected stars was +enchanting, but somniferous. We gave up our vain quest and glided softly +home,--already we called it home,--toward the faint embers of our fire. +Then all slept, as only wood-men sleep, save when for moments Cancut's +trumpet-tones sounded alarums, and we others awoke to punch and batter +the snorer into silence. + +In due time, bird and cricket whistled and chirped the reveille. We +sprang from our lair. We dipped in the river and let its gentle friction +polish us more luxuriously than ever did any hair-gloved polisher of +an Oriental bath. Our joints crackled for themselves as we beat the +current. From bath like this comes no unmanly kief, no sensuous, +slumberous, dreamy indifference, but a nervous, intent, keen, joyous +activity. A day of deeds is before us, and we would be doing. + +When we issue from the Penobscot, from our baptism into a new life, we +need no valet for elaborate toilet. Attire is simple, when the woods are +the tiring-room. + +When we had taken off the water and put on our clothes, we +simultaneously thought of breakfast. Like a circle of wolves around the +bones of a banquet, the embers of our fire were watching each other over +the ashes; we had but to knock their heads together and fiery fighting +began. The skirmish of the brands boiled our coffee and fried our pork, +and we embarked and shoved off. A thin blue smoke, floating upward, for +an hour or two, marked our bivouac; soon this had gone out, and the +banks and braes of Ragmuff were lonely as if never a biped had trodden +them. Nature drops back to solitude as easily as man to peace;--how +little this fair globe would miss mankind! + +The Penobscot was all asteam with morning mist. It was blinding the sun +with a matinal oblation of incense. A crew of the profane should not +interfere with such act of worship. Sacrilege is perilous, whoever be +the God. We were instantly punished for irreverence. The first "rips" +came up-stream under cover of the mist, and took us by surprise. As we +were paddling along gently, we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of +a boiling rapid. Gnashing rocks, with cruel foam upon their lips, sprang +out of the obscure, eager to tear us. Great jaws of ugly blackness +snapped about us as if we were introduced into a coterie of crocodiles. +Symplegades clanged together behind; mighty gulfs, below seducing bends +of smooth water, awaited us before. We were in for it. We spun, whizzed, +dashed, leaped, "cavorted;" we did whatever a birch running the gantlet +of whirlpools and breakers may do, except the fatal finality of a +somerset. That we escaped, and only escaped. We had been only reckless, +not audacious; and therefore peril, not punishment, befell us. The rocks +smote our frail shallop; they did not crush it. Foam and spray dashed in +our faces; solid fluid below the crest did not overwhelm us. There we +were, presently, in water tumultuous, but not frantic. There we were, +three men floating in a birch, not floundering in a maelstrom,--on the +water, not under it,--sprinkled, not drowned,--and in a wild wonder how +we got into it and how we got out of it. + +Cancut's paddle guided us through. Unwieldy he may have been in person, +but he could wield his weapon well. And so, by luck and skill, we were +not drowned in the magnificent uproar of the rapid. Success, that +strange stirabout of Providence, accident, and courage, were ours. But +when we came to the next cascading bit, though the mist had now lifted, +we lightened the canoe by two men's avoir-dupois, that it might dance, +and not blunder heavily, might seek the safe shallows, away from the +dangerous bursts of mid-current, and choose passages where Cancut, with +the setting-pole, could let it gently down. So Iglesias and I plunged +through the labyrinthine woods, the stream along. + +Not long after our little episode of buffeting, we shot out again upon +smooth water, and soon, for it is never smooth but it is smoothest, upon +a lake, Chesuncook. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CHESUNCOOK. + + +Chesuncook is a "bulge" of the Penobscot: so much for its topography. It +is deep in the woods, except that some miles from its opening there is +a lumbering-station, with house and barns. In the wilderness, man makes +for man by a necessity of human instinct. We made for the log-houses. +We found there an ex-barkeeper of a certain well-known New-York cockney +coffee-house, promoted into a frontiersman, but mindful still of +flesh-pots. Poor fellow, he was still prouder that he had once tossed +the foaming cocktail than that he could now fell the forest-monarch. +Mixed drinks were dearer to him than pure air. When we entered the long, +low log-cabin, he was boiling doughnuts, as was to be expected. In +certain regions of America every cook who is not baking pork and beans +is boiling doughnuts, just as in certain other gastronomic quarters +_frijoles_ alternate with _tortillas_. + +Doughnuts, like peaches, must be eaten with the dew upon them. Caught as +they come bobbing up in the bubbling pot, I will not say that they are +despicable. Woodsmen and canoemen, competent to pork and beans, can +master also the alternative. The ex-barkeeper was generous with these +brown and glistening langrage-shot, and aimed volley after volley at our +mouths. Nor was he content with giving us our personal fill; into every +crevice of our firkin he packed a pellet of future indigestion. Besides +this result of foraging, we took the hint from a visible cow that milk +might be had. Of this also the ex-barkeeper served us out galore, +sighing that it was not the punch of his metropolitan days. We put our +milk in our tea-pot, and thus, with all the ravages of the past made +good, we launched again upon Chesuncook. + +Chesuncook, according to its quality of lake, had no aid to give us with +current. Paddling all a hot August mid-day over slothful water would +be tame, day-laborer's work. But there was a breeze. Good! Come, kind +Zephyr, fill our red blanket-sail! Cancut's blanket in the bow became a +substitute for Cancut's paddle in the stern. We swept along before the +wind, unsteadily, over Lake Chesuncook, at sea in a bowl,--"rolled to +starboard, rolled to larboard," in our keelless craft. Zephyr only +followed us, mild as he was strong, and strong as he was mild. Had he +been puffy, it would have been all over with us. But the breeze only +sang about our way, and shook the water out of sunny calm. Katahdin to +the North, a fair blue pyramid, lifted higher and stooped forward +more imminent, yet still so many leagues away that his features were +undefined, and the gray of his scalp undistinguishable from the green of +his beard of forest. Every mile, however, as we slid drowsily over the +hot lake, proved more and more that we were not befooled,--Iglesias by +memory, and I by anticipation. Katahdin lost nothing by approach, as +some of the grandees do: as it grew bigger, it grew better. + +Twenty miles, or so, of Chesuncook, of sun-cooked Chesuncook, we +traversed by the aid of our blanket-sail, pleasantly wafted by the +unboisterous breeze. Undrowned, unducked, as safe from the perils of the +broad lake as we had come out of the defiles of the rapids, we landed at +the carry below the dam at the lake's outlet. + +The skin of many a slaughtered varmint was nailed on its shingle, and +the landing-place was carpeted with the fur. Doughnuts, ex-barkeepers, +and civilization at one end of the lake, and here were muskrat-skins, +trappers, and the primeval. Two hunters of moose, in default of their +fern-horned, blubber-lipped game, had condescended to muskrat, and were +making the lower end of Chesuncook fragrant with muskiness. + +It is surprising how hospitable and comrade a creature is man. The +trappers of muskrats were charmingly brotherly. They guided us across +the carry; they would not hear of our being porters. "Pluck the +superabundant huckleberry," said they, "while we, suspending your firkin +and your traps upon the setting-pole, tote them, as the spies of Joshua +toted the grape-clusters of the Promised Land." + +Cancut, for his share, carried the canoe. He wore it upon his head and +shoulders. Tough work he found it, toiling through the underwood, and +poking his way like an elongated and mobile mushroom through the thick +shrubbery. Ever and anon, as Iglesias and I paused, we would be aware of +the canoe thrusting itself above our heads in the covert, and a voice +would come from an unseen head under its shell,--"It's soul-breaking, +carrying is!" + +The portage was short. We emerged from the birchen grove upon the river, +below a brilliant cascading rapid. The water came flashing gloriously +forward, a far other element than the tame, flat stuff we had drifted +slowly over all the dullish hours. Water on the go is nobler than water +on the stand; recklessness may be as fatal as stagnation, but it is more +heroic. + +Presently, over the edge, where the foam and spray were springing up +into sunshine, our canoe suddenly appeared, and had hardly appeared, +when, as if by one leap, it had passed the rapid, and was gliding in the +stiller current at our feet. One of the muskrateers had relieved Cancut +of his head-piece, and shot the lower rush of water. We again embarked, +and, guided by the trappers in their own canoe, paddled out upon Lake +Pepogenus. + + + + +LOUIS LEBEAU'S CONVERSION. + + + Yesterday, while I moved with the languid crowd on the Riva, + Musing with idle eyes on the wide lagoons and the islands, + And on the dim-seen seaward glimmering sails in the distance, + Where the azure haze, like a vision of Indian-Summer, + Haunted the dreamy sky of the soft Venetian December,-- + While I moved unwilled in the mellow warmth of the weather, + Breathing air that was full of Old-World sadness and beauty, + Into my thought came this story of free, wild life in Ohio, + When the land was new, and yet by the Beautiful River + Dwelt the pioneers and Indian hunters and boatmen. + + Pealed from the campanile, responding from island to island, + Bells of that ancient faith whose incense and solemn devotions + Rise from a hundred shrines in the broken heart of the city; + But in my reverie heard I only the passionate voices + Of the people that sang in the virgin heart of the forest. + Autumn was in the land, and the trees were golden and crimson, + And from the luminous boughs of the over-elms and the maples + Tender and beautiful fell the light in the worshippers' faces, + Softer than lights that stream through the saints on the windows of + churches, + While the balsamy breath of the hemlocks and pines by the river + Stole on the winds through the woodland aisles like the breath of a + censer. + Loud the people sang old camp-meeting anthems that quaver + Quaintly yet from lips forgetful of lips that have kissed them: + Loud they sang the songs of the Sacrifice and Atonement, + And of the end of the world, and the infinite terrors of Judgment; + Songs of ineffable sorrow, and wailing compassionate warning + For the generations that hardened their hearts to their Saviour; + Songs of exultant rapture for them that confessed Him and followed, + Bearing His burden and yoke, enduring and entering with Him + Into the rest of His saints, and the endless reward of the blessed. + Loud the people sang: but through the sound of their singing + Brake inarticulate cries and moans and sobs from the mourners, + As the glory of God, that smote the apostle of Tarsus, + Smote them and strewed them to earth like leaves in the breath of the + whirlwind. + + Hushed at last was the sound of the lamentation and singing; + But from the distant hill the throbbing drum of the pheasant + Shook with its heavy pulses the depths of the listening silence, + When from his place arose a white-haired exhorter and faltered: + "Brethren and sisters in Jesus! the Lord hath heard our petitions, + And the hearts of His servants are awed and melted within them,-- + Even the hearts of the wicked are touched by His infinite mercy. + All my days in this vale of tears the Lord hath been with me, + He hath been good to me, He hath granted me trials and patience; + But this hour hath crowned my knowledge of Him and His goodness. + Truly, but that it is well this day for me to be with you, + Now might I say to the Lord,--'I know Thee, my God, in all fulness; + Now let Thy servant depart in peace to the rest Thou hast promised!'" + + Faltered and ceased. And now the wild and jubilant music + Of the singing burst from the solemn profound of the silence, + Surged in triumph and fell, and ebbed again into silence. + + Then from the group of the preachers arose the greatest among them,-- + He whose days were given in youth to the praise of the Saviour,-- + He whose lips seemed touched like the prophet's of old from the altar, + So that his words were flame, and burned to the hearts of his hearers, + Quickening the dead among them, reviving the cold and the doubting. + There he charged them pray, and rest not from prayer while a sinner + In the sound of their voices denied the Friend of the sinner: + "Pray till the night shall fall,--till the stars are faint in the + morning,-- + Yea, till the sun himself be faint in that glory and brightness, + In that light which shall dawn in mercy for penitent sinners." + Kneeling, he led them in prayer, and the quick and sobbing responses + Spake how their souls were moved with the might and the grace of the + Spirit. + Then while the converts recounted how God had chastened and saved + them,-- + Children whose golden locks yet shone with the lingering effulgence + Of the touches of Him who blessed little children forever,-- + Old men whose yearning eyes were dimmed with the far-streaming + brightness + Seen through the opening gates in the heart of the heavenly city,-- + Stealthily through the harking woods the lengthening shadows + Chased the wild things to their nests, and the twilight died into + darkness. + + Now the four great pyres that were placed there to light the encampment, + High on platforms raised above the people, were kindled. + Flaming aloof, as if from the pillar by night in the Desert, + Fell their crimson light on the lifted orbs of the preachers, + On the withered brows of the old men, and Israel's mothers, + On the bloom of youth, and the earnest devotion of manhood, + On the anguish and hope in the tearful eyes of the mourners. + Flaming aloof, it stirred the sleep of the luminous maples + With warm summer-dreams, and faint, luxurious languor. + Near the four great pyres the people closed in a circle, + In their midst the mourners, and, praying with them, the exhorters, + And on the skirts of the circle the unrepentant and scorners,-- + Ever fewer and sadder, and drawn to the place of the mourners, + One after one, by the prayers and tears of the brethren and sisters, + And by the Spirit of God, that was mightily striving within them, + Till at the last alone stood Louis Lebeau, unconverted. + + Louis Lebeau, the boatman, the trapper, the hunter, the fighter, + From the unlucky French of Gallipolis he descended, + Heir to Old-World want and New-World love of adventure. + Vague was the life he led, and vague and grotesque were the rumors + Wherethrough he loomed on the people, the hero of mythical hearsay,-- + Quick of hand and of heart, _insouciant_, generous, Western,-- + Taking the thought of the young in secret love and in envy. + Not less the elders shook their heads and held him for outcast, + Reprobate, roving, ungodly, infidel, worse than a Papist, + With his whispered fame of lawless exploits at St. Louis, + Wild affrays and loves with the half-breeds out on the Osage, + Brawls at New-Orleans, and all the towns on the rivers, + All the godless towns of the many-ruffianed rivers. + Only she that loved him the best of all, in her loving, + Knew him the best of all, and other than that of the rumors. + Daily she prayed for him, with conscious and tender effusion, + That the Lord would convert him. But when her father forbade him + Unto her thought, she denied him, and likewise held him for outcast, + Turned her eyes when they met, and would not speak, though her heart + broke. + + Bitter and brief his logic that reasoned from wrong unto error: + "This is their praying and singing," he said, "that makes you reject + me,-- + You that were kind to me once. But I think my fathers' religion, + With a light heart in the breast, and a friendly priest to absolve one, + Better than all these conversions that only bewilder and vex me, + And that have made man so hard and woman fickle and cruel. + Well, then, pray for my soul, since you would not have spoken to save + me,-- + Yes,--for I go from these saints to my brethren and sisters, the + sinners." + Spake and went, while her faint lips fashioned unuttered entreaties,-- + Went, and came again in a year at the time of the meeting, + Haggard and wan of face, and wasted with passion and sorrow. + Dead in his eyes was the careless smile of old, and its phantom + Haunted his lips in a sneer of restless incredulous mocking. + Day by day he came to the outer skirts of the circle, + Dwelling on her, where she knelt by the white-haired exhorter, her + father, + With his hollow looks, and never moved from his silence. + + Now, where he stood alone, the last of impenitent sinners, + Weeping, old friends and comrades came to him out of the circle, + And with their tears besought him to hear what the Lord had done for + them. + Ever he shook them off, not roughly, nor smiled at their transports. + Then the preachers spake and painted the terrors of Judgment, + And of the bottomless pit, and the flames of hell everlasting. + Still and dark he stood, and neither listened nor heeded: + But when the fervent voice of the while-haired exhorter was lifted, + Fell his brows in a scowl of fierce and scornful rejection. + "Lord, let this soul be saved!" cried the fervent voice of the old man; + "For that the shepherd rejoiceth more truly for one that hath wandered, + And hath been found again, than for all the others that strayed not." + + Out of the midst of the people, a woman old and decrepit, + Tremulous through the light, and tremulous into the shadow, + Wavered toward him with slow, uncertain paces of palsy, + Laid her quivering hand on his arm and brokenly prayed him: + "Louis Lebeau, I closed in death the eyes of your mother. + On my breast she died, in prayer for her fatherless children, + That they might know the Lord, and follow Him always, and serve Him. + Oh, I conjure you, my son, by the name of your mother in glory, + Scorn not the grace of the Lord!" As when a summer-noon's tempest + Breaks in one swift gush of rain, then ceases and gathers + Darker and gloomier yet on the lowering front of the heavens, + So brake his mood in tears, as he soothed her, and stilled her + entreaties, + And so he turned again with his clouded looks to the people. + + Vibrated then from the hush the accents of mournfullest pity,-- + His who was gifted in speech, and the glow of the fires illumined + All his pallid aspect with sudden and marvellous splendor: + "Louis Lebeau," he spake, "I have known you and loved you from + childhood; + Still, when the others blamed you, I took your part, for I knew you. + Louis Lebeau, my brother, I thought to meet you in heaven, + Hand in hand with her who is gone to heaven before us, + Brothers through her dear love! I trusted to greet you and lead you + Up from the brink of the River unto the gates of the City. + Lo! my years shall be few on the earth. Oh, my brother, + If I should die before you had known the mercy of Jesus, + Yea, I think it would sadden the hope of glory within me!" + + Neither yet had the will of the sinner yielded an answer; + But from his lips there broke a cry of unspeakable anguish, + Wild and fierce and shrill, as if some demon within him + Rent his soul with the ultimate pangs of fiendish possession, + And with the outstretched arms of bewildered imploring toward them, + Death-white unto the people he turned his face from the darkness. + + Out of the sedge by the creek a flight of clamorous killdees + Rose from their timorous sleep with piercing and iterant challenge, + Wheeled in the starlight and fled away into distance and silence. + White on the other hand lay the tents, and beyond them glided the river, + Where the broadhorn[A] drifted slow at the will of the current, + And where the boatman listened, and knew not how, as he listened, + Something touched through the years the old lost hopes of his + childhood,-- + Only his sense was filled with low monotonous murmurs, + As of a faint-heard prayer, that was chorused with deeper responses. + + [Footnote A: The old-fashioned flat-boats were so called.] + + Not with the rest was lifted her voice in the fervent responses, + But in her soul she prayed to Him that heareth in secret, + Asking for light and for strength to learn His will and to do it: + "Oh, make me clear to know, if the hope that rises within me + Be not part of a love unmeet for me here, and forbidden! + So, if it be not that, make me strong for the evil entreaty + Of the days that shall bring me question of self and reproaches, + When the unrighteous shall mock, and my brethren and sisters shall + doubt me! + Make me worthy to know Thy will, my Saviour, and do it!" + In her pain she prayed, and at last, through her mute adoration, + Rapt from all mortal presence, and in her rapture uplifted, + Glorified she rose, and stood in the midst of the people, + Looking on all with the still, unseeing eyes of devotion, + Vague, and tender, and sweet, as the eyes of the dead, when we dream + them + Living and looking on us, but they cannot speak, and we cannot: + Knowing only the peril that threatened his soul's unrepentance, + Knowing only the fear and error and wrong that withheld him, + Thinking, "In doubt of me, his soul had perished forever!" + Touched with no feeble shame, but trusting her power to save him, + Through the circle she passed, and straight to the side of her lover,-- + Took his hand in her own, and mutely implored him an instant, + Answering, giving, forgiving, confessing, beseeching him all things,-- + Drew him then with her, and passed once more through the circle + Unto her place, and knelt with him there by the side of her father, + Trembling as women tremble who greatly venture and triumph,-- + But in her innocent breast was the saint's sublime exultation. + + So was Louis converted; and though the lips of the scorner + Spared not in after-years the subtle taunt and derision, + (What time, meeker grown, his heart held his hand from its answer,) + Not the less lofty and pure her love and her faith that had saved him, + Not the less now discerned was her inspiration from heaven + By the people, that rose, and embracing, and weeping together, + Poured forth their jubilant songs of victory and of thanksgiving, + Till from the embers leaped the dying flame to behold them, + And the hills of the river were filled with reverberant echoes,-- + Echoes that out of the years and the distance stole to me hither, + While I moved unwilled in the mellow warmth of the weather,-- + Echoes that mingled and fainted and fell with the fluttering murmurs + In the hearts of the hushing bells, as from island to island + Swooned the sound on the wide lagoons into palpitant silence. + + * * * * * + + +THE DEVELOPMENT AND OVERTHROW OF THE RUSSIAN SERF-SYSTEM. + + +Close upon the end of the fifteenth century, the Muscovite ideas +of Right were subjected to the strong mind of Ivan the Great, and +compressed into a code. + +Therein were embodied the best processes known to his land and time: for +discovering crime, torture and trial by battle; for punishing crime, the +knout and death. + +But hidden in this tough mass was one law of greater import than all +others. Thereby were all peasants forbidden to leave the lands they +were then tilling, except during the eight days before and after Saint +George's day. This provision sprang from Ivan's highest views of justice +and broadest views of political economy; the nobles received it with +plaudits, which have found echoes even in these days;[A] the peasants +received it with no murmurs which History has found any trouble in +drowning. + +[Footnote A: See Gerebtzoff, _Histoire de la Civilisation en Russie_.] + +Just one hundred years later, there sat upon the Muscovite throne, as +_nominal_ Tzar, the weakling Feodor I.; but behind the throne stood, as +_real_ Tzar, hard, strong Boris Godounoff. + +Looking forward to Feodor's death, Boris makes ready to mount the +throne; and he sees--what all other "Mayors of the Palace," climbing +into the places of _fainéant_ kings, have seen--that he must link to +his fortunes the fortunes of some strong body in the nation; he breaks, +however, from the general rule among usurpers,--bribing the Church,--and +determines to bribe the nobility. + +The greatest grief of the Muscovite nobles seemed to be that the +peasants could escape from their oppression by the emigration allowed at +Saint George's day. + +Boris saw his opportunity: he cut off the privilege of Saint George's +day; the peasant was fixed to the soil forever. No Russian law ever +_directly_ enslaved the peasantry,[B] but, through this decree of Boris, +the lord who owned the soil came to own the peasants upon it, just as he +owned its immovable boulders and ledges. + +[Footnote B: Haxthausen.] + +To this the peasants submitted, but over this wrong History has not +been able to drown their sighs; their proverbs and ballads make Saint +George's day representative of all ill-luck and disappointment. + +A few years later, Boris made another bid for oligarchic favor. He +issued a rigorous fugitive-serf law, and even wrenched liberty from +certain free peasants who had entered service for wages before his +edicts. This completed the work, and Russia, which never had the +benefits of feudalism, had now fastened upon her feudalism's worst +curse,--a serf-caste bound to the glebe. + +The great waves of wrong which bore serfage into Russia seem to have +moved with a kind of tidal regularity, and the distance between their +crests in those earlier times appears to have been just a hundred +years,--for, again, at the end of the next century, surge over the +nation the ideas of Peter the Great. + +The great good things done by Peter the world knows by heart. The world +knows well how he tore his way out of the fetichism of his time,--how, +despite ignorance and unreason, he dragged his nation after him,--how he +dowered the nation with things and thoughts which transformed it from a +petty Asiatic horde to a great European power. + +And the praise due to this work can never be diminished. Time shall +but increase it; for the world has yet to learn most of the wonderful +details of his activity. We were present a few years since, when one of +those lesser triumphs of his genius was first unfolded. + +It was in that room at the Hermitage--adjoining the Winter Palace--set +apart for the relics of Peter. Our companions were two men noted as +leaders in American industry,--one famed as an inventor, the other famed +as a champion of inventors' rights. + +Suddenly from the inventor,[C] pulling over some old dust-covered +machines in a corner, came loud cries of surprise. The cries were +natural indeed. In that heap of rubbish he had found a lathe for turning +irregular forms, and a screw-cutting engine once used by Peter himself: +specimens of his unfinished work were still in them. They had lain there +unheeded a hundred and fifty years; their principle had died with Peter +and his workmen; and not many years since, they were reinvented in +America, and gave their inventors fame and fortune. At the late Paris +Universal Exposition crowds flocked about an American lathe for copying +statuary; and that lathe was, in principle, identical with this old, +forgotten machine of Peter's. + +[Footnote C: The late Samuel Colt.] + +Yet, though Peter fought so well, and thought so well, he made some +mistakes which hang to this day over his country as bitter curses. For +in all his plan and work to advance the mass of men was one supreme +lack,--lack of any account of the worth and right of the individual man. + +Lesser examples of this are seen in his grim jest at Westminster +Hall,--"What use of so many lawyers? I have but two lawyers in Russia, +and one of those I mean to hang as soon as I return;"--or when, at +Berlin, having been shown a new gibbet, he ordered one of his +servants to be hanged in order to test it;--or, in his reviews and +parade-fights, when he ordered his men to use ball, and to take the +buttons off their bayonets. + +Greater examples are seen in his Battle of Narva, when he threw away an +army to learn his opponent's game,--in his building of St. Petersburg, +where, in draining marshes, he sacrificed a hundred thousand men the +first year. + +But the greatest proof of this great lack was shown in his dealings with +the serf-system. + +Serfage was already recognized in Peter's time as an evil. Peter himself +once stormed forth in protestations and invectives against what he +stigmatized as "selling men like beasts,--separating parents from +children, husbands from wives,--which takes place nowhere else in the +world, and which causes many tears to flow." He declared that a law +should be made against it. Yet it was by his misguided hand that serfage +was compacted into its final black mass of foulness. + +For Peter saw other nations spinning and weaving, and he determined that +Russia should at once spin and weave; he saw other nations forging +iron, and he determined that Russia should at once forge iron. He never +stopped to consider that what might cost little in other lands, as a +natural growth, might cost far too much in Russia, as a forced growth. + +In lack, then, of quick brain and sturdy spine and strong arm of paid +workmen, he forced into his manufactories the flaccid muscle of serfs. +These, thus lifted from the earth, lost even the little force in the +State they before had; great bodies of serfs thus became slaves; worse +than that, the idea of a serf developed toward the idea of a slave.[D] + +[Footnote D: Haxthausen, _Études sur la Situation Intérieure_, etc., _de +la Russie._] + +And Peter, misguided, dealt one blow more. Cold-blooded officials were +set at taking the census. These adopted easy classifications; free +peasants, serfs, and slaves were often huddled into the lists under +a single denomination. So serfage became still more difficult to be +distinguished from slavery.[E] + +[Footnote E: Gurowski,--also Wolowski in _Revue des Deux Mondes_.] + +As this base of hideous wrong was thus widened and deepened, the +nobles built higher and stronger their superstructure of arrogance and +pretension. Not many years after Peter's death, they so over-awed the +Empress Anne that she thrust into the codes of the Empire statutes which +allowed the nobles to sell serfs apart from the soil. So did serfage +bloom _fully_ into slavery. + +But in the latter half of the eighteenth century Russia gained a ruler +from whom the world came to expect much. + +To mount the throne, Catharine II. had murdered her husband; to keep the +throne, she had murdered two claimants whose title was better than +her own. She then became, with her agents in these horrors, a second +Messalina. + +To set herself right in the eyes of Europe, she paid eager court to +that hierarchy of skepticism which in that age made or marred European +reputations. She flattered the fierce Deists by owning fealty to "_Le +Roi Voltaire_;" she flattered the mild Deists by calling in La Harpe +as the tutor of her grandson; she flattered the Atheists by calling in +Diderot as a tutor for herself. + +Her murders and orgies were soon forgotten in the new hopes for Russian +regeneration. Her dealings with Russia strengthened these hopes. The +official style required that all persons presenting petitions should +subscribe themselves "Your Majesty's humble serf." This formula she +abolished, and boasted that she had cast out the word serf from the +Russian language. Poets and philosophers echoed this boast over Europe, +--and the serfs waited. + +The great Empress spurred hope by another movement. She proposed to +an academy the question of serf-emancipation as a subject for their +prize-essay. The essay was written and crowned. It was filled with +beautiful things about liberty, practical things about moderation, +flattering things about "the Great Catharine,"--and the serfs waited. + +Again she aroused hope. It was given out that her most intense delight +came from the sight of happy serfs and prosperous villages. Accordingly, +in her journey to the Crimea, Potemkin squandered millions on millions +in rearing pasteboard villages,--in dragging forth thousands of wretched +peasants to fill them,--in costuming them to look thrifty,--in training +them to look happy. Catharine was rejoiced,--Europe sang paeans,--the +serfs waited.[F] + +[Footnote F: For further growth of the sentimental fashion thus set, see +_Memoirs of the Princess Daschkaw_, Vol. I. p. 383.] + +She seemed to go farther: she issued a decree prohibiting the +enslavement of serfs. But, unfortunately, the palace-intrigues, and the +correspondence with the philosophers, and the destruction of Polish +nationality left her no time to see the edict carried out. But Europe +applauded,--and the serfs waited. + +Two years after this came a deed which put an end to all this +uncertainty. An edict was prepared, ordering the peasants of Little +Russia to remain forever on the estates where the day of publication +should find them. This was vile; but what followed was diabolic. +Court-pets were let into the secret. These, by good promises, enticed +hosts of peasants to their estates. The edict was now sprung;--in an +hour the courtiers were made rich, the peasants were made serfs, and +Catharine II. was made infamous forever. + +So, about a century after Peter, there rolled over Russia a wave of +wrong which not only drowned honor in the nobility, but drowned hope in +the people. + +As Russia entered the nineteenth century, the hearts of earnest men must +have sunk within them. For Paul I., Catharine's son and successor, was +infinitely more despotic than Catharine, and infinitely less restrained +by public opinion. He had been born with savage instincts, and educated +into ferocity. Tyranny was written on his features, in his childhood. If +he remained in Russia, his mother sneered and showed hatred to him; if +he journeyed in Western Europe, crowds gathered about his coach to jeer +at his ugliness. Most of those who have seen Gillray's caricature +of him, issued in the height of English spite at Paul's homage to +Bonaparte, have thought it hideously overdrawn; but those who have seen +the portrait of Paul in the Cadet-Corps at St. Petersburg know well +that Gillray did not exaggerate Paul's ugliness, for he could not. + +And Paul's face was but a mirror of his character. Tyranny was wrought +into his every fibre. He insisted on an Oriental homage. As his carriage +whirled by, it was held the duty of all others in carriages to stop, +descend into the mud, and bow themselves. Himself threw his despotism +into this formula,--"Know, Sir Ambassador, that in Russia there is +no one noble or powerful except the man to whom I speak, and while I +speak." + +And yet, within that hideous mass glowed some sparks of reverence +for right. When the nobles tried to get Paul's assent to more open +arrangements for selling serfs apart from the soil, he utterly refused; +and when they overtasked their human chattels, Paul made a law that no +serf should be required to give more than three days in the week to the +tillage of his master's domain. + +But, within five years after his accession, Paul had developed into such +a ravenous wild-beast that it became necessary to murder him. This duty +done, there came a change in the spirit of Russian sovereignty as from +March to May; but, sadly for humanity, there came, at the same time, a +change in the spirit of European politics as from May to March. + +For, although the new Tzar, Alexander I., was mild and liberal, the +storm of French ideas and armies had generally destroyed in monarchs' +minds any poor germs of philanthropy which had ever found lodgment +there. Still Alexander breasted this storm,--found time to plan for +his serfs, and in 1803 put his hand to the work of helping them toward +freedom. His first edict was for the creation of the class of "free +laborers." By this, masters and serfs were encouraged to enter into +an arrangement which was to put the serf into immediate possession +of himself, of a homestead, and of a few acres,--giving him time to +indemnify his master by a series of payments. Alexander threw his heart +into this scheme; in his kindliness he supposed that the pretended +willingness of the nobles meant something; but the serf-owning caste, +without openly opposing, twisted up bad consequences with good, braided +impossibilities into possibilities: the whole plan became a tangle, and +was thrown aside. + +The Tzar now sought to foster other good efforts, especially those made +by some earnest nobles to free their serfs by will. But this plan, also, +the serf-owning caste entangled and thwarted. + +At last, the storm of war set in with such fury that all internal +reforms must be lost sight of. Russia had to make ready for those +campaigns in which Napoleon gained every battle. Then came that peaceful +meeting on the raft at Tilsit,--worse for Russia than any warlike +meeting; for thereby Napoleon seduced Alexander, for years, from plans +of bettering his Empire into dreams of extending it. + +Coming out of these dreams, Alexander had to deal with such realities +as the burning of Moscow, the Battle of Leipsic, and the occupation of +France; yet, in the midst of those fearful times,--when the grapple of +the Emperors was at the fiercest,--in the very year of the burning of +Moscow,--Alexander rose in calm statesmanship, and admitted Bessarabia +into the Empire under a proviso which excluded serfage forever. + +Hardly was the great European tragedy ended, when Alexander again turned +sorrowfully toward the wronged millions of his Empire. He found that +progress in civilization had but made the condition of the serfs worse. +The newly ennobled _parvenus_ were worse than the old _boyars_; they +hugged the serf-system more lovingly and the serfs more hatefully.[G] + +[Footnote G: For proofs of this see Haxthausen.] + +The sight of these wrongs roused him. He seized a cross, and swore upon +it that the serf-system should be abolished. + +Straightway a great and good plan was prepared. Its main features were, +a period of transition from serfage to personal liberty, extending +through twelve or fourteen years,--the arrival of the serf at personal +freedom, with ownership of his cabin and the bit of land attached to +it,--the gradual reimbursement of masters by serfs,--and after this +advance to _personal_ liberty, an advance by easy steps to a sort of +_political_ liberty. + +Favorable as was this plan to the serf-owners, they attacked it in +various ways; but they could not kill it utterly. Esthonia, Livonia, and +Courland became free. + +Having failed to arrest the growth of freedom, the serf-holding caste +made every effort to blast the good fruits of freedom. In Courland they +were thwarted; in Esthonia and Livonia they succeeded during many years; +but the eternal laws were too strong for them, and the fruitage of +liberty has grown richer and better. + +After these good efforts, Alexander stopped, discouraged. A few +patriotic nobles stood apart from their caste, and strengthened his +hands, as Lafayette and Liancourt strengthened Louis XVI.; they even +drew up a plan of voluntary emancipation, formed an association for the +purpose, gained many signatures; but the great weight of that besotted +serf-owning caste was thrown against them, and all came to nought. +Alexander was at last walled in from the great object of his ambition. +Pretended theologians built, between him and emancipation, walls of +Scriptural interpretation,[H]--pretended philosophers built walls of +false political economy,--pretended statesmen built walls of sham +common-sense. + +[Footnote H: Gurowski says that they used brilliantly "Cursed be +Canaan," etc.] + +If the Tzar could but have mustered courage to _cut_ the knot! Alas for +Russia and for him, he wasted himself in efforts to _untie_ it. His +heart sickened at it; he welcomed death, which alone could remove him +from it. + +Alexander's successor, Nicholas I., had been known before his accession +as a mere martinet, a good colonel for parade-days, wonderful in +detecting soiled uniforms, terrible in administering petty punishments. +It seems like the story of stupid Brutus over again. Altered +circumstances made a new man of him; and few things are more strange +than the change wrought in his whole bearing and look by that week of +agony and energy in climbing his brother's throne. The portraits of +Nicholas the Grand Duke and Nicholas the Autocrat seem portraits of two +different persons. The first face is averted, suspicious, harsh, with +little meaning and less grandeur; the second is direct, commanding, not +unkind, every feature telling of will to crush opposition, every line +marking sense of Russian supremacy. + +The great article of Nicholas's creed was a complete, downright faith in +Despotism, and in himself as Despotism's apostle. + +Hence he hated, above all things, a limited monarchy. He told De Custine +that a pure monarchy or pure republic he could understand; but that +anything between these he could _not_ understand. Of his former rule of +Poland, as constitutional monarch, he spoke with loathing. + +Of this hate which Nicholas felt for liberal forms of government there +yet remain monuments in the great museum of the Kremlin. + +That museum holds an immense number of interesting things, and masses +of jewels and plate which make all other European collections mean. The +visitor wanders among clumps of diamonds, and sacks of pearls, and a +nauseating wealth of rubies and sapphires and emeralds. There rise row +after row of jewelled scymitars, and vases and salvers of gold, and old +saddles studded with diamonds, and with stirrups of gold,--presents of +frightened Asiatic satraps or fawning European allies. + +There, too, are the crowns of Muscovy, of Russia, of Kazan, of +Astrachan, of Siberia, of the Crimea, and, pity to say it, of Poland. +And next this is an index of despotic hate,--for the Polish sceptre is +broken and flung aside. + +Near this stands the full-length portrait of the first Alexander; and at +his feet are grouped captured flags of Hungary and Poland,--some with +blood-marks still upon them. + +But below all,--far beneath the feet of the Emperor,--in dust +and ignominy and on the floor, is flung the very Constitution of +Poland--parchment for parchment, ink for ink, good promise for good +promise--which Alexander gave with so many smiles, and which Nicholas +took away with so much bloodshed. + +And not far from this monument of the deathless hate Nicholas bore that +liberty he had stung to death stands a monument of his admiration for +straightforward tyranny, even in the most dreaded enemy his house ever +knew. Standing there is a statue in the purest of marble,--the only +statue in those vast halls. It has the place of honor. It looks proudly +over all that glory, and keeps ward over all that treasure; and that +statue, in full majesty of imperial robes and bees and diadem and face, +is of the first Napoleon. Admiration of his tyrannic will has at last +made him peaceful sovereign of the Kremlin. + +This spirit of absolutism took its most offensive form in Nicholas's +attitude toward Europe. He was the very incarnation of reaction against +revolution, and he became the demigod of that horde of petty despots who +infest Central Europe. + +Whenever, then, any tyrant's lie was to be baptized, he stood its +godfather; whenever any God's truth was to be crucified, he led on +those who passed by reviling and wagging their heads. Whenever these +oppressors revived some old feudal wrong, Nicholas backed them in the +name of Religion; whenever their nations struggled to preserve some +great right, Nicholas crushed them in the name of Law and Order. With +these pauper princes his children intermarried, and he fed them with his +crumbs, and clothed them with scraps of his purple. The visitor can +see to-day, in every one of their dwarf palaces, some of his malachite +vases, or porcelain bowls, or porphyry columns. + +But the _people_ of Western Europe distrusted him as much as their +rulers worshipped; and some of these same presents to their rulers have +become trifle-monuments of no mean value in showing that popular idea +of Russian policy. Foremost among these stand those two bronze masses +of statuary in front of the Royal Palace at Berlin,--representing fiery +horses restrained by strong men. Pompous inscriptions proclaim these +presents from Nicholas; but the people, knowing the man and his +measures, have fastened forever upon one of these curbed steeds the name +of "Progress Checked," and on the other, "Retrogression Encouraged." + +And the people were right. Whether sending presents to gladden his +Prussian pupil, or sending armies to crush Hungary, or sending sneering +messages to plague Louis Philippe, he remained proud in his apostolate +of Absolutism. + +This pride Nicholas never relaxed. A few days before his self-will +brought him to his death-bed, we saw him ride through the St. Petersburg +streets with no pomp and no attendants, yet in as great pride as ever +Despotism gave a man. At his approach, nobles uncovered and looked +docile, soldiers faced about and became statues, long-bearded peasants +bowed to the ground with the air of men on whose vision a miracle +flashes. For there was one who could make or mar all fortunes,--the +absolute owner of street and houses and passers-by,--one who owned the +patent and dispensed the right to tread that soil, to breathe that air, +to be glorified in that sunlight and amid those snow-crystals. And he +looked it all. Though at that moment his army was entrapped by military +stratagem, and he himself was entrapped by diplomatic stratagem, that +face and form were proud as ever and confident as ever. + +There was, in this attitude toward Europe,--in this standing forth +as the representative man of Absolutism, and breasting the nineteenth +century,--something of greatness; but in his attitude toward Russia this +greatness was wretchedly diminished. + +For, as Alexander I. was a good man enticed out of goodness by the baits +of Napoleon, Nicholas was a great man scared out of greatness by the +ever-recurring phantom of the French Revolution. + +In those first days of his reign, when he enforced loyalty with +grape-shot and halter, Nicholas dared much and stood firm; but his +character soon showed another side. + +Fearless as he was before bright bayonets, he was an utter coward before +bright ideas. He laughed at the flash of cannon, but he trembled at the +flash of a new living thought. Whenever, then, he attempted a great +thing for his nation, he was sure to be scared back from its completion +by fear of revolution. And so, to-day, he who looks through Russia for +Nicholas's works finds a number of great things he has done, but each is +single, insulated,--not preceded logically, not followed effectively. + +Take, as an example of this, his railway-building. + +His own pride and Russian interest demanded railways. He scanned the +world with that keen eye of his,--saw that American energy was the best +supplement to Russian capital; his will darted quickly, struck afar, and +Americans came to build his road from St. Petersburg to Moscow. + +Nothing can be more complete. It is an "air-line" road, and so perfect +that the traveller finds few places where the rails do not meet on +either side of him in the horizon. The track is double,--the rails very +heavy and admirably ballasted,--station-houses and engine-houses are +splendid in build, perfect in arrangement, and surrounded by neat +gardens. The whole work is worthy of the Pyramid-builders. The +traveller is whirled by culverts, abutments, and walls of dressed +granite,--through cuttings where the earth on either side is carefully +paved or turfed to the summit. Ranges of Greek columns are reared as +crossings in the midst of broad marshes,--lions' heads in bronzed iron +stare out upon vast wastes where never rose even the smoke from a serf's +kennel. + +All this seems good; and a ride of four hundred miles through such +glories rarely fails to set the traveller at chanting the praises of the +Emperor who conceived them. But when the traveller notes that complete +isolation of the work from all conditions necessary to its success, his +praises grow fainter. He sees that Nicholas held back from continuing +the road to Odessa, though half the money spent in making the road an +Imperial plaything would have built a good, solid extension to that +most important seaport; he sees that Nicholas dared not untie +police-regulations, and that commerce is wretchedly meagre. Contrary to +what would obtain under a free system, this great public work found the +country wretched and left it wretched. The traveller flies by no ranges +of trim palings and tidy cottages; he sees the same dingy groups of huts +here as elsewhere,--the same cultivation looking for no morrow,--the +same tokens that the laborer is _not_ thought worthy of his hire. + +This same tendency to great single works, this same fear of great +connected systems, this same timid isolation of great creations from +principles essential to their growth is seen, too, in Nicholas's +church-building. + +Foremost of all the edifices on which Nicholas lavished the wealth of +the Empire stands the Isak Church in St. Petersburg. It is one of the +largest, and certainly the richest, cathedral in Christendom. All is +polished pink granite and marble and bronze. On all sides are double +rows of Titanic columns,--each a single block of polished granite with +bronze capital. Colossal masses of bronze statuary are grouped over each +front; high above the roof and surrounding the great drums of the domes +are lines of giant columns in granite bearing giant statues in bronze; +and crowning all rises the vast central dome, flanked by its four +smaller domes, all heavily plated with gold. + +The church within is one gorgeous mass of precious marbles and mosaics +and silver and gold and jewels. On the tabernacle of the altar, in +gold and malachite, on the screen of the altar, with its pilasters of +_lapis-lazuli_ and its range of malachite columns fifty feet high, were +lavished millions on millions. Bulging from the ceilings are massy +bosses of Siberian porphyry and jasper. To decorate the walls with +unfading pictures, Nicholas founded an establishment for mosaic work, +where sixty pictures were commanded, each demanding, after all artistic +labor, the mechanical labor of two men for four years. + +Yet this vast work is not so striking a monument of Nicholas's luxury as +of his timidity. + +For this cathedral and some others almost as grand were, in part, at +least, results of the deep wish of Nicholas to wean his people from +their semi-idolatrous love for dark, confined, filthy sanctuaries, like +those of Moscow; but here, again, is a timid purpose and half-result; +Nicholas dared set no adequate enginery working at the popular religious +training or moral training. There had been such an organization,--the +Russian Bible Society,--favored by the first Alexander; but Nicholas +swept it away at one pen-stroke. Evidently, he feared lest Scriptural +denunciations of certain sins in ancient politics might be popularly +interpreted against certain sins in modern politics. + +It was this same vague fear at revolutionary remembrance which thwarted +Nicholas in all his battling against official corruption. + +The corruption-system in Russia is old, organized, and respectable. +Stories told of Russian bribes and thefts exceed belief only until one +has been on the ground. + +Nicholas began well. He made an Imperial progress to Odessa,--was +welcomed in the morning by the Governor in full pomp and robes and +flow of smooth words; and at noon the same Governor was working in the +streets, with ball and chain, as a convict. + +But against such a chronic moral evil no government is so weak as your +so-called "_strong_" government. Nicholas set out one day for the +Cronstadt arsenals, to look into the accounts there; but before he +reached them, stores, storehouses, and account-books were in ashes. + +So, at last, Nicholas folded his arms and wrestled no more. For, apart +from the trouble, there came ever in his dealings with thieves that +old timid thought of his, that, if he examined too closely their +thief-tenure, they might examine too closely his despot-tenure. + +We have shown this vague fear in Nicholas's mind, thus at length and in +different workings, because thereby alone can be grasped the master-key +to his dealings with the serf-system. + +Toward his toiling millions Nicholas always showed sympathy. Let news +of a single wrong to a serf get through the hedges about the Russian +majesty, and woe to the guilty master! Many of these wrongs came +to Nicholas's notice; and he came to hate the system, and tried to +undermine it. + +Opposition met him, of course,--not so much the ponderous laziness of +Peter's time as an opposition polite and elastic, which never ranted and +never stood up,--for then Nicholas would have throttled it and stamped +upon it. But it did its best to entangle his reason and thwart his +action. + +He was told that the serfs were well fed, well housed, well clothed, +well provided with religion,--were contented, and had no wish to leave +their owners. + +Now Nicholas was not strong at spinning sham reason nor subtle at +weaving false conscience; but, to his mind, the very fact that the +system had so degraded a man that he could laugh and dance and sing, +while other men took his wages and wife and homestead, was the crowning +argument _against_ the system. + +Then the political economists beset him, proving that without forced +labor Russia must sink into sloth and poverty.[I] + +[Footnote I: For choice specimens of these reasonings, see Von Erman, +_Archiv für Wissenschaftliche Kunde von Russland_.] + +Yet all this could not shut out from Nicholas's sight the great black +_fact_ in the case. He saw, and winced as he saw, that, while other +European nations, even under despots, were comparatively active and +energetic, his own people were sluggish and stagnant,--that, although +great thoughts and great acts were towering in the West, there were in +Russia, after all his galvanizing, no great authors, or scholars, or +builders, or inventors, but only those two main products of Russian +civilization,--dissolute lords and abject serfs. + +But what to do? Nicholas tried to help his Empire by setting right any +individual wrongs whose reports broke their way to him. + +Nearly twenty years went by in this timid dropping of grains of salt +into a putrid sea. + +But at last, in 1842, Nicholas issued his ukase creating the class of +"contracting peasants." Masters and serfs were empowered to enter into +contracts,--the serf receiving freedom, the master receiving payment in +instalments. + +It was a moderate innovation, _very_ moderate,--nothing more than the +first failure of the first Alexander. Yet, even here, that old timidity +of Nicholas nearly spoiled what little good was hidden in the ukase. +Notice after notice was given to the serf-owners that they were not to +be molested, that no emancipation was contemplated, and that the ukase +"contained nothing new." + +The result was as feeble as the policy. A few serfs were emancipated, +and Nicholas halted. The revolutions of 1848 increased his fear of +innovation; and, finally, the war in the Crimea took from him the power +of innovation. + +The great man died. We saw his cold, dead face, in the midst of crowns +and crosses,--very pale then, very powerless then. One might stare at +him then, as at a serf's corpse; for he who had scared Europe during +thirty years lay before us that day as a poor lump of chilled brain and +withered muscle. + +And we stood by, when, amid chanting, and flare of torches, and roll of +cannon, his sons wrapped him in his shroud of gold-thread, and lowered +him into the tomb of his fathers. + +But there was shown in those days far greater tribute than the prayers +of bishops or the reverence of ambassadors. Massed about the Winter +Palace, and the Fortress of Peter and Paul, stood thousands on thousands +who, in far-distant serf-huts, had put on their best, had toiled wearily +to the capital, to give their last mute thanks to one who for years had +stood between their welfare and their owners' greed. Sad that he had not +done more. Yet they knew that he had _wished_ their freedom,--that he +had loathed their wrongs: for _that_ came up the tribute of millions. + +The new Emperor, Alexander II., had never been hoped for as one who +could light the nation from his brain: the only hope was that he might +warm the nation, somewhat, from his heart. He was said to be of a weak, +silken fibre. The strength of the family was said to be concentrated in +his younger brother Constantine. + +But soon came a day when the young Tzar revealed to Europe not merely +kindliness, but strength. + +While his father's corpse was yet lying within his palace, he received +the diplomatic body. As the Emperor entered the audience-room, he seemed +feeble indeed for such a crisis. That fearful legacy of war seemed to +weigh upon his heart; marks of plenteous tears were upon his face; +Nesselrode, though old and bent and shrunk in stature, seemed stronger +than his young master. + +But, as he began his speech, it was seen that a strong man had mounted +the throne. + +With earnestness he declared that he sorrowed over the existing +war,--but that, if the Holy Alliance had been broken, it was not through +the fault of Russia. With bitterness he turned toward the Austrian +Minister, Esterhazy, and hinted at Russian services in 1848 and Austrian +ingratitude. Calmly, then, not as one who spoke a part, but as one who +announced a determination, he declared,--"I am anxious for peace; but if +the terms at the approaching congress are incompatible with the honor of +my nation, I will put myself at the head of my faithful Russia and die +sooner than yield."[J] + +[Footnote J: This sketch is given from notes taken at the audience.] + +Strong as Alexander showed himself by these words, he showed himself +stronger by acts. A policy properly mingling firmness and conciliation +brought peace to Europe, and showed him equal to his father; a policy +mingling love of liberty with love of order brought the dawn of +prosperity to Russia, and showed him the superior of his father. + +The reforms now begun were not stinted, as of old, but free and hearty. +In rapid succession were swept away restrictions on telegraphic +communication,--on printing,--on the use of the Imperial Library,--on +strangers entering the country,--on Russians leaving the country. A +policy in public works was adopted which made Nicholas's greatest +efforts seem petty: a vast net-work of railways was commenced. A policy +in commercial dealings with Western Europe was adopted, in which +Alexander, though not apparently so imposing as Nicholas, was really far +greater: he dared advance toward freedom of trade. + +But soon rose again that great problem of old,--that problem ever +rising to meet a new Autocrat, and, at each appearance, more dire than +before,--the serf-question. + +The serfs in private hands now numbered more than twenty millions; above +them stood more than a hundred thousand owners. + +The princely strength of the largest owners was best represented by a +few men possessing over a hundred thousand serfs each, and, above all, +by Count Scheremetieff, who boasted three hundred thousand. The luxury +of the large owners was best represented by about four thousand men +possessing more than a thousand serfs each. The pinching propensities +of the small owners were best represented by nearly fifty thousand men +possessing less than twenty serfs each.[K] + +[Footnote K: Gerebtzoff, _Histoire de la Civilisation en +Russie_,--Wolowski, in _Revue des Deux Mondes_,--and Tegoborski, +_Commentaries on the Productive Forces of Russia_, Vol. I. p. 221.] + +The serfs might be divided into two great classes. The first comprised +those working under the old, or _corvée_, system,--giving, generally, +three days in the week to the tillage of the owner's domain; the second +comprised those working under the new, or _obrok_, system,--receiving +a payment fixed by the owner and assessed by the community to which the +serfs belonged. + +The character of the serfs has been moulded by the serf-system. + +They have a simple shrewdness, which, under a better system, had made +them enterprising; but this quality has degenerated into cunning and +cheatery,--the weapons which the hopelessly oppressed always use. + +They have a reverence for things sacred, which, under a better system, +might have given the nation a strengthening religion; but they now stand +among the most religious peoples on earth, and among the least moral. To +the besmutted picture of Our Lady of Kazan they are ever ready to burn +wax and oil; to Truth and Justice they constantly omit the tribute of +mere common honesty. They keep the Church fasts like saints; they keep +the Church feasts like satyrs. + +They have a curiosity, which, under a better system, had made them +inventive; but their plough in common use is behind the plough described +by Virgil. + +They have a love of gain, which, under a better system, had made them +hard-working; but it takes ten serfs to do languidly and poorly what +two free men in America do quickly and well. + +They are naturally a kind people; but let one example show how serfage +can transmute kindness. + +It is a rule well known in Russia, that, when an accident occurs, +interference is to be left to the police. Hence you shall see a man +lying in a fit, and the bystanders giving no aid, but waiting for the +authorities. + +Some years since, as all the world remembers, a theatre took fire in St. +Petersburg, and crowds of people were burned or stifled. The whole story +is not so well known. That theatre was but a great temporary wooden +shed,--such as is run up every year at the holidays, in the public +squares. When the fire burst forth, crowds of peasants hurried to the +spot; but though they heard the shrieks of the dying,--separated from +them only by a thin planking,--only one man, in all that multitude, +dared cut through and rescue some of the sufferers. + +The serfs, when standing for great ideas, will die rather than yield. +The first Napoleon learned this at Eylau,--the third Napoleon learned +it at Sevastopol; yet in daily life they are slavish beyond belief. On +a certain day in the year 1855, the most embarrassed man in all the +Russias was, doubtless, our excellent American Minister. The +serf-coachman employed at wages was called up to receive his discharge for +drunkenness. Coming into the presence of a sound-hearted American +democrat, who had never dreamed of one mortal kneeling to another, Ivan +throws himself on his knees, presses his forehead to the Minister's +feet, fawns like a tamed beast, and refuses to move until the Minister +relieves himself from this nightmare of servility by a full pardon. + +The whole working of the system has been fearful. + +Time after time, we have entered the serf field and serf hut,--have +seen the simple round of serf toils and sports,--have heard the simple +chronicles of serf joys and sorrows. But whether his livery were filthy +sheepskin or gold-laced caftan,--whether he lay on carpets at the door +of his master, or in filth on the floor of his cabin,--whether he gave +us cold, stupid stories of his wrongs, or flippant details of his +joys,--whether he blessed his master or cursed him,--we have wondered at +the power which a serf-system has to degrade and imbrute the image of +God. + +But astonishment was increased a thousand fold at study of the reflex +influence for evil upon the serf-owners themselves,--upon the whole +free community,--upon the very soil of the whole country. + +On all those broad plains of Russia, on the daily life of that +serf-owning aristocracy, on the whole class which is neither of serfs +nor serf-owners, the curse of God is written in letters so big and so +black that all mankind may read them. + +Farms are untilled, enterprise deadened, invention crippled, +education neglected; life is of little value; labor is the badge of +servility,--laziness the very badge and passport of gentility. + +Despite the most specious half-measures,--despite all efforts to +galvanize it, to coax life into it, to sting life into it, the nation +has remained stagnant. Not one traveller who does not know that the +evils brought on that land by the despotism of the Autocrat are as +nothing compared to that dark net-work of curses spread over it by a +serf-owning aristocracy. + +Into the conflict with this evil Alexander II. entered manfully. + +Having been two years upon the throne, having made a plan, having +stirred some thought through certain authorized journals, he inspires +the nobility in three of the northwestern provinces to memorialize him +in regard to emancipation. + +Straightway an answer is sent, conveying the outlines of the Emperor's +plan. The period of transition from serfage to freedom is set at twelve +years; at the end of that time the serf is to be fully free, and +possessor of his cabin, with an adjoining piece of land. The provincial +nobles are convoked to fill out these outlines with details as to the +working out by the serfs of a fair indemnity to their masters. + +The whole world is stirred; but that province in which the Tzar hoped +most eagerly for a movement to meet him--the province where beats the +old Muscovite heart, Moscow--is stirred least of all. Every earnest +throb seems stifled there by that strong aristocracy. + +Yet Moscow moves at last. Some nobles who have not yet arrived at the +callous period, some Professors in the University who have not yet +arrived at the heavy period, breathe life into the mass, drag on the +timid, fight off the malignant. + +The movement has soon a force which the retrograde party at Moscow dare +not openly resist. So they send answers to St. Petersburg apparently +favorable; but wrapped in their phrases are hints of difficulties, +reservations, impossibilities. + +All this studied suggestion of difficulties profits the reactionists +nothing. They are immediately informed that the Imperial mind is made +up,--that the business of the Muscovite nobility is now to arrange that +the serf be freed in twelve years, and put in possession of homestead +and inclosure. + +The next movement of the retrograde party is to _misunderstand_ +everything. The plainest things are found to need a world of +debate,--the simplest things become entangled,--the noble assemblies +play solemnly a ludicrous game at cross-purposes. + +Straightway comes a notice from the Emperor, which, stripped of official +verbiage, says that they _must_ understand. This sets all in motion +again. Imperial notices are sent to province after province, explanatory +documents are issued, good men and strong are set to talk and work. + +The nobility of Moscow now make another move. To scare back the +advancing forces of emancipation, they elect as provincial leaders three +nobles bearing the greatest names of old Russia, and haters of the new +ideas. + +To defeat these comes a miracle. + +There stands forth a successor of Saint Gregory and Saint Bavon,--one +who accepts that deep mediaeval thought, that, when God advances +great ideas, the Church must marshal them, or go under,--Philarete, +Metropolitan of Moscow. The Church, as represented in him, is no longer +scholastic,--it is become apostolic. He upholds emancipation,--condemns +its foes; his earnest eloquence carries all. + +The work having progressed unevenly,--nobles in different governments +differing in plan and aim,--an assembly of delegates is brought together +at St Petersburg to combine and perfect a resultant plan under the eye +of the Emperor. + +The Grand Council of the Empire, too, is set at the work. It is a most +unpromising body,--yet the Emperor's will stirs it. + +The opposition now make the most brilliant stroke of their campaign. +Just as James II. of England prated toleration and planned the +enslavement of all thought, so now the bigoted plotters against +emancipation begin to prate of Constitutional Liberty. + +Had they been fighting Nicholas, this would doubtless have accomplished +its purpose. He would have become furious, and in his fury would have +wrecked reform. But Alexander bears right on. It is even hinted that +visions of a constitutional monarchy please him. + +But then come tests of Alexander's strength far more trying. Masses of +peasants, hearing vague news of emancipation,--learning, doubtless, from +their masters' own spiteful lips that the Emperor is endeavoring to tear +away property in serfs,--take the masters at their word, and determine +to help the Emperor. They rise in insurrection. + +To the bigoted serf-owners this is a godsend. They parade it in all +lights; therewith they throw life into all the old commonplaces on the +French Revolution; timid men of good intentions begin to waver. The Tzar +will surely now be scared back. + +Not so. Alexander now hurls his greatest weapon, and stuns reaction in a +moment. He frees all the serfs on the Imperial estates without reserve. +Now it is seen that he is in earnest; the opponents are disheartened; +once more the plan moves and drags them on. + +But there came other things to dishearten the Emperor; and not least of +these was the attitude of those who moulded popular thought in England. + +Be it said here to the credit of France, that from her came constant +encouragement in the great work. Wolowski, Mazade, and other +true-hearted men sent forth from leading reviews and journals words of +sympathy, words of help, words of cheer. + +Not so England. Just as, in the French Revolution of 1789, while yet +that Revolution was noble and good, while yet Lafayette and Bailly held +it, leaders in English thought who had quickened the opinions which +had caused the Revolution sent malignant prophecies and prompted foul +blows,--just as, in this our own struggle, leaders in English thought +who have helped create the opinion which has brought on this struggle +now deal treacherously with us,--so, in this battle of Alexander against +a foul wrong, they seized this time of all times to show all the +wrongs and absurdities of which Russia ever had been or ever might be +guilty,--criticized, carped, sent plentifully haughty advice, depressing +sympathy, malignant prophecy. + +Review-articles, based on no real knowledge of Russia, announced desire +for serf-emancipation,--and then, in the modern English way, with +plentiful pyrotechnics of antithesis and paradox, threw a gloomy light +into the skilfully pictured depths of Imperial despotism, official +corruption, and national bankruptcy. + +They revived Old-World objections, which, to one acquainted with the +most every-day workings of serfage, were ridiculous. + +It was said, that, if the serfs lost the protection of their owners, +they might fall a prey to rapacious officials. As well might it +have been argued that a mother should never loose her son from her +apron-strings. + +It was said that "serfism excludes pauperism,"--that, if the serf owes +work to his owner in the prime of life, the owner owes support to his +serf in the decline of life. No lie could be more absurd to one who had +seen Russian life. We were first greeted, on entering Russia, by a +beggar who knelt in the mud; at Kovno eighteen beggars besieged the +coach,--and Kovno was hardly worse than scores of other towns; within a +day's ride of St. Petersburg a woman begged piteously for means to keep +soul and body together, and finished the refutation of that sonorous +English theory,--for she had been discharged from her master's service +in the metropolis as too feeble, and had been sent back to his domain, +afar in the country, on foot and without money. + +It was said that freed peasants would not work. But, despite volleys +of predictions that they _would_ not work if freed, despite volleys of +assertions that they _could_ not work if freed, the peasants, when set +free, and not crushed by regulations, have sprung to their work with an +earnestness, and continued it with a vigor, at which the philosophers +of the old system stand aghast. The freed peasants of Wologda compare +favorably with any in Europe. + +And when the old tirades had grown stale, English writers drew copiously +from a new source,--from "La Vérité sur la Russie,"--pleasingly +indifferent to the fact that the author's praise in a previous work had +notoriously been a thing of bargain and sale, and that there was in full +process of development a train of facts which led the Parisian courts to +find him guilty of demanding in one case a "blackmail" of fifty thousand +roubles.[L] + +[Footnote L: _Procès en Diffamation du Prince Simon Worontzoff contre le +Prince Pierre Dolgornokow_. Leipzig, 1862] + +All this argument outside the Empire helped the foes of emancipation +inside the Empire. + +But the Emperor met the whole body of his opponents with an argument +overwhelming. On the 5th of March, 1861, he issued his manifesto making +the serfs FREE. He had struggled long to make some satisfactory previous +arrangement; his motto now became, Emancipation first, Arrangement +afterward. Thus was the _result_ of the great struggle decided; but, +to this day, the after-arrangement remains undecided. The Tzar offers +gradual indemnity; the nobles seem to prefer fire and blood. Alexander +stands firm; the last declaration brought across the water was that he +would persist in reforms. + +But, whatever the after-process, THE SERFS ARE FREE. + +The career before Russia is hopeful indeed; emancipation of her serfs +has set her fully in that career. The vast mass of her inhabitants are +of a noble breed, combining the sound mind of the Indo-Germanic races +with the tough muscle of the northern plateaus of Asia. In no other +country on earth is there such unity in language, in degree of +cultivation, and in basis of ideas. Absolutely the same dialect is +spoken by lord and peasant, in capital and in province. + +And, to an American thinker, more hopeful still for Russia is the +patriarchal democratic system,--spreading a primary political education +through the whole mass. Leaders of their hamlets and communities +are voted for; bodies of peasants settle the partition of land and +assessments in public meetings; discussions are held; votes are taken; +and though Tzar's right and nobles' right are considered far above +people's right, yet this rude democratic schooling is sure to keep +bright in the people some sparks of manliness and some glow of free +thought. + +In view, too, of many words and acts of the present Emperor, it is +not too much to hope, that, ere many years, Russia will become a +constitutional monarchy. + +So shall Russia be made a power before which all other European powers +shall be pigmies. + +Before the close of the year in which we now stand, there is to be +celebrated at Nijnii-Novogorod the thousandth anniversary of the +founding of Russia. Then is to rise above the domes and spires of that +famed old capital a monument to the heroes of Russian civilization. + +Let the sculptor group about its base Rurik and his followers, who in +rude might hewed out strongholds for the coming nation. Let goodly +place be given to Minime and Pojarski, who drove forth barbarian +invaders,--goodly place also to Platov and Kutusov, who drove forth +civilized invaders. Let there be high-placed niches for Ivan the Great, +who developed order,--for Peter the Great, who developed physical +strength,--for Derjavine and Karamsin, who developed moral and mental +strength. Let Philarete of Moscow stand forth as he stood confronting +with Christ's gospel the traffickers in flesh and blood. In loving care +let there be wrought the face and form of Alexander the First,--the +Kindly. + +But, crowning all, let there lord it a noble statue to the greatest of +Russian benefactors in all these thousand years,--to the Warrior who +restored peace,--to the Monarch who had faith in God's will to make +order, and in man's will to keep order,--to the Christian Patriot who +made forty millions of serfs forty millions of _men_,--to Alexander the +Second,--ALEXANDER THE EARNEST. + + * * * * * + + +MR. AXTELL. + +PART IV. + + +I said that the afternoon sunlight poured its rain into the church-yard. +It was four of the clock when Aaron left me. + +The dream that I had received impression of still dwelt in active +remembrance, and a little fringe from the greater glory mine eyes had +seen went trailing in flows of light along the edge of earth, as if +saying unto it, "Arise and behold what I am!" + +One child habiting earth dared to lift eyes into the awful arch of air, +wherein are laid the foundation-stones of the crystalline wall, and, +beholding drops of Infinite Love, garnered one, and, walking forth with +it in her heart, went into the church-yard,--a regret arising that the +graves that held the columns fallen from the family-corridor had found +so little of place within affection's realm. The regret, growing into +resolution, hastened her steps, that went unto the place devoted to +the dead Percivals. It was in a corner,--the corner wherein grew the +pine-tree of the hills. + +"A peaceful spot of earth," I thought, as I went into the hedged +inclosure, and shut myself in with the gleaming marble, and the +low-hanging evergreens that waved their green arms to ward ill away from +those they had grown up among. "It is long since the ground has been +broken here," I thought,--"so long!" And I looked upon a monumental +stone to find there recorded the latest date of death. It was eighteen +hundred and forty-four,--my mother's,--and I looked about and sought +her grave. The grass seemed crispy and dry. I sat down by this grave. I +leaned over it, and looked into the tangled net-work of dead fibres held +fast by some link of the past to living roots underneath. I plucked some +of them, and in idlest of fancies looked closely to see if deeds or +thoughts of a summer gone had been left upon them. "No! I've had enough +of fancies for one day; I'll have no more to-night," I thought; and I +wished for something to do. I longed for action whereon to imprint my +new impress of resolution. It came in a guise I had not calculated upon. + +"It's very wrong of you to sit upon that damp ground, Miss Percival." + +The words evidently were addressed to me, sitting hidden in among the +evergreens. I looked up and answered,-- + +"It is not damp, Mr. Axtell." + +He was leaning upon the iron railing outside of the hedge. + +"Will you come away from that cold, damp place?" he went on. + +"I'm not ready to leave yet," I said, and never moved. I asked,-- + +"How is your sister since morning?" + +I thought him offended. He made no reply,--only walked away and went +into the church close by. + +"One can never know the next mood that one of these Axtells will take," +I said to myself, in the stillness that followed his going. "He might +have answered me, at least." Then I reproached Anna Percival for +cherishing uncharity towards tried humanity. There's a way appointed +for escape, I know, and I sought it, burying my face in my hands, and +leaning over the stillness of my mother's heart. I heard steps drawing +near. Looking up, I saw Mr. Axtell entering the inclosure. He had +brought one of the church pew-cushions. + +"Will you rise?" he asked. + +He did not bring the cushion to where I was; he carried it around and +spread it in a vacant spot between two graves, the place left beside +my mother for my precious father's white hairs to be laid in. Having +deposited it there, he looked at me, evidently expecting that I would +avail myself of his kindness. I wanted to refuse. I felt perfectly +comfortable where I was. I should have done so, had not my intention +been intercepted by a shaft of expression that crossed my vein of +humor unexpectedly. It was only a look from out of his eyes. They were +absolutely colorless,--not white, not black, but a strange mingling of +all hues made them everything to my view,--and yet so full of coloring +that no one ray came shining out and said, "I'm blue, or black, or +gray;" but something said, if not the mandate of color, "Obey!" + +I did. + +"Sacrilege!" I said. "It is a place for worship." + +"Whose grave is this?" Mr. Axtell asked, as he bent down and laid his +hand upon the sod. It was upon the one next beyond my mother's; between +the two it was that he had placed the cushion. + +"The head-stone is just there. You can read, can you not?" I asked, with +a spice of malice, because for the second time this barbaric gentleman +had commanded me to obey. + +He lifted himself up, leaned against the towering family-monument, and +slowly said,-- + +"Miss Percival, it is very hard for an Axtell to forgive." + +I thought of the face in the Upper Country, and asked,-- + +"Why?" + +"Because the Creator has almost deprived them of forgiving power. Don't +tempt one of them to sin by giving occasion for the exercise of that +wherein they mourn at being deficient." + +I pulled dead grassy fibres again, and said nothing. + +The second time he bent to the mound of earth, and said,-- + +"Please tell me now, Miss Anna, whose grave this is;" and there were +tears in his eyes that made them for the moment grandly brown. + +"Truly, Mr. Axtell, I do not know. I've been so busy with the living that +I've not thought much of this place. It long since all these died, you +know;" and I looked about upon the little village closed in by the iron +railing. "I do not know that I can tell you one, save my mother's, here. +I remember her; the others I cannot." + +I arose to walk around to the headstone and see. + +"No," he said. "Will you listen to me a little while?" + +"If you'll sing for me." + +"Sing for you?"--and there was a world of reproach in his meaning. "Is +this a place for songs? or am I a man to sing?" + +"Why not, Mr. Axtell? Aaron told me that you could sing, if you would; +he has heard you." + +"I will sing for you," he said, "if, after I am done, you choose to hear +the song I sing." + +I thought again of Miss Lettie, and put the question, once unheeded, +concerning her. + +"She is better. Your sister is a charming nurse." + +A long quiet ensued; in it came the memory of Dr. Eaton's interest in +the young girl's face. + +"Is Mr. Axtell an artist?" I asked, after the silence. + +"Mr. Axtell is a church-sexton," was the response. + +"Cannot he be both sexton and artist?" + +"How can he?" + +"You have a strange way of telling me that I ought not to question you," +I said, vexed at his non-committal words and manner. + +He changed the subject widely, when next he spoke. + +"Have you the letter that you picked up last night?" he asked. + +"Yes, Mr. Axtell." + +"Give it to me, please." + +"Did Miss Lettie commission you to ask?" + +"She did not." + +"Then I cannot give it to you." + +"Cannot give me my sister's letter?" + +"It was to _me_ that it was intrusted." + +"And you are afraid to trust me with it?" + +"I am afraid to break the trust reposed in myself." + +Again the black roll of silent thunder gloomed on his brow; as once his +sister's eyes had been, his now were coruscant. + +"Do you refuse to give it to me?" he demanded. + +"I do," I said, "now, and until Miss Lettie says, 'Give.'" + +"You've learned the contents, I presume," he said, with untold sarcasm. +"Woman's curiosity digs deeply, when once aroused." + +"You've been taught of woman in a sad school, I fear. I'll forgive the +faults of your education, Mr. Axtell. Have you any more remarks to me? +I'm waiting." + +"Do you know the contents of the letter that made Lettie so anxious?" + +"You accused me before questioning formerly, or I should have given you +truth. I have no knowledge of what is in the letter." + +He had resumed his former position, leaning against the monument, where +I had mine. He changed it now, drawing nearer for an instant, then went +to the side of the grave that he had asked me concerning, kneeled there, +laid two hands above it, and said,-- + +"Letty was right, Miss Anna. God has made you well,--made you after the +similitude of her who sleeps underneath this sod. Will you forgive my +rudeness?" + +And he looked down as I had done, ere he came, into the tangled, matted +fibres, then out into the great all-where of air, as if some mysterious +presence encompassed him. + +Very lowly I said,-- + +"Forgiveness is of God;" and I remembered the vision that came in my +dream. The little voice that steals into hearts crowded with emotions, +and tells tiny nerves of wish which way to fly, went whispering through +the niches of my mind, "Tell the dream." + +Mr. Axtell went back to his monumental resting-place. I said,-- + +"I have had a wonderful dream to-day;" and I began to tell the opening +thereof. + +The first sentence was not told when I stopped, suddenly. I could not go +on. He asked me, "Why?" I only re-uttered what I felt, that I could not +tell it. + +"Oh! I have had a dream," he said,--"one that for eighteen years has +been hung above my days and woven into my nights,--a great, hopeless +woof of doom. I have tried to broider it with gold, I have tried to hang +silver-bells upon the drooping corners thereof. I have tried to fold it +about me and wear it, as other men wear sorrows, for the sun of heaven +and the warmth of society to draw the wrinkled creases out. I have +striven to fold it up, and lay it by in the arbor-vitae chest of memory, +with myrrh and camphor, but it will not be exorcised. No, no! it hangs +firm as granite, stiff as the axis of the sun, unapproachable as the +aurora of the North. Miss Percival, could you wear such a vestment in +the march of life?" + +"Your dream is too mystical; will you tell me what it has done for you? +As yet, I only know what you have not done with it." + +"What it has done for me?"--and he went slowly on, thinking half aloud, +as if the idea were occurring for the first time. + +"It touched me one soft summer day, before the earth became mildewed and +famine-stricken. I was a proud, wilful Axtell boy; all the family traits +were written with a white-hot pen on me. My will, my great high will, +went ringing chimes of what I would do through the house where I was +born, where my mother has just died, and I swung this right arm forth +into the air of existence, and said, 'I will do what I will; men shall +say I am a master in the land.' + +"My father sent me away from home for education. I walked with intrepid +mind through the course where others halted, weary, overladen, unfit for +burden. + +"To gain the valedictory oration was one goal that I had said I would +attain to. I did. That was nineteen years ago. I came home in the soft, +hot, August-time. It was the close of the month. The moon was at its +highest flood of light. I was at the highest tide of will-might. That +night, if any one had told me I could not do that which I had a wish to +accomplish, I would have made my desire triumphant, or death would have +been my only conqueror. Oh! it is dreadful to have such a nature handed +down from the dark past, and thrust into one's life, to be battled with, +to be hewn down at last, unless the lightning of God's wrath cleaves +into the spirit and wakes up the volcano, which forever after emits only +fire and sulphur. There's yet one way more, after the lightning-stroke +comes,--something unutterable, something that canopies the soul with +doom, and forever the spirit tries to raise its wings and fly away, but +every uplifting strikes fire, until, singed, scorched, burnt, wings grow +useless, and droop down, never more to be uplifted." + +Mr. Axtell drooped his arms, as if typical of the wings he had +described. Borne away by the excitement of his words, he stood straight +up against the far-away sky, with the verdure of Norway-evergreens +soothingly waving their green around him. There was a magnificence of +mien in the man, that made my spirit say-- + +"The Deity made that man for great deeds." + +He glanced down at the grave once more, and resumed:-- + +"I came home that August night. The prairie of Time rolled out limitless +before my imagination. I built pyramids of fame; I laid the foundation +of Babel once more, in my heart,--for I said, 'My name shall touch the +stars,--my name! Abraham Axtell!' It is only written in earth, ground to +powder, to-day." + +"An atom of earth's powder may be a star to eyes vast enough to see the +fulness that dwells therein, until to angelic vision our planet stands +out a universe of starry suns, each particle of dust luminous with +eternities of limitless space between," I said, as he, pausing, stooped, +and stirred the crisp grass, to outline his name there. + +"All things are possible," he murmured, "but the rending of my mantle of +doom." + +He looked from the tracing of his name to the west. + +"The sun is going down once more," he said, and bowed his head, as one +does, waiting for pastoral benediction. His eyes were fixed now, as I +had seen his sister's held, but his lips poured out words. + +"The moonlight sheened the earth, hot and heavy and still, that night. +My father, mother, and Lettie were in the home where you have seen +sorrow come. Up from the sea came the low, hollow boom of surges rising +over the crust of land. + +"'To the sea, to the sea, let us go!' I cried; 'it is the very night to +tread the hall of moonbeams that leads to palace of pearls!' + +"My mother was weary; she would have stayed at home, but I was her pearl +of price; she forgot herself. You know the stream that comes down from +the mountain and empties into the ocean. It was in that stream that +my boat floated, and a long walk away. Lettie left us. Just after we +started, I missed her, and asked where she had gone. + +"'You'll see soon,' replied my mother; and even as I looked back, I +saw Lettie following, with a shadow other than her own falling on the +midsummer grass. She did not hasten; she did not seek to come up with +us. My mother was walking beside me. + +"Thus we came to the river, at the place where it wanders out into the +ocean. I saw my boat, my River-Ribbon, floating its cable-length, but +never more, and undulating to the throbs of tide that pulsated along +the blue vein of water, heralding the motion of the heart outside. We +stopped there. The moon was set in the firmament high and fast, as when +it was made to rule the night. The hall of light, lit up along the +twinkling way of waters, looked shining and beckoning in its wavy ways +of grace, a very home for the restless spirit. I wanted to thread its +labyrinth of sparkles; I wanted to cool my wings of desire in its +phosphorescent dew. I said,-- + +"'I am going out upon the sea.' + +"My mother seemed troubled. + +"' Abraham, the boat is unsafe; the water comes through. See! it is half +full now'; and she pointed to where it lay in the stream, lined with a +mimic portraiture of the endless corridor of moonlight that went playing +across the bit of water it held. + +"'This is childish, this is folly,' I thought, 'to be stayed on such a +_spirit_ mission by a few cups of water in a boat! What shall I ever +accomplish in life, if I yield thus?--and without waiting to more than +half hear, certainly not to obey, my father's stern 'Stay on shore, +Abraham,' I went down the bank, stepped into a bit of a bark, and pushed +it into the stream, where my boat was now rocking on the strengthened +flow of ocean's rise. + +"I came to the boat, bailed out the water with a tin cup that lay +floating inside, and calling back to land, 'Go home without me; do +not wait,' I took the oars, and in my River-Ribbon, set free from its +anchorage, I commenced rowing against the tide. I looked back to the +bank I was fast leaving. I saw figures standing there. + +"'They'll go home soon,' I said, and I turned my eyes steadfastly toward +the sheeny track, all crimpled and curled with fibrous net-work, and +rowed on. + +"It was a glorious night,--a night when one toss of a mermaid's hair, +made visible above the waters, as she flew along the track I was +pursuing, would have been worth a life of rowing against this incoming +tide. + +"You have never tried to row, Miss Anna. You don't know how hard it is +to push a boat out of a river when the sea sends up full veins to course +the strong arms she reaches up into the land." + +For one moment, as he addressed me, his eyes lost their rapt look; they +went back to it, and he to his story. + +"I saw the fin of a shark dancing in the waves. Sharks were nothing +for me. I did not look down into my boat. No, men never do; they look +_beyond where they are_. They're a sorry race, Miss Anna. + +"The shark went down after some bit of prey more delicious than I. My +will would have been hard for him to manage. I forgot the shark. I +forgot the figures standing, waiting on the shore that I had left, ere +Lettie and the shadow that walked with her, whatever it was, had come to +it. I forgot everything but the phosphorescent dew that would cool my +spirit, athirst for what I knew not, ravenous for refreshment, searching +for manna where it never grew. The plaudits of yesterday were ringing in +my ears, the wavelets danced to their music, my oars kept time to the +vanity measure of my beating mind. Still I was not content. I wanted +something more. A faded flower, an althea-bud, was still pendent from my +coat. I had taken it out from the mass of flowers with which I had been +honored. I noticed it now. The moon dewed it over with its yellowness. +'An offering to the sea-nymphs!' I said, and I cast it forth into the +wide field. It did not go down, as I had fancied it would. No, it went +on, whither the movement of the ceaseless dance of motion carried it. I +leaned upon my oars and watched it until it went out of the illuminated +track. I was now in the bay, outside the river. I looked once more +shoreward. I had threaded the curve of the stream, and could not see +around the point. No living human thing was in sight. I was alone with +Nature in the night, when she looks down glories, and spreads out fields +where we long to walk, and our footsteps are fast in clay. I was not far +from shore; it lay dark behind me; it was only before that I could see. +As I paused in my rowing to watch the althea-bud set afloat, I heard a +tiny splash in the waters. + +"'A school of fish flashing up a moment,' I thought, and did not further +heed it." + +The man looked as if he were now out at sea. He turned his head the +least bit: the effect against the sky was fine. He had an attitude of +watching and listening. + +"I saw an object before me moving on the waters. I looked down. The +water was rising in my own boat. I could not heed it just now. + +"'In a moment,' I thought, 'I would stop to bail it out.' + +"It was a boat that I saw. It moved on so swiftly,--the chime of the +oars, tiny oars they were, was so sweetly, softly musical, the very +drippling drops fell so like globules of silver, that I forgot my +mission. I held my oars and waited. At last--how long it seemed!--I saw +the boat come into the bridge of light. I saw fair, golden hair let +loose to the sea-breezes that began to blow. I saw two hands striving +with the oars. I saw the owner of the hair and of the hands, a young +girl, sitting in that boat, coming right across the way where I ought +to be going. "'Does she mean to stay me?' I said, and even then my will +rose up. + +"I bent to the oars; but whilst I had watched her, my boat had been +rapidly filling. I was forced to stay. My feet were already in the +waves. Right across my pathway she came, close up to my filling boat. + +"Her eyes were in the shadow, the moon being behind, but her voice rang +out these words:-- + +"'Mr. Axtell, you're committing a great sin. You're putting your own +life in peril. You're killing your mother. I have come to stay you. Will +you come on shore?' + +"I only looked at her. When I found voice, it was to ask,-- + +"'Who are you?' + +"'Who I am doesn't matter now. Drowning men mustn't ask questions'; and, +putting one oar within my boat, now more than half filled, she drew her +own to its side, and said,--"'Come in.' + +"'Conquered by a woman,' I thought. 'Never!'--and I began to search for +the cup, that I might give back to the sea its intruding contents. + +"I had left it in the other boat. + +"'Conquered by thine own sin,' said the young girl, still holding fast +to my boat. + +"'Not so easily, fairy, or whoe'er thou art,' I said; for I saw that her +boat was well furnished with both bailing-bowl and sponge, and I reached +out for them, saying, 'I'm going on the track, farther out.' + +"She divined my intent, and quick as was my thought were her two hands; +she cast both bowl and sponge into the sea. + +"'Mr. Axtell,' she said; 'there's a power in the world greater than your +own. The sooner you yield, the less you'll feel the thorns. Your mother, +on the shore, is suffering agonies for you. Will you come into this +boat, now?' + +"The boats had floated around a little, and had changed places. I looked +into her eyes; there was nothing there that said, 'I'm trying to conquer +you.' There was something in them that I had never seen made visible on +earth before,--something radiant, with a might of right, that made me +yield. She saw that I was coming. I lifted my feet out of the inches of +water that had nearly filled it, put my oars across her tiny boat, and, +leaving my own River-Ribbon to its fate, I entered that wherein my +preserver had come out. I took the oars from her passive hands; she went +to the front of the boat and left me master of the small ship. I turned +its prow homeward. My preserver sat motionless, her eyes in the moon, +for aught of notice she took of me. I was going toward the river; she +bade me keep to the bay-shore, at the right. I obeyed. No more words +were spoken until we were almost to land. I saw a little bulb afloat. +The boat went near. I put out my oar and drew it in. It was the +althea-bud that I had offered to the sea-nymphs. + +"'The mermaids refuse my offering,' I said; 'will you accept it?'--and +I handed it, dripping with salt-water, to the fairy who sat so silently +before me. + +"She took it, pointed to a little sheltered cove between two outstanding +ledges of rock, and said,-- + +"'This is boatie's home,--see if you can guide her safely in.' + +"The keel grated on the gravelly beach, the boat struck home. The young +girl did not wait for me, she landed first, and, handing me a tiny key, +said,-- + +"'Draw my boat up out of reach of the tide, make it fast, please,'--and +she sped away into the dreamy darkness of the land, whose shadows the +moon did not yet reach, leaving me alone on the shore. + +"I obeyed her orders implicitly, and then followed. It was not far from +this sheltered cove that I met those with whom I had come. My mother was +sitting upon one of the sea-shore rocks, passive, but stony. The young +girl had just been speaking to her, she must have been saying that 'I +was come back,' but my mother had not heeded. It was only in sight that +her reason came, but, oh! such a deluge of gladness came to her when she +saw me! + +"'I was dying,' she said; 'you've come back to save me, Abraham.' + +"My father did not speak then, he lifted my mother from off the stone, +and together we three walked home. Lettie lingered, the shadow with her. +Was that the young girl? I could not quite discern." + +Mr. Axtell stopped in his narration, walked out of the village of Dead +Percivals, and to his mother's new-made grave. He came back soon. + +"Miss Percival," he said, "two days ago you said, 'it was the strangest +thing that ever you saw man do, to dig his mother's grave.' It was a +work begun long ago; the first stroke was that August night; it is +nearly nineteen years ago. What do you think of it now?" + +"As I thought then, Mr. Axtell." + +He stood near me now. He went on. + +"That young girl saved my life that night, Miss Percival. Ere we reached +home, a violent, sudden thunder-storm came down, with wind and rain, and +terrible strokes of lightning. We took shelter in another house than +home. Lettie and my preserver followed." + +Another long pause came, a gathering together of the forces of his +nature, typical of the still hotness of the August night of which he +spoke, and after the ominous rest he emitted ponderous words. They came +like crackles of rattling electricity. I could taste it. + +"Miss Percival, look at me one moment." + +I obeyed. + +"Do I look like a murderer?" + +"I don't know." + +"Don't turn your eyes away; do you know what certain words in this world +mean?" + +"Signal one, and I will answer." + +He looked so leonic that I felt the least bit in the world like running +away, but decided to stay, as he was just within my pathway of escape. + +"Do you know what it is, what it means, when a human soul calls out from +its highest heights to another mortal, 'Thou art mine'?" + +I do not think he expected an answer, but I answered a round, full, +truthful, "No." + +"Then let it be the theme of thanksgiving," he said. "That fair young +girl is here now. I feel her sacred presence. She does not save me from +my imperious will. + +"Do you know, Miss Percival," he suddenly resumed, "do you know that you +are here with Abraham Axtell, a man who has destroyed two lives: one +slowly, surely, through years of suffering; the other, oh! the other--by +a flash from God's wrath, and for eighteen years my soul has cried out +to her, 'Thou art mine,' and yet there is no response on earth, there +can be none? Would you know the name of my preserver that night, +come,"--and, bending down, he offered his hand to assist me in rising. + +I had no faith in this man's murderousness, whatever he might have done. +He led me around to the head-stone of the grave which he had asked my +knowledge of. Before I could see, he passed his hand across my eyes: how +cold it was! + +"When you see the name recorded here," he said, "you will know who saved +me that August night, whom my terrible will destroyed, drinking her +young life up in one fell cup." + +His hand was withdrawn for one moment; my sight was blinded with the +cold pressure on my eyes; then I read,-- + + MARY, + DAUGHTER OF + JULIUS AND MARY PERCIVAL, + + DIED + AUGUST 30th, 1843, + AGED + 17 YEARS. + +"My sister," I said + +"Your sister, whom I killed." + +"Ere I was old enough to know her." + +"Have you one drop of mercy for him who destroyed your sister?" he +asked,--and his haughty will was suffused in pleading. + +I thought of the third figure in the celestial picture, as it gazed upon +the outstretched hand, and I said,-- + +"God hath not made me your judge; why should I refuse mercy?" + +A flash of intuition came. The young girl, whose portrait was in the +house of the Axtells, whose face had been next my mother's, who asked me +to do something for her on the earth,--could they all be manifestations +of Mary? + +"Who painted the portrait in your house?" I asked. + +"My will," he said; "I am no artist." + +"Is it like Mary?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I have this day seen her." + +He looked up, great tears falling from his eyes, and asked,-- + +"Where?" + +I took him to the gallery of the clouds, and showed him my vision, and +repeated the words spoken to me up there, the words for him only,--the +others were full of mystery still. He held seemingly no part therein. + +"Will a murderer's prayer add one ray of joy to the angel who has come +out on the sea to save me,--me, twice saved, oh! why?"--and Mr. Axtell +laid his hand upon my head in blessing. + +"Twice saved," I said, "that the third salvation may be Christ's." + +Solemnly came the "Amen" from his lips, tremulous as the bridge of light +he had once passed over. + +"Good-bye, Mr. Axtell; I shall fulfil Mary's wish for you, if you will +let me;" and I offered him my hand for this second parting: the first +had been when he went out alone to his mother's burial. + +He looked at it, as he then had done, uncomprehending, and said only,-- + +"Will I let you?" + +He gathered up the cushion, and carried it to the church. I closed the +gate that shut in this silent city, and went to the parsonage. + + * * * * * + +The sun had gone down,--the night was coming on. I found Aaron pacing +the verandah with impatient steps. He asked where I had been. I told +him. + +"It is very well that you are going so soon," he said,--"you are getting +decidedly ghostly. Will you take a walk with me?" + +I was thankful for the occasion. As might have been expected, Aaron +chose the way that led to the solemn old house. I was amused. + +"Where are you going?" I questioned. + +"To inquire after our early-morning patient," he said. + +"And not to see Mrs. Aaron Wilton?" + +Aaron looked the least mite retributive, as he said,-- + +"Anna, there are mysteries in life." + +"As, why Aaron was chosen before Moses," I could not help suggesting. +Sophie had had an opportunity of being Mrs. Moses, instead of Mrs. +Aaron. + +"Sophie's wise; you are not, Anna, I fear." + +"Your fear may be the beginning of my wisdom, Aaron: I hope so." + +With the exception of a return to the subject on which Aaron had +questioned me at breakfast, and on which he elicited no further +information from me, nothing of interest occurred until we were within +the place that held Sophie's pearly self. + +She had been a shower of sunshine, letting fall gold and silver drops +through all the house. I saw them, heard their sweet glade-like music +rippling everywhere, the moment that I went in. + +Mr. Axtell was pacing the hall in the evening twilight, and the little +of lamp-lustre that was shed into it. + +He looked passively calm, heroically enduring, as we went past him. From +his eyes came scintillations of a joy whose root is not in our planet. + +He simply said,-- + +"Mrs. Wilton is with my sister; she will be glad to see you." + +We went on. Sophie had made a very nest of repose in the sick-room. Miss +Axtell looked so comfortable, so untired of life, so changed from the +first glimpse I had had of her, when I thought her face might be such as +would be found under Dead-Sea waves. There was no more of the anxious +unrest. She spoke to Mr. Wilton, thanking him for the "good gift," she +named Sophie, that he had lent to her. + +Miss Lettie called me to her. She wished to say something to me only. I +bent my head to listen. + +"I am ill," she said,--"better just now, but I feel that it will be +weeks before I shall leave this place; it is good for me to be here, but +this troubles me,--I don't like to think that I must take care of it; +will you guard it sacredly for me?--and the letter of last night, add it +to the others." + +She gave me a small package, carefully closed, and I saw that it was +sealed. + +From her manner, I fancied it was to be known to me alone, and, +concealing it, I said,-- + +"I will keep it securely for you." + +Sophie came playfully up, and said,-- + +"Now, Anna, I'm empress here; no secret negotiations to overthrow my +power." + +"I'm just going to say good-bye to Miss Axtell," I said, "for I am going +home to-morrow;" and I told her of the letter from father, that I had +received. + +Sophie got up a charming storm of regret and wrath, neither at my father +for sending for me, nor at myself for going, but for the mysterious +third personality that created the need for my departure. + +Miss Lettie seemed to regret my coming absence still more than Sophie. + +"I wanted you so much," she said; "if I had only had you long ago, life +would have been changed," she whispered again, as Sophie turned to +listen to some pretty nonsense that the grave minister poured into her +ears through those windings of softly purplish hair. + +"Will you make me one promise, only one?" said Miss Axtell. + +I hesitated,--for promises are my religious fear, I do not like to +make promises. They are like mile-stones to a thunder-storm. They note +distances when the spirit is anxious only to cycle time and space. + +She looked so earnest, so persuasive, that I yielded, and said that +"consistency should be my only requirement." + +"It is not so immensely inconsistent, my Anemone; it is only that I want +you to come back again. Two weeks will satisfy your father. Will you +come to me on the twenty-fifth of March?" + +"What for?" with my awkward persistency in questioning, I asked. + +"Why, because I want to see you,--I wish you to write a letter for +me,--and more than all, I want an advocate." + +I, smiling at the triplet of occasions, promised to come, if consistent. + +Sophie was going home. She came up to drop a few last cheery words, to +fall into the coming hours of night. + +"You see how you've spoiled me by kindness, Mrs. Wilton," Miss Lettie +said. "I presume still further: I would like to see old Chloe; it is a +long, long time since I've seen her. Would you let her come?" Sophie +said that "it would renew Chloe's youth; she certainly would send her." + +Good-byes were spoken, and we went down. Mr. Axtell was still treading +the hall below. He thanked Sophie for her kindness to Miss Lettie, shook +hands genially with Aaron, looked at me, and we were gone. + +I carried Miss Lettie's message to Chloe. She lifted up those great +African orbs of hers as she might have done to the Mountains of the Moon +in her native land. + +"Now the heavens be praised!" said the honest soul,--"what for can that +icy lady want to see old Chloe?" + +I had carried the message under cover of one from my own heart. I knew +that Chloe had lived with my mother until she died. I knew that she must +know something regarding Mary, my sister, to whom, in all my life, I had +scarcely given one thought, who died ere I was wise enough to know her. +And so I began by asking,-- + +"Am I like my sister who died, Chloe?" + +She brought back her eyes from gazing upon the lunar mountains. + +"I don't know's you are 'xactly; but somehow you _did_ look like her, +up-stairs to-day, when you had them white things tied on your head." + +"Were you here when she died?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes!"--old Chloe closed her eyes,--"it is one of the blessed things +Chloe's Lord will let her 'member, up there;" and Chloe wiped her eyes, +_in memoriam_. + +"I don't remember her," I said. + +"No, how should you? you were wee little then." + +"What made her die, Chloe?" + +"I reckon 't was because the angels wanted her more 'n me, Miss Anna." + +"Was she sick, Chloe?" + +"How queer you questions, Miss Anna! Of course she was sick; she drooped +in the August heat; they didn't think she was very sick; the master gave +her some medicine one night, and left her sleeping, quiet as a lamb, and +before morning came she went to heaven." + +"Who was the master, Chloe?" + +"Why, you _is_ getting stupid-like, child! Honey darling, don't you +know that Master Percival, your father, was my master ever so many +years?"--and she began notating them upon her fingers. + +I interrupted the mathematical calculation by telling Chloe that three +people were waiting for their tea. + +"Two of 'em is my dear childers," said Chloe,--who never would accept +Aaron, even with all his goodness, into her heart; and she moved about +with accelerated velocity in her daily orbit. + +What could Mr. Axtell have meant by saying that he had killed Mary, +who, Chloe had assured me, died peaceably in her father's house? After +disturbing the equilibrium of thought-realm, and nearly giving my mind a +new axis of revolution, I decided to think no more of it. I could +not, would not, believe that Abraham Axtell had gone up any Moriah of +sacrifice, and been permitted to let fall the knife upon his victim. His +life must have been a dream, an illusion; he only wanted awakening to +existence. And the memory of my Sabbath-morning's vision dwelt with me, +and the voice that speaketh, filling the soul "as a sea-shell is with +murmuring," said, "Your finger will awaken him." And I looked down at +my two passive hands, and asked, "Which one of them?" And the murmuring +voice startled me with the answer, "Two are required,--one of +reconciliation, the other of forgiveness." Whereupon I lifted up the ten +that Nature gave, and said, "Take them all, if need be."---- + +"Tea is ready," said Aaron, peeping in, his face alive with satisfied +muscles, playing too merry a tune of joy, I thought, for a grave +minister. + +"Sophie's a magician," I thought for the thousandth time, as, for the +millionth, Aaron looked at her sitting so demurely regal at his spread +table. + +"What would these two good people say," I asked myself, in thinking, +"if they knew all that I have learned in my visit, not yet a week +long?"--and I ran up and down in the scale of semibreves and minims that +I had heard, with the one long, sweet trill transfusing life on earth +into heavenly existence, and I felt very wingy, very much as if I could +take up the tower, standing high and square out there, and carry it, +"like Loretto's chapel, through the air to the green land," where my +spirit would go singing evermore. I could not tell what my joy was like: +not unto anything that I had seen upon the earth; under the earth I had +not yet been; only once above it, and they were calmly celestial there. +I was turbulently joyous, and so I winged a little while around Sophie +and Aaron, hummed a good-night in Chloe's ears, and found that the canny +soul was luxuriating in the idea that the icy lady was to be thawed into +the acceptance of sundry confections which she was basketing to carry +with her when I went out. + +"Call me early," I said; "you know I leave at seven o'clock." + +"I shall be up ever so early, Miss Anna; never fear for Chloe's sleeping +late to-morrow in the morning; you get ever so much,--'nuff for Chloe +and you too; good-night, honey!"--and Chloe went on her mission, whilst +Aloes and Honey went up-stairs, past Aaron's study, and into a room +where the mysterious art of packing must be practised for a little. + +I thought of the "breadths of silver and skirts of gold" that I had seen +the Day pack away; and, inspired with the thought, fell to folding less +amberous raiment, until, my duty done, I pressed the cover down, and +locked my treasures in, for the journey of the morrow. Then I took out +my sacred gift to guard, and, laying it before me, looked at it. It was +of dimensions scarcely larger than the moon,--that is, extremely variant +and uncertain: to one, a planet, larger than Jupiter, moons and all; to +another, scarcely more than a bridal ring. So my packet was of uncertain +size: _undoubtedly_ the tower was packed away in it, Herbert too,--and I +couldn't help agreeing with my thought, and confessing that this was a +better form for conveyance than that I so lately had planned; so I put +it safely away, with myself, until the day should come. The day-star had +arisen in my heart. Would it ever go down? Not whilst He who holdeth the +earth in the hollow of His hand hath me there too. Reaching out, once +more, for the strong protective fibres that had so blessed me, I +wandered forth with it into the land whose mural heights are onychites +and mocha-stones of mossy mystery. + +How long I might have lingered there I know not,--so delicious was the +fragrance and so fair the flowers,--had not Chloe's voice broken the +mocha-stones, scattering the mosses like autumn-leaves. + +"Honey, I thought I'd waken ye,--the day is just cracking," said Chloe, +at the door, and she asked me to open it one moment. + +When I had done so, there she stood, just as I had seen her when I bade +her good-night,--save that her basket was void of contents. + +"Master Abraham didn't know you was going home," Chloe said, "or he'd +have told you good-bye; and I guesses he sent what he didn't tell, for +he asked me to give you this." + +When Chloe was gone, I opened the small package. It was a pretty casket, +made of the margarite of the sea. Within it lay a faded, fallen, +fragmentary thing. At first, I knew not what it could be. It was the +althea-bud that grew in the summer-time of eighteen years ago, that +had been Mary's,--and my heart beat fast as I looked upon the silent +voicefulness that spake up to me, and said, "To you, who have restored +him to himself, he offers the same tribute;" and I lifted up the +iridescent, flashing cradle of margarite, and reverently touched +the ashes of althea it held with my lips. Afterwards they were +salt,--whether with the saltness of the sea the bud had been baptized +in, or of the tears that I let fall, I knew not. + +I folded up my good-bye from Mr. Axtell in the same precious package +that was his sister's, and, side by side, the two journeyed on with me. + + * * * * * + +It was seven of the clock on Monday morning when she who said the +naughty words, and the grave minister, came out to say farewell to me. +The day's great round was nearly done ere I met my father's flowery +welcome. + +"My Myrtle-Vine, I knew you'd come," said Dr. Percival; and his long +gray hair floated out to reach me in, and his eyes, wherein all love +burned iridescent, drew me toward his heart. + +My father put his arms around me, and said the sweetest words of welcome +that ever are spoken. + +"How I've missed you, Anna!" as he drew me toward his large arm-chair, +and folded me, his latest child, to his heart. + +As thus we were sitting in the silence of the heart that needs no +language, little Jeffy, my ebony-beauty boy, darted his black head +in, and reposing it for one instant against the scarcely lighter-hued +mahogany of the door, jingled out, in shells of sound,-- + +"He's mighty fur'ous. It's real fun. I guess you'd better come right up, +Dr. Percival;" and the ebon head darted off, without one word for me. + +Why was it that this little omission of Jeffy's, the African boy, should +create a vacancy? Oh! it is because Nature made me so exacting. I wanted +everybody to welcome me. + +I lifted my head from my father's shoulder, and asked, in some dismay,-- + +"What is it, father?" + +"I've gotten myself in trouble, Anna. I've let chaos into my house. I +wanted you to help me." + +"What is it? what has happened?" I hastened to inquire. + +"Only a hospital patient that I was foolish enough to bring away. I +heartily wish that he was back again," said my father; and he put me +from him to go, in obedience to the summons. + +I was about to follow him, but he waved me back as I went into the hall, +and he went on. I heard the ring of a low, frenzied laugh, as I began +unwrapping from my journey. My casket of treasures I had committed to +bands for keeping. Now I laid it down, and, folding up my protective +robes, I had just gone to try my father's easy-chair, alone, when +Jeffy's ebon head struck in again. + +"I didn't see ye afore, Miss Anna. I'so mighty glad you've come;" and +Jeffy atoned for his former omission by his present joy. + +"How is he?" I questioned Jeffy, as if I knew all the antecedents of the +case perfectly. + +"Oh, he's jolly to-night. I think Master Percival might have let me stay +to see the fun;" and Jeffy's eyes rolled to and fro in their orbits, as +if anxious to strike against some wandering comet. + +"Is tea over?" I asked. + +"No, miss. Master said he'd wait for you. I'll go and tell that you're +here;" and Jeffy took himself off, eager for action. + +He was not long gone. + +"It's all ready, waiting a bit for master. He can't come down just this +minute," said Jeffy. "Look a here, Miss Anna,--isn't it vastly funny +master's bringing a crazy man here? They say down in the kitchen, that +as how it wouldn't 'a' been, if you'd been home. It's real good, though. +It's the splendidest thing that's happened. Wait till you see him +perform. Ask him to sing. It's frolicky to hear him." + +The boy went on, and I did not stop him. I was as anxious for +information as he to impart it. When he paused for breath, in the width +of detail that he furnished, I asked,-- + +"When was this stranger brought here?" + +"Three days ago, Miss Anna, I hope he'll stay forever and ever;" and +Jeffy darted off at a mellifluous sound that dropped down from above. + +"There! he has thrown the poker at the mirror again, I do believe," said +another voice in the hall, and I recognized the housekeeper. + +Staid Mrs. Ordilinier came in to greet me, with the uniform greeting of +her lifetime. I verily believe that she has but one way of receiving. +Electricity and bread-and-butter would meet the same recognitory +reception. + +"Did you hear that noise, Miss Anna?" she said, as another sound came, +that was vastly like the shivering of glass. + +"What was it, Mrs. Ordilinier?" + +I gave her the question to gain information. I sought it,--but she, not +disposed to gratify me at the moment, slowly ascended to ascertain the +state of mirrors above. She met my father's silver hairs coming down. He +did not say one word to her. He met me in the hall, took me back to the +room, and, reseating me in my olden place, put his hand upon my head, +and said,-- + +"This must help me, Anna." + +"It will, papa; what is it?" + +"I've a crazy man up-stairs. He can't do very much harm, for he is badly +injured." + +"How?" I asked. + +"Railroad accident. Four days ago, locomotive and two passenger-cars off +the track, down forty feet upon the rocks and stones, and all there was +of a river," my father replied, with evident regret that the company had +been so unfortunate, as well as his individual self. + +"Who is it?" was my next question. + +"Don't know, darling; haven't the least idea. He has the softest brown, +curling hair of his own, with a wig over it. Can't find out his name, or +anything about him. I like him, though, Anna. He's like somebody! used +to know. I brought him here from the hospital, several days ago, but he +hasn't given me much peace since, and the people down below think I'm as +crazy as he; but I cannot help it; I will not turn him out now." + +"Of course you wouldn't, father. We'll manage him superbly. I'll chain +him for you." + +My father rose up, comforted by my words, and said "it was time for +tea." We went down. I was the Sophie of Aaron's home, at my father's +table. + +"Papa," I said, as if introducing the most ordinary topic of +conversation, "what was the occasion of sister Mary's death? She was +only seventeen. How young to die!" + +My father sighed, and said,-- + +"Yes, it was young. She had fever, Anna. One of those long, low fevers +that mislead one. I did not think she would die." + +"Was Mary engaged to be married, father?" + +Dr. Percival looked up at his daughter Anna with the look that says, +"You're growing old," although she was twenty-three, and never had gone +so far in life as his eldest daughter at seventeen. + +"She was, Anna." + +"To whom, father?" + +"Perhaps you've seen him, Anna. I hear that he is come home. His name is +Axtell,--Abraham Axtell." + +I told my father of the first words,--where we had found him, tolling +the bell,--and of his mother's death, and his sister's illness. + +"Incomprehensible people!" was my father's sole ejaculation, as he went +to look after the deranged patient. + +I occupied myself for an hour in picking up the reins of government that +I had thrown down when I went to Redleaf. Looking into "our room," +and not finding father there, I went on, up to my own room. A warm, +welcoming fire burned within the grate. I thought, "How good father is +to think for me!" and with the thought there entered in another. It came +in the sudden consciousness that the room was prepared for some one else +than me. I glanced about it, and saw the strange, wild man, with eyes +all aglow, looking at me from out the depths of my wonted place of rest. +No one else was in the room. I turned around to leave, but, dropping my +precious box of margarite, I stooped to pick it up. + +"It is a good harbor to sail into. I'm content," said the voice from the +corner, before I could escape. + +I met father coming in. + +"Why, how is this?" he said to me. + +"You didn't tell me you had given up my room," I said. + +"Didn't I? Well, I forgot. We couldn't take him higher." + +"Is he so much hurt?" I asked. + +"Three broken bones," my father replied. "It will be weeks, it may be +months, before he will be well;" and he sighed hopelessly at the good +deed, which, being done, pressed so heavily. "Don't look so sadly about +it, Myrtle-Vine," he added; "take my room, if you like." + +"That was not my thought," I said. "I do not mind the change of room." + +The visit to Redleaf, which I had made to dawn in my horizon, was +eclipsed by three broken bones, that suddenly undermined the arch of +consistency. + +Soothingly came the words that were spoken unto me. My father was +all-willing to relinquish his cherished room,--his for sixteen years, +and opening into that mysterious other room,--to give it up to me, his +Myrtle-Vine; and a momentary pang that any interest in existence should +be, except as circling around him, flew across the future, "the science +whereof is to man but what the shadow of the wind might be,"--and I +looked up into his eyes, and, twining his long white hair around my +fingers, for a moment felt that forever and forever he should be the +supreme object of earthly devotion. In my wish to evince the sentiment +in action, I requested permission to assist in the care of the hospital +patient. + +"Oh, no, Anna! he is too wild now. When the excitement of the fever is +gone, then will be your time." + +Another of those many-toned, circling peals of laughter came from my +room. My father went in. I went past the place that mortal eyes were not +permitted to fathom, and, for the first time in my life, was curious to +know its contents, and why I had never seen the interior thereof, I had +grown up with the mystery, until I had accepted it, unquestioning, as a +thing not for my view, and therefore out of recognition. It was as far +away from me as the open sea of the North, and might contain the mortal +remains of all the navigators of Hope that ever had wandered into the +sea of Time for him who so holily guarded it. + +"One far-away Indian-summery day, four years agone," "while yet the day +was young," Dr. Percival, my father, had led an azure-eyed maiden in +through the mysterious entrance, and shown unto her the veiled temple, +its altar and its shrine, and she had come thence with the dew of +feeling in her eyes and a purple haze around her brow, which she has +worn there until it has tangled its pansy-web into an abiding-place, +unto such time as the light is shut out forever, or the waves from the +silver sea curl their mist up thither. I had much marvel then concerning +the hidden mysteries; but Sophie so soon thereafter spake the naughty "I +will," that the silent room forgot to speak to me. I have never heard +sound thence since that morning-time. + +"Why does not my father take me in? Am I not his child, even as Sophie?" + +I asked these questions of Anna Percival, the while she stood at an +upper window, and looked out over New York's surging lines of life. +The roar of rolling wheels came muffled by distance and the shore of +dwelling-places over which I looked. I counted the church-spires that +threaded the vault of night a little of the upward way. How angels, that +have lived forever in heaven, and souls just free from material things, +must reach down to touch these towering masts, that tell which way the +sails of spirit bend! These city churches, dedicated with solemn service +unto the worship of the great I AM, the Lord God of Adam, the Jehovah +Jireh of Israelites, the Holy Redeemer of Christians,--may the Lord of +heaven and earth bless them _every one_! I looked forth upon them with +tears. There never comes a time, in the busiest hurry of human ways, +that I do not sprinkle a drop of love upon the steps as I pass,--that I +do not wind a tendril of holy feeling up to height of tower or summit of +spire for the great winds to waft onward and upward. God pity the heart +that does not involuntary reverence to God's templed places, made sacred +a thousand fold by every penitential tear, by every throb of devotion, +by every aspiration after the divine existence, from which let down a +little while, we wander, for what we know not! God doth not tell, save +that it is to "love first Him, Sole and Individual," and then the +fragments, the crumbs of Divinity that dwell in Man. + +I had not lighted the gas. The street-lamps sent up their rays, making +the room semi-lucent. I took out my tower-key. What matter, if I held +the cold iron thereof to my lips awhile? there was no frost in the March +air then. I sent my restless fingers in and out of the wards, prisoning +them often therein. As thus I stood, with cheek pressed against the +windowpane, looking out upon the city, set into a rim of darkness, from +out of which it flashed its million rays, papa came up. + +"I didn't say good-night," he said, coming in, and to the window where +I was. "But how is this, Anna? what has happened to my child? "--and he +pointed to shining drops that glistened on the window-glass. + +They must have come from my eyes; I could not deny their authorship, and +so I confessed to tears of gladness at seeing him once more. + +He looked fondly down at me through the dim light. I asked him after the +tenant of my premises. He shook his head as one does in great doubt, +said "life was uncertain," and repeated several other axioms, that were +quite apart from his original style, and excessively annoying to me. + +"Papa," I said, "why not tell me truly? will this man recover?" + +"'Man proposes, God disposes,' my child," he said. + +"I don't dispute the general truth," I replied,--"but, particularly, is +this man's life in danger?" + +He began to quote somebody's psalm or hymn about "fitful fevers and +fleeting shadows." + +My father has a fine, rich, variant power of sound with which to charm +such as have ears to hear, and Anna Percival has been so endowed. +Therefore she listened and waited to the end. When it came, she looked +up into her father's face and said,-- + +"Papa, I am not a child, to be coaxed into forgetfulness; why will you +not trust me? I am older than Sophie was when you took her in where I +have not been; why will you not make me your friend?"--and some sudden +collision of watery powers among the window-drops, whether from +accretion or otherwise, sent a glistening rivulet down to the barrier of +the sash. + +Papa folded his arms, and looked at me. I could not bear to be thus shut +out. I said so. + +"Could you bear to be shut in?" he thought, and asked it. + +"I think I could. I could bear anything that you gave me; I could keep +anything that you intrusted to my keeping." + +Papa looked at me as one does at a cherished vine the outermost edges of +which are just frost-touched; then he folded me to his heart. I felt the +throbbings thereof, and mine began to regret that I had intruded into +the vestibule of his sacred temple; but a certain something went +whispering within me, "You can feed the sacred fire," and I whispered to +the whispering voice, and to my father's ear,-- + +"You'll take me in, won't you?" + +"Come," was the only spoken word. + +The room was not cheery; he felt it, and said,-- + +"You see what the effect is when my Myrtle-Vine is off my walls;" and he +tossed aside books and papers that had evidently been astray for days, +and lay now in his way. + +Papa took a key (he wears it too, it seems: that is even more than I do +with my tower's) from a tiny chain of gold about his neck, and unlocked +the door connecting this silent room with his own. He went in, leaving +me outside. He lighted a candle and left it burning there. He came, took +my hand, and, with the leading whereby we guide a child, conducted me in +thither. Then he went out and left me standing, bewildered, there. + +I had anticipated something wonderful. What was here? It was a silent +room. The carpet had a river-pattern meandering over its dark-blue +ground: it must have been years since a broom went over it. Strange +medley of furniture was here. I looked upon the walls. Pictures that +must have come from another race and generation hung there. There were +many of them. One side of the room held one only. It was a portrait. I +remembered the original in life. "My mother," I exclaimed. In the room's +centre, surrounded by various articles, was the very boat that I knew +Mary Percival had guided out to sea to save Abraham Axtell. Two tiny +oars lay across it. The paint was faded; the seams were open; it would +hold water no longer. A sense of worship filled me. I looked up at the +portrait. My mother smiled: or was it my fancy? Fancy undoubtedly; but +fancies give comfort sometimes. I looked again at the boat. On its +stern, in small, golden letters, was the name, "Blessing of the Bay," +the very name given to the first boat built after the Mayflower's keel +touched America's shore. "The name was a good omen," I thought. An +armchair stood before the portrait. A shawl was spread over it. I lifted +up the fringe to see what the shawl covered. Papa had come in. + +"Don't do that, Anna," he said. + +"Is it any harm, papa?" + +"Your mother died sitting in that chair; her hands spread the shawl over +it; it was the last work they did, Anna; it has never since been taken +off." + +I dropped the fringe; my touch seemed sacrilegious. + +Near the chair was a small cabinet; it looked like an altar, or would +have done so, had my father been a devotee to any religion requiring +visible sacrifice. He opened it. + +"Come hither, Anna,"--and I went. + +Long, luxuriant bands of softly purplish hair lay within, upon the place +of sacrifice. + +"Sophie's is like this," I said. + +"And Sophie wears one like unto this," said my father; and he took up +a circlet of shining gold that lay among the tresses. "Sophie's +marriage-ring was hallowed unto her. I gave it the morning she went out +from me." He uttered these words with slow reverence of voice. + +Why did self come up? + +"You gave Sophie _our_ mother's marriage-ring," I said, "and I"-- + +"Shall wear this," said my father. "I laid it here, with hers;" and he +gently lifted the sacred hair, and, freeing the ring, put it upon my +finger. + +"This is not my marriage-day," I said. "Papa, I don't want it. Besides, +gentlemen don't wear marriage-rings: how came you to?" + +"Perhaps I have not worn this one; but will you wear it to please me?" + +"Why will it please you? It is not symbolical, is it?" + +"It makes you doubly mine," he said; and he led me back to outside life, +with this strange sort of marriage-ring circling with its planet weight +around my finger. + +Did my father mean to keep me forever? And with the question came an +answer that left sweet contentment in its pathway; it accorded with the +intent of my heart. + +"Father, have you made me your friend?" I asked, in the room that was +terribly tossed, as I restored to place chairs that seemed to have been +in a deplorably long dance, and to have forgotten their home at its +close. + +"You wear my ring, you have come into my orbit," he answered. + +"That being true, I am as much interested in the flying comet in there +as you are,--for if it strikes you, it hurts me;" and I waited his +answer. + +After a moment of pause, it came. + +"My poor patient is very ill; his life will burn out, if the fever is +not stayed;" and as the frenzied laugh reached us, Dr. Percival forgot +my presence; he passed his hand slowly across his brow, as if to retouch +memory, and then taking down a volume, he began to read. I waited long. +At last he closed the book suddenly, said to himself, "I'll try it," and +in half a moment my father's white hairs were separated from me by the +impassable barrier of the sick-room. + +I waited; he did not come. The chairs were not the only articles that +had lost the commodity of order in my absence. I went to the table upon +which were kept the papers, etc., that lingered there a little while, +and then were thought no longer of. Idly I turned them over. What a +chaos on a small scale! all the elements of literature were represented. +I listened for coming footsteps; none came. "I may as well arrange this +table," I thought, "as wait for the morrow;" and I made a beginning by +sweeping the chaos at once upon the carpet. Then slowly I began picking +them up, one by one, and appointing them stations. My task was nearly +done, when, in turning over some magazines, I came upon a pile of papers +that had been laid between the leaves of one, and ere I was aware of +their presence, they slid down and scattered. I remember having felt +a little surprise that my father should have left them there, but I +hastened to gather them together. The last one of the number, I noticed, +was torn; it had a foreign look. "Father has some new correspondent," I +thought, as I looked at the number of mail-marks upon it. "He doesn't +think much of it, though, or it would have received better treatment;" +and I took a second look at it. A something in the feel of the paper +seemed familiar. "It is good for nothing," I said aloud, and I tossed +it toward the grate, put the pile of papers where I had found them, +surveyed my work with satisfaction, and stood thinking whether or not I +should wait to see my father again--it was more than an hour since +he went up--to say good-night to me. "I will wait a half-hour; if he +doesn't come then, I'll go," I said to the housekeeper, who came to see +that all was right for the night, and to remind me that Redleaf had not +proved very advantageous to my complexion, and to recommend early hours +as a restorative. + +In accordance with my promise, I drew a chair forward, placed my feet +upon the fender, and began to study the dying embers that were slowly +falling through the grate-bars. One, larger than usual, burned its way +down. It lighted up, for an instant, the bit of paper, that had not +fallen into the coals. Strange fancy it was that led me to imagine +that I saw a capital A, followed immediately by that unknown quantity +represented by x. I made an effort to gain it, scorched my face, and +burned my fingers; for I touched the grate, in rescuing that which I had +cast into the place of burning. + +"This bit of paper, found in New York, had once been integral with that +I had found within the church-yard tower in Redleaf," some inner +voice assured me. "Yes, it is a part of it," I said, for I distinctly +remembered the fragment whose possession I had so rejoiced over. Some +one had written a letter to Miss Axtell; the envelope was torn,--one +part there, another here. The letter itself I had found in the gloom of +the passage-way; for it Miss Axtell had gone out to search, ill, and in +the night; what must its contents have been, to have been worthy of such +effort?--and for the time I quite forgot to connect this man, ill in my +father's house, with the Herbert whose far-out-at-sea voice I had heard +winding up at me through the very death-darkness of the tower. Suddenly +the consciousness scintillated in my soul, and wonderful it was; but the +picture of my dream came in with it, and I said again, "I am ready for +the work which is given me to do," and I waited for its coming till +I grew very weary, holding this fragment of envelope fast, as a ship +clings to its anchor in mild seas. I ventured to knock at the entrance +of my own room. All was silent within. I tried the second time. There +came no answer. I dared not venture on the conquering third. + + * * * * * + + +AT SYRACUSE. + + + All day my mule with patient tread + Had moved along the plain, + Now o'er the lava's ashen bed, + Now through the sprouting grain, + Across the torrent's rocky lair, + Beneath the aloe-hedge, + Where yellow broom makes sweet the air, + And waves the purple sedge. + + Lone were the hills, save where supine + The dozing goatherd lay, + Or, at a rude and broken shrine, + The peasant knelt to pray; + Or where athwart the distant blue + Thin saffron clouds ascend, + As Carbonari, hid from view, + Their smouldering embers tend. + + Luxuriant vale or sterile reach, + A mountain temple-crowned + Or inland curve of glistening beach, + The changeful scene surround; + While scarlet poppies burning near, + And citrons' emerald gleam, + Make barren intervals appear + Dim lapses of a dream. + + How meekly o'er the meadows gay + The azure flax-blooms spread! + What fragrance on the breeze of May + The almond-blossoms shed! + Wide-branching fig-trees deck the fields + Or round the quarries cling, + And cactus-stalks, with thorny shields, + In wild contortions spring. + + Here groves of cork dusk shadows throw, + There vine-leaves lightsome sway, + While chestnut-plumes serenely glow + Above the olives gray; + Tall pines upon the sloping meads + Their sylvan domes uprear, + And rankly the papyrus-reeds + Low cluster in the mere. + + And Syracuse with pensive mien, + In solitary pride, + Like an untamed, but throneless queen, + Crouched by the lucent tide; + With honeyed thyme still Hybla teemed, + Its scent each zephyr bore, + And Arethusa's fountain gleamed + Pellucid as of yore. + + Methought, upstarting from his bath, + Old Archimedes cried, + "Eureka!" in my silent path, + Whose echoes long replied; + That Pythias, in the sunset-glow, + Rushed by to Damon's arms, + While from the Tyrant's Cave below + Moaned impotent alarms. + + And where upon a sculptured stone + The ruined arch beside, + A hoary, bronzed, and wrinkled crone + The twirling distaff plied,-- + Love with exalted Reason fraught + In Plato's accents came, + And Truth by Paul sublimely taught + Relumed her virgin flame. + + The ancient sepulchres that rose + Along the voiceless street + Time's myriad vistas seemed to close + And bid life's waves retreat,-- + As if intrusive footsteps stole + Beyond their mortal sphere, + And felt the awed and eager soul + Immortal comrades near. + + The moss-grown ramparts loom in sight + Like warders of the deep, + Where, flushed with evening's amber light, + The havened waters sleep; + Unfurrowed by a Roman keel + Or Carthaginian oar, + The speared and burnished galleys now + Their slumber break no more. + + But when the distant convent-bell, + Ere Day's last smiles depart, + With mellow cadence pleading fell + Upon my brooding heart,-- + And Memory's phantoms thick and fast + Their fond illusions bred, + From peerless spirits of the past, + And wrecks of ages fled,-- + + Joy broke the spell; an emblem blest + That lonely harbor cheered: + As if to greet her pilgrim guest, + My country's flag appeared! + Its radiant folds auroral streamed + Amid that haunted air, + And every star prophetic beamed + With Freedom's triumph there! + + * * * * * + + +METHODS OF STUDY IN NATURAL HISTORY. + + +All important changes in the social and political condition of man, +whether brought about by violent convulsions or effected gradually, are +at once recognized as eras in the history of humanity. But on the broad +high-road of civilization along which men are ever marching, they pass +by unnoticed the landmarks of intellectual progress, unless they chance +to have some direct bearing on what is called the practical side of +life. Such an era marked the early part of our own century; and though +at the time a thousand events seemed more full-freighted for the world +than the discovery of some old bones at the quarry of Montmartre, and +though many a man seemed greater in the estimation of the hour than the +professor at the Jardin des Plantes who strove to reconstruct these +fragments, yet the story that they told lighted up all the past, and +showed its true connection with the present. Cuvier, as one sees him in +a retrospective glance at the wonderful period in which he lived, and +which brought to the surface all its greatest elements,--one among a +throng of exceptional men, generals, soldiers, statesmen, as well as +men of commanding intellect in literary and scientific pursuits,--seems +always standing at the meeting-point between the past and present. His +gaze is ever fixed upon the path along which Creation has moved, and, as +he travels back, recovering step by step the road that has been lost to +man in apparently impenetrable darkness and mystery, the light brightens +and broadens before him, and seems to tempt him on into the dim regions +where the great mystery of Creation lies hidden. + +Before the year 1800, men had never suspected that their home had been +tenanted in past times by a set of beings totally different from those +that inhabit it now; still farther was it from their thought to imagine +that creation after creation had followed each other in successive ages, +every one stamped with a character peculiarly its own. It was Cuvier +who, aroused to new labors by the hint he received from the bones +unearthed at Montmartre, to which all his vast knowledge of living +animals gave him no clue, established by means of most laborious +investigations the astounding conclusion, that, prior to the existence +of the animals and plants now living, this globe had been the theatre of +another set of beings, every trace of whom had vanished from the face of +the earth. To his alert and active intellect and powerful imagination a +word spoken out of the past was pregnant with meaning; and when he had +once convinced himself that he had found a single animal that had no +counterpart among living beings, it gave him the key to many mysteries. + +It may be doubted whether men's eyes are ever opened to truths which, +though new to them, are old to God, till the time has come when they +can apprehend their meaning and turn them to good account. It certainly +seems, that, when such a revelation has once been made, light pours in +upon it from every side; and this is especially true of the case in +point. The existence of a past creation once suggested, confirmation +was found in a thousand facts overlooked before. The solid crust of the +earth gave up its dead, and from the snows of Siberia, from the soil of +Italy, from caves of Central Europe, from mines, from the rent sides of +mountains and from their highest peaks, from the coral beds of ancient +oceans, the varied animals that had possessed the earth ages before man +was created spoke to us of the past. + +No sooner were these facts established, than the relation between the +extinct world and the world of to-day became the subject of extensive +researches and comparisons; innumerable theories were started to account +for the differences, and to determine the periods and manner of the +change. It is not my intention to enter now at any length upon the +subject of geological succession, though I hope to return to it +hereafter in a series of papers upon that and kindred topics; but I +allude to it here, before presenting some views upon the maintenance of +organic types as they exist in our own period, for the following reason. +Since it has been shown that from the beginning of Creation till the +present time the physical history of the world has been divided into +a succession of distinct periods, each one accompanied by its +characteristic animals and plants, so that our own epoch is only the +closing one in the long procession of the ages, naturalists have been +constantly striving to find the connecting link between them all, and to +prove that each such creation has been a normal and natural growth +out of the preceding one. With this aim they have tried to adapt the +phenomena of reproduction among animals to the problem of creation, and +to make the beginning of life in the individual solve that great mystery +of the beginning of life in the world. In other words, they have +endeavored to show that the fact of successive generations is analogous +to that of successive creations, and that the processes by which +animals, once created, are maintained unchanged during the period to +which they belong will account also for their primitive existence. + +I wish, at the outset, to forestall any such misapplication of the facts +I am about to state, and to impress upon my readers the difference +between these two subjects of inquiry,--since it by no means follows, +that, because individuals are endowed with the power of reproducing and +perpetuating their kind, they are in any sense self-originating. Still +less probable does this appear, when we consider, that, since man has +existed upon the earth, no appreciable change has taken place in the +animal or vegetable world; and so far as our knowledge goes, this would +seem to be equally true of all the periods preceding ours, each one +maintaining unbroken to its close the organic character impressed upon +it at the beginning. + +The question I propose to consider here is simply the mode by which +organic types are preserved as they exist at present. Every one has +a summary answer to this question in the statement, that all these +short-lived individuals reproduce themselves, and thus maintain their +kinds. But the modes of reproduction are so varied, the changes some +animals undergo during their growth so extraordinary, the phenomena +accompanying these changes so startling, that, in the pursuit of the +subject, a new and independent science--that of Embryology--has grown +up, of the utmost importance in the present state of our knowledge. + +The prevalent ideas respecting the reproduction of animals are made +up from the daily observation of those immediately about us in the +barn-yard and the farm. But the phenomena here are comparatively simple, +and easily traced. The moment we extend our observations beyond our +cattle and fowls, and enter upon a wider field of investigation, we are +met by the most startling facts. Not the least baffling of these are +the disproportionate numbers of males and females in certain kinds +of animals, their unequal development, as well as the extraordinary +difference between the sexes among certain species, so that they seem as +distinct from each other as if they belonged to separate groups of the +Animal Kingdom. We have close at hand one of the most striking instances +of disproportionate numbers in the household of the Bee, with its one +fertile female charged with the perpetuation of the whole community, +while her innumerable sterile sisterhood, amid a few hundred drones, +work for its support in other ways. Another most interesting chapter +connected with the maintenance of animals is found in the various ways +and different degrees of care with which they provide for their progeny: +some having fulfilled their whole duty toward their offspring when they +have given them birth; others seeking hiding-places for the eggs they +have laid, and watching with a certain care over their development; +others feeding their young till they can provide for themselves, and +building nests, or burrowing holes in the ground, or constructing earth +mounds for their shelter. + +But, whatever be the difference in the outward appearance or the habits +of animals, one thing is common to them all without exception: at some +period of their lives they produce eggs, which, being fertilized, give +rise to beings of the same kind as the parent. This mode of generation +is universal, and is based upon that harmonious antagonism between the +sexes, that contrast between the male and the female element, that at +once divides and unites the whole Animal Kingdom. And although this +exchange of influence is not kept up by an equality of numeric +relations,--since not only are the sexes very unequally divided in some +kinds of animals, but the male and female elements are even combined +in certain types, so that the individuals are uniformly +hermaphrodites,--yet I firmly believe that this numerical distribution, +however unequal it may seem to us, is not without its ordained accuracy +and balance. He who has assigned its place to every leaf in the thickest +forest, according to an arithmetical law which prescribes to each its +allotted share of room on the branch where it grows, will not have +distributed animal life with less care. + +But although reproduction by eggs is common to all animals, it is only +one among several modes of multiplication. We have seen that certain +animals, besides the ordinary process of generation, also increase their +number naturally and constantly by self-division, so that out of one +individual many individuals may arise by a natural breaking up of +the whole body into distinct surviving parts. This process of normal +self-division may take place at all periods of life: it may form an +early phase of metamorphosis, as in the Hydroid of our common Aurelia, +described in the last article; or it may even take place before the +young is formed in the egg. In such a case, the egg itself divides into +a number of portions: two, four, eight, or even twelve and sixteen +individuals being normally developed from every egg, in consequence of +this singular process of segmentation of the yolk,--which takes place, +indeed, in all eggs, but in those which produce but one individual is +only a stage in the natural growth of the yolk during its transformation +into a young embryo. As the facts here alluded to are not very familiar +even to professional naturalists, I may be permitted to describe them +more in detail. + +No one who has often walked across a sand-beach in summer can have +failed to remark what the children call "sand saucers." The name is not +a bad one, with the exception that the saucer lacks a bottom; but the +form of these circular bands of sand is certainly very like a saucer +with the bottom knocked out. Hold one of them against the light and you +will see that it is composed of countless transparent spheres, each of +the size of a small pin's head. These are the eggs of our common Natica +or Sea-Snail. Any one who remembers the outline of this shell will +easily understand the process by which its eggs are left lying on the +beach in the form I have described. They are laid in the shape of a +broad, short ribbon, pressed between the mantle and the shell, and, +passing out, cover the outside of the shell, over which they are rolled +up, with a kind of glutinous envelope,--for the eggs are held together +by a soft glutinous substance. Thus surrounded, the shell, by its +natural movements along the beach, soon collects the sand upon it, the +particles of which in contact with the glutinous substance of the eggs +quickly forms a cement that binds the whole together in a kind of paste. +When consolidated, it drops off from the shell, having taken the mould +of its form, as it were, and retaining the curve which distinguishes the +outline of the Natica. Although these saucers look perfectly round, it +will be found that the edges are not soldered together, but are simply +lapped one over the other. Every one of the thousand little spheres +crowded into such a circle of sand contains an egg. If we follow the +development of these eggs, we shall presently find that each one divides +into two halves, these again dividing to make four portions, then the +four breaking up into eight, and so on, till we may have the yolks +divided into no less than sixteen distinct parts. Thus far this process +of segmentation is similar to that of the egg in other animals; but, as +we shall see hereafter, it seems usually to result only in a change in +the quality of its substance, for the portions coalesce again to form +one mass, from which a new individual is finally sketched out, at first +as a simple embryo, and gradually undergoing all the changes peculiar to +its kind, till a new-born animal escapes from the egg. But in the case +of the Natica this regular segmentation changes its character, and at a +certain period, in a more or less advanced stage of the segmentation, +according to the species, each portion of the yolk assumes an +individuality of its own, and, instead of uniting again with the rest, +begins to subdivide for itself. In our _Natica heros_, for instance, the +common large gray Sea-Snail of our coast, this change takes place when +the yolk has subdivided into eight parts. At that time each portion +begins a life of its own, not reuniting with its seven twin portions; so +that in the end, instead of a single embryo growing out of this yolk, +we have eight embryos arising from a single yolk, each one of which +undergoes a series of developments similar in all respects to that by +which a single embryo is formed from each egg in other animals. We have +other Naticas in which the normal number is twelve, others again in +which no less than sixteen individuals arise from one yolk. But this +process of segmentation, though in these animals it leads to such a +multiplication of individuals, is exactly the same as that discovered +by K.E. von Baer in the egg of the Frog, and described and figured by +Professor Bischof in the egg of the Rabbit, the Dog, the Guinea-Pig, +and the Deer, while other embryologists have traced the same process in +Birds, Reptiles, and Fishes, as well as in a variety of Articulates, +Mollusks, and Radiates. + +Multiplication by division occurs also normally in adult animals that +have completed their growth. This is especially frequent among Worms; +and strange to say, there are species in this Class which never lay eggs +before they have already multiplied themselves by self-division. + +Another mode of increase is that by budding, as in the Corals and many +other Radiates. The most common instance of budding we do not, however, +generally associate with this mode of multiplication in the Animal +Kingdom, because we are so little accustomed to compare and generalize +upon phenomena that we do not see to be directly connected with one +another. I allude here to the budding of trees, which year after year +enlarge by the addition of new individuals arising from buds. I trust +that the usual acceptation of the word _individual_, used in science +simply to designate singleness of existence, will not obscure a correct +appreciation of the true relation of buds to their parents and to the +beings arising from them. These buds have the same organic significance, +whether they drop from the parent stock to become distinct individuals +in the common acceptation of the term, or remain connected with +the parent stock, as in Corals and in trees, thus forming growing +communities of combined individuals. Nor will it matter much in +connection with the subject under discussion, whether these buds start +from the surface of an animal or sprout in its interior, to be cast off +in due time. Neither is the inequality of buds, varying more or less +among themselves, any sound reason for overlooking their essential +identity of structure. We have seen instances of this among Acalephs, +and it is still more apparent among trees which produce simultaneously +leaf and flower-buds, and even separate male and female flower-buds, as +is the case with our Hazels, Oaks, etc. + +It is not, however, my purpose here to describe the various modes of +reproduction and multiplication among animals and plants, nor to discuss +the merits of the different opinions respecting their numeric increase, +according to which some persons hold that all types originated from a +few primitive individuals, while others believe that the very numbers +now in existence are part of the primitive plan, and essential to the +harmonious relations existing between the animal and vegetable world. I +would only attempt to show that in the plan of Creation the maintenance +of types has been secured through a variety of means, but under such +limitations, that, within a narrow range of individual differences, all +representatives of one kind of animals agree with one another, whether +derived from eggs, or produced by natural division, or by budding; and +that the constancy of these normal processes of reproduction, as well as +the uniformity of their results, precludes the idea that the specific +differences among animals have been produced by the very means that +secure their permanence of type. The statement itself implies a +contradiction, for it tells us that the same influences prevent and +produce change in the condition of the Animal Kingdom. Facts are all +against it; there is not a fact known to science by which any single +being, in the natural process of reproduction and multiplication, has +diverged from the course natural to its kind, or in which a single kind +has been transformed into any other. But this once established, and +setting aside the idea that Embryology is to explain to us the origin as +well as the maintenance of life, it yet has most important lessons for +us, and the field it covers is constantly enlarging as the study +is pursued. The first and most important result of the science of +Embryology was one for which the scientific world was wholly unprepared. +Down to our own century, nothing could have been farther from the +conception of anatomists and physiologists than the fact now generally +admitted, that all animals, without exception, arise from eggs. Though +Linnaeus had already expressed this great truth in the sentence so often +quoted,--"Omne vivum ex ovo,"--yet he was not himself aware of the +significance of his own statement, for the existence of the Mammalian +egg was not then dreamed of. Since then the discoveries of von Baer and +others have shown not only that the egg is common to all living beings +without exception, from the lowest Radiate to the highest Vertebrate, +but that its structure is at first identical in all, composed of the +same primitive elements and undergoing exactly the same process of +growth up to the time when it assumes the special character peculiar +to its kind. This is unquestionably one of the most comprehensive +generalizations of modern times. + +In common parlance, we understand by an egg something of the nature of a +hen's egg, a mass of yolk surrounded with white and inclosed in a shell. +But to the naturalist, the envelopes of the egg, which vary greatly in +different animals, are mere accessories, while the true egg, or, as it +is called, the ovarian egg, with which the life of every living being +begins, is a minute sphere, uniform in appearance throughout the Animal +Kingdom, though its intimate structure is hardly to be reached even with +the highest powers of the microscope. Some account of the earlier stages +of growth in the egg may not be uninteresting to my readers. I will +take the egg of the Turtle as an illustration, since that has been the +subject of my own especial study; but, as I do not intend to carry my +remarks beyond the period during which the history of all vertebrate +eggs is the same, they may be considered of more general application. + +It is well known that all organic structures, whether animal or +vegetable, are composed of cells. These cells consist of an outside bag +inclosing an inner sac, and within that sac there is a dot. The outer +bag is filled with semi-transparent fluid, the inner one with a +perfectly transparent fluid, while the dot is dark and distinct. In the +language of our science, the outer envelope is called the Ectoblast, the +inner sac the Mesoblast, and the dot the Entoblast. Although they are +peculiarly modified to suit the different organs, these cells never lose +this peculiar structure; it may be traced even in the long drawn-out +cells of the flesh, which are like mere threads, but yet have their +outer and inner sac and their dot,--at least while forming. + +In the Turtle the ovary is made up of such cells, spherical at first, +but becoming hexagonal under pressure, when they are more closely packed +together. Between these ovarian cells the egg originates, and is at +first a mere granule, so minute, that, when placed under a very high +magnifying power, it is but just visible. This is the incipient egg, +and at this stage it differs from the surrounding cells only in being +somewhat darker, like a drop of oil, and opaque, instead of transparent +and clear like the surrounding cells. Under the microscope it is found +to be composed of two substances only: namely, oil and albumen. It +increases gradually, and when it has reached a size at which it requires +to be magnified one thousand times in order to be distinctly visible, +the outside assumes the aspect of a membrane thicker than the interior +and forming a coating around it. This is owing not to an addition from +outside, but to a change in the consistency of the substance at the +surface, which becomes more closely united, more compact, than the +loose mass in the centre. Presently we perceive a bright, luminous, +transparent spot on the upper side of the egg, near the wall or outer +membrane. This is produced by a concentration of the albumen, which +now separates from the oil and collects at the upper side of the egg, +forming this light spot, called by naturalists the Purkinjean vesicle, +after its discoverer, Purkinje. When this albuminous spot becomes +somewhat larger, there arises a little dot in the centre,--the germinal +dot, as it is called. And now we have a perfect cell-structure, +differing from an ordinary cell only in having the inner sac, inclosing +the dot, on the side, instead of in the centre. The outer membrane +corresponds to the Ectoblast, or outer cell sac, the Purkinjean vesicle +to the Mesoblast, or inner cell sac, while the dot in the centre answers +to the Entoblast. When the Purkinjean vesicle has completed its growth, +it bursts and disappears; but the mass contained in it remains in the +same region, and retains the same character, though no longer inclosed +as before. + +At a later stage of the investigation, we see why the Purkinjean +vesicle, or inner sac of the egg, is placed on the side, instead of +being at the centre, as in the cell. It arises on that side along which +the axis of the little Turtle is to lie,--the opposite side being that +corresponding to the lower part of the body. Thus the lighter, more +delicate part of the substance of the egg is collected where the upper +cavity of the animal, inclosing the nervous system and brain, is to +be, while the heavy oily part remains beneath, where the lower cavity, +inclosing all the organs of mere material animal existence, is +afterwards developed. In other words, when the egg is a mere mass of +oil and albumen, not indicating as yet in any way the character of the +future animal, and discernible only by the microscope, the distinction +is indicated between the brains and the senses, between the organs of +instinct and sensation and those of mere animal functions. At that stage +of its existence, however, when the egg consists of an outer sac, an +inner sac, and a dot, its resemblance to a cell is unmistakable; and, +in fact, an egg, when forming, is nothing but a single cell. This +comparison is important, because there are both animals and plants +which, during their whole existence, consist of a single organic cell, +while others are made up of countless millions of such cells. Between +these two extremes we have all degrees, from the innumerable cells that +build up the body of the highest Vertebrate to the single-celled Worm, +and from the myriad cells of the Oak to the single-celled Alga. + +But while we recognize the identity of cell-structure and egg-structure +at this point in the history of the egg, we must not forget the great +distinction between them,--namely, that, while the cells remain +component parts of the whole body, the egg separates itself and assumes +a distinct individual existence. Even now, while still microscopically +small, its individuality begins; other substances collect around it, are +absorbed into it, nourish it, serve it. Every being is a centre about +which many other things cluster and converge, and which has the power to +assimilate to itself the necessary elements of its life. Every egg is +already such a centre, differing from the cells that surround it by +no material elements, but by the principle of life in which its +individuality consists, which is to make it a new being, instead of a +fellow-cell with those that build up the body of the parent animal and +remain component parts of it. This intangible something is the subtile +element that eludes our closest analysis; it is the germ of the +immaterial principle according to which the new being is to develop. The +physical germ we see; the spiritual germ we cannot see, though we may +trace its action on the material elements through which it is expressed. + +The first change in the yolk, after the formation of the Purkinjean +vesicle, is the appearance of minute dots near the wall at the side +opposite the vesicle. These increase in number and size, but remain +always on that half of the yolk, leaving the other half of the globe +clear. One can hardly conceive the beauty of the egg as seen through the +microscope at this period of its growth, when the whole yolk is divided, +with the dark granules on one side, while the other side, where the +transparent halo of the vesicle is seen, is brilliant with light. With +the growth of the egg these granules enlarge, become more distinct, and +under the microscope some of them appear to be hollow. They are not +round in form, but rather irregular, and under the effect of light they +are exceedingly brilliant. Presently, instead of being scattered equally +over the space they occupy, they form clusters,--constellations, as it +were,--and between these clusters are clear spaces, produced by the +separation of the albumen from the oil. + +At this period of its growth there is a wonderful resemblance between +the appearance of the egg, as seen under the microscope, and +the firmament with the celestial bodies. The little clusters or +constellations are unequally divided: here and there they are two and +two like double stars, or sometimes in threes or fives, or in sevens, +recalling the Pleiades, and the clear albuminous tracks between are like +the empty spaces separating the stars. + +This is no fanciful simile: it is simply true that such is the actual +appearance of the yolk at this time; and the idea cannot but suggest +itself to the mind, that the thoughts which have been at work in the +universe are collected and repeated here within this little egg, which +offers us a miniature diagram of the firmament. This is one of the first +changes of the yolk, ending by forming regular clusters with a sort +of net-work of albumen between, and then this phase of the growth is +complete. + +Now the clusters of the yolk separate, and next the albumen in its turn +concentrates into clusters, and the dark bodies, which have been till +now the striking points, give way to the lighter spheres of albumen +between which the clusters are scattered. Presently the whole becomes +redissolved: these stages of the growth being completed, this little +system of worlds is melted, as it were: but while it undergoes this +process, the albuminous spheres, after being dissolved, arrange +themselves in concentric rings, alternating with rings of granules, +around the Purkinjean vesicle. At this time we are again reminded of +Saturn and its rings, which seems to have its counterpart here. These +rings disappear, and now once more out of the yolk mass loom up little +dots as minute as before; but they are round instead of angular, and +those nearest the Purkinjean vesicle are smaller and clearer, containing +less of oil than the larger and darker ones on the opposite side. From +this time the yolk begins to take its color, the oily cells assuming a +yellow tint, while the albuminous cells near the vesicle become whiter. + +Up to this period the processes in the different cells seem to have been +controlled by the different character of the substance of each; but now +it would seem that the changes become more independent of physical or +material influences, for each kind of cell undergoes the same process. +They all assume the ordinary cell character, with outer and inner +sac,--the inner sac forming on the side, like the Purkinjean vesicle +itself; but it does not retain this position, for, as soon as its wall +is formed and it becomes a distinct body, it floats away from the side +and takes its place in the centre. Next there arise within it a number +of little bodies crystalline in form, and which actually are wax or oil +crystals. They increase with great rapidity, the inner sac or mesoblast +becoming sometimes so crowded with them, that its shape is affected by +the protrusion of their angles. This process goes on till all the cells +are so filled by the mesoblast, with its myriad brood of cells, that +the outer sac or ectoblast becomes a mere halo around it. Then every +mesoblast contracts; the contraction deepens, till it is divided across +in both directions, separating thus into four parts, then into eight, +then into sixteen, and so on, till every cell is crowded with hundreds +of minute mesoblasts, each containing the indication of a central dot or +entoblast. At this period every yolk cell is itself like a whole yolk; +for each cell is as full of lesser cells as the yolk-bag itself. + +When the mesoblast has become thus infinitely subdivided into hundreds +of minute spheres, the ectoblast bursts, and the new generations of +cells thus set free collect in that part of the egg where the embryonic +disk is to arise. This process of segmentation continues to go on +downward till the whole yolk is taken in. These myriad cells are in +fact the component parts of the little Turtle that is to be. They will +undergo certain modifications, to become flesh-cells, blood-cells, +brain-cells, and so on, adapting themselves to the different organs they +are to build up; but they have as much their definite and appointed +share in the formation of the body now as at any later stage of its +existence. + +We are so accustomed to see life maintained through a variety of +complicated organs that we are apt to think this the only way in which +it can be manifested; and considering how closely life and the organs +through which it is expressed are united, it is natural that we should +believe them inseparably connected. But embryological investigations +have shown us that in the commencement none of these organs are formed, +and yet that the principle of life is active, and that even after they +exist, they cannot act, inclosed as they are. In the little Chicken, for +instance, before it is hatched, the lungs cannot breathe, for they +are surrounded by fluid, the senses are inactive, for they receive no +impressions from without, and all those functions establishing its +relations with the external world lie dormant, for as yet they are not +needed. But they are there, though, as we have seen in the Turtle's egg, +they were not there at the beginning. How, then, are they formed? We may +answer, that the first function of every organ is to make itself. The +building material is, as it were, provided by the process which divides +the yolk into innumerable cells, and by the gradual assimilation and +modification of this material the organs arise. Before the lungs +breathe, they make themselves; before the stomach digests, it makes +itself; before the organs of the senses act, they make themselves; +before the brain thinks, it makes itself; in a word, before the whole +system works, it makes itself; its first office is self-structure. + +At the period described above, however, when the new generations of +cells are just set free and have taken their place in the region where +the new being is to develop, nothing is to be seen of the animal whose +life is beginning there, except the filmy disk lying on the surface of +the yolk. Next come the layers of white or albumen around the egg, and +last the shell which is formed from the lime in the albumen. There is +always more or less of lime in albumen, and the hardening of the last +layer of white into shell is owing only to the greater proportion of +lime in its substance. In the layer next to the shell there is enough of +lime to consolidate it slightly, and it forms a membrane; but the white, +the membrane, and the shell have all the same quality, except that the +proportion of lime is more or less in the different layers. + +But, as I have said, the various envelopes of eggs, the presence or +absence of a shell, and the absolute size of the egg, are accessory +features, belonging not to the egg as egg, but to the special kind of +being from which the egg has arisen and into which it is to develop. +What is common to all eggs and essential to them all is that which +corresponds to the yolk in the bird's egg. But their later mode of +development, the degree of perfection acquired by the egg and germ +before being laid, the term required for the germ to come to maturity, +as well as the frequency and regularity of the broods, are all features +varying with the different kinds of animals. There are those that lay +eggs once a year at a particular season and then die; so that their +existence may be compared to that of annual plants, undergoing their +natural growth in a season, to exist during the remainder of the year +only in the form of an egg or seed. The majority of Insects belong to +this category, as do also our large Jelly-Fishes; many others have a +slow growth, extending over several years, during which they reach their +maturity, and for a longer or shorter time produce broods at fixed +intervals; while others, again, reach their mature state very rapidly, +and produce a number of successive generations in a comparatively short +time, it may be in a single season. + +I do not intend to enter upon the chapter of special differences of +development among animals, for in this article I have aimed only to show +that the egg lives, that it is itself the young animal, and that +the vital principle is active in it from the earliest period of its +existence. But I would say to all young students of Embryology that +their next aim should be to study those intermediate phases in the life +of a young animal, when, having already acquired independent existence, +it has not yet reached the condition of the adult. Here lies an +inexhaustible mine of valuable information unappropriated, from which, +as my limited experience has already taught me, may be gathered the +evidence for the solution of the most perplexing problems of our +science. Here we shall find the true tests by which to determine the +various kinds and different degrees of affinity which animals now living +bear not only to one another, but also to those that have preceded them +in past times. Here we shall find, not a material connection by which +blind laws of matter have evolved the whole creation out of a single +germ, but the clue to that intellectual conception which spans the whole +series of the geological ages and is perfectly consistent in all its +parts. In this sense the present will indeed explain the past, and the +young naturalist is happy who enters upon his life of investigation now, +when the problems that were dark to all his predecessors have received +new light from the sciences of Palaeontology and Embryology. + + * * * * * + + +BLIND TOM. + + + Only a germ in a withered flower, + That the rain will bring out--sometime. + +Sometime in the year 1850, a tobacco-planter in Southern Georgia +(Perry H. Oliver by name) bought a likely negro woman with some other +field-hands. She was stout, tough-muscled, willing, promised to be a +remunerative servant; her baby, however, a boy a few months old, was +only thrown in as a makeweight to the bargain, or rather because Mr. +Oliver would not consent to separate mother and child. Charity only +could have induced him to take the picaninny, in fact, for he was but +a lump of black flesh, born blind, and with the vacant grin of idiocy, +they thought, already stamped on his face. The two slaves were +purchased, I believe, from a trader: it has been impossible, therefore, +for me to ascertain where Tom was born, or when. Georgia field-hands +are not accurate as Jews in preserving their genealogy; _they_ do +not anticipate a Messiah. A white man, you know, has that vague hope +unconsciously latent in him, that he is, or shall give birth to, the +great man of his race, a helper, a provider for the world's hunger: so +he grows jealous with his blood; the dead grandfather may have presaged +the possible son; besides, it is a debt he owes to this coming Saul to +tell him whence he came. There are some classes, free and slave, out of +whom society has crushed this hope: they have no clan, no family-names +among them, therefore. This idiot-boy, chosen by God to be anointed with +the holy chrism, is only "Tom,"--"Blind Tom," they call him in all the +Southern States, with a kind cadence always, being proud and fond +of him; and yet--nothing but Tom? That is pitiful. Just a +mushroom-growth,--unkinned, unexpected, not hoped for, for generations, +owning no name to purify and honor and give away when he is dead. His +mother, at work to-day in the Oliver plantations, can never comprehend +why her boy is famous; this gift of God to him means nothing to her. +Nothing to him, either, which is saddest of all; he is unconscious, +wears his crown as an idiot might. Whose fault is that? Deeper than +slavery the evil lies. + +Mr. Oliver did his duty well to the boy, being an observant and +thoroughly kind master. The plantation was large, heartsome, faced the +sun, swarmed with little black urchins, with plenty to eat, and nothing +to do. + +All that Tom required, as he fattened out of baby- into boyhood, was +room in which to be warm, on the grass-patch, or by the kitchen-fires, +to be stupid, flabby, sleepy,--kicked and petted alternately by the +other hands. He had a habit of crawling up on the porches and verandas +of the mansion and squatting there in the sun, waiting for a kind word +or touch from those who went in and out. He seldom failed to receive it. +Southerners know nothing of the physical shiver of aversion with which +even the Abolitionists of the North touch the negro: so Tom, through his +very helplessness, came to be a sort of pet in the family, a playmate, +occasionally, of Mr. Oliver's own infant children. The boy, creeping +about day after day in the hot light, was as repugnant an object as the +lizards in the neighboring swamp, and promised to be of as little use to +his master. He was of the lowest negro type, from which only field-hands +can be made,--coal-black, with protruding heels, the ape-jaw, +blubber-lips constantly open, the sightless eyes closed, and the head +thrown far back on the shoulders, lying on the back, in fact, a habit +which he still retains, and which adds to the imbecile character of +the face. Until he was seven years of age, Tom was regarded on the +plantation as an idiot, not unjustly; for at the present time his +judgment and reason rank but as those of a child four years old. He +showed a dog-like affection for some members of the household,--a son +of Mr. Oliver's especially,--and a keen, nervous sensitiveness to the +slightest blame or praise from them,--possessed, too, a low animal +irritability of temper, giving way to inarticulate yelps of passion when +provoked. That is all, so far; we find no other outgrowth of intellect +or soul from the boy: just the same record as that of thousands of +imbecile negro-children. Generations of heathendom and slavery have +dredged the inherited brains and temperaments of such children tolerably +clean of all traces of power or purity,--palsied the brain, brutalized +the nature. Tom apparently fared no better than his fellows. + +It was not until 1857 that those phenomenal powers latent in the boy +were suddenly developed, which stamped him the anomaly he is to-day. + +One night, sometime in the summer of that year, Mr. Oliver's family were +wakened by the sound of music in the drawing-room: not only the simple +airs, but the most difficult exercises usually played by his daughters, +were repeated again and again, the touch of the musician being timid, +but singularly true and delicate. Going down, they found Tom, who had +been left asleep in the hall, seated at the piano in an ecstasy of +delight, breaking out at the end of each successful fugue into shouts of +laughter, kicking his heels and clapping his hands. This was the first +time he had touched the piano. + +Naturally, Tom became a nine-days' wonder on the plantation. He was +brought in as an after-dinner's amusement; visitors asked for him as the +show of the place. There was hardly a conception, however, in the minds +of those who heard him, of how deep the cause for wonder lay. The +planters' wives and daughters of the neighborhood were not people +who would be apt to comprehend music as a science, or to use it as a +language; they only saw in the little negro, therefore, a remarkable +facility for repeating the airs they drummed on their pianos,--in a +different manner from theirs, it is true,--which bewildered them. They +noticed, too, that, however the child's fingers fell on the keys, +cadences followed, broken, wandering, yet of startling beauty and +pathos. The house-servants, looking in through the open doors at the +little black figure perched up before the instrument, while unknown, +wild harmony drifted through the evening air, had a better conception +of him. He was possessed; some ghost spoke through him: which is a fair +enough definition of genius for a Georgian slave to offer. + +Mr. Oliver, as we said, was indulgent. Tom was allowed to have constant +access to the piano; in truth, he could not live without it; when +deprived of music now, actual physical debility followed: the gnawing +Something had found its food at last. No attempt was made, however, to +give him any scientific musical teaching; nor--I wish it distinctly +borne in mind--has he ever at any time received such instruction. + +The planter began to wonder what kind of a creature this was which he +had bought, flesh and soul. In what part of the unsightly baby-carcass +had been stowed away these old airs, forgotten by every one else, +and some of them never heard by the child but once, but which he now +reproduced, every note intact, and with whatever quirk or quiddity of +style belonged to the person who originally had sung or played them? +Stranger still the harmonies which he had never heard, had learned from +no man. The sluggish breath of the old house, being enchanted, grew into +quaint and delicate whims of music, never the same, changing every day. +Never glad: uncertain, sad minors always, vexing the content of the +hearer,--one inarticulate, unanswered question of pain in all, making +them one. Even the vulgarest listener was troubled, hardly knowing +why,--how sorry Tom's music was! + +At last the time came when the door was to be opened, when some +listener, not vulgar, recognizing the child as God made him, induced his +master to remove him from the plantation. Something ought to be done for +him; the world ought not to be cheated of this pleasure; besides--the +money that could be made! So Mr. Oliver, with a kindly feeling for Tom, +proud, too, of this agreeable monster which his plantation had grown, +and sensible that it was a more fruitful source of revenue than +tobacco-fields, set out with the boy, literally to seek their fortune. + +The first exhibition of him was given, I think, in Savannah, Georgia; +thence he was taken to Charleston, Richmond, to all the principal cities +and towns in the Southern States. + +This was in 1858. From that time until the present Tom has lived +constantly an open life, petted, feted, his real talent befogged by +exaggeration, and so pampered and coddled that one might suppose the +only purpose was to corrupt and wear it out. For these reasons this +statement is purposely guarded, restricted to plain, known facts. + +No sooner had Tom been brought before the public than the pretensions +put forward by his master commanded the scrutiny of both scientific +and musical skeptics. His capacities were subjected to rigorous tests. +Fortunately for the boy: for, so tried,--harshly, it is true, yet +skilfully,--they not only bore the trial, but acknowledged the touch +as skilful; every day new powers were developed, until he reached his +limit, beyond which it is not probable he will ever pass. That limit, +however, establishes him as an anomaly in musical science. + +Physically, and in animal temperament, this negro ranks next to the +lowest Guinea type: with strong appetites and gross bodily health, +except in one particular, which will be mentioned hereafter. In the +every-day apparent intellect, in reason or judgment, he is but one +degree above an idiot,--incapable of comprehending the simplest +conversation on ordinary topics, amused or enraged with trifles such +as would affect a child of three years old. On the other side, his +affections are alive, even vehement, delicate in their instinct as a +dog's or an infant's; he will detect the step of any one dear to him in +a crowd, and burst into tears, if not kindly spoken to. + +His memory is so accurate that he can repeat, without the loss of a +syllable, a discourse of fifteen minutes in length, of which he does +not understand a word. Songs, too, in French or German, after a single +hearing, he renders not only literally in words, but in notes, style, +and expression. His voice, however, is discordant, and of small compass. + +In music, this boy of twelve years, born blind, utterly ignorant of a +note, ignorant of every phase of so-called musical science, interprets +severely classical composers with a clearness of conception in which +he excels, and a skill in mechanism equal to that of our second-rate +artists. His concerts usually include any themes selected by the +audience from the higher grades of Italian or German opera. His +comprehension of the meaning of music, as a prophetic or historical +voice which few souls utter and fewer understand, is clear and vivid: he +renders it thus, with whatever mastery of the mere material part he may +possess, fingering, dramatic effects, etc.: these are but means to him, +not an end, as with most artists. One could fancy that Tom was never +traitor to the intent or soul of the theme. What God or the Devil meant +to say by this or that harmony, what the soul of one man cried aloud to +another in it, this boy knows, and is to that a faithful witness. His +deaf, uninstructed soul has never been tampered with by art-critics who +know the body well enough of music, but nothing of the living creature +within. The world is full of these vulgar souls that palter with eternal +Nature and the eternal Arts, blind to the Word who dwells among us +therein. Tom, or the daemon in Tom, was not one of them. + +With regard to his command of the instrument, two points have been +especially noted by musicians: the unusual frequency of occurrence of +_tours de force_ in his playing, and the scientific precision of his +manner of touch. For example, in a progression of augmented chords, his +mode of fingering is invariably that of the schools, not that which +would seem most natural to a blind child never taught to place a finger. +Even when seated with his back to the piano, and made to play in that +position, (a favorite feat in his concerts,) the touch is always +scientifically accurate. + +The peculiar power which Tom possesses, however, is one which requires +no scientific knowledge of music in his audiences to appreciate. +Placed at the instrument with any musician, he plays a perfect bass +accompaniment to the treble of music _heard for the first time as +he plays_. Then taking the seat vacated by the other performer, he +instantly gives the entire piece, intact in brilliancy and symmetry, not +a note lost or misplaced. The selections of music by which this power +of Tom's was tested, two years ago, were sometimes fourteen and sixteen +pages in length; on one occasion, at an exhibition at the White House, +after a long concert, he was tried with two pieces,--one thirteen, the +other twenty pages long, and was successful. + +We know of no parallel case to this in musical history. Grimm tells us, +as one of the most remarkable manifestations of Mozart's infant genius, +that at the age of nine he was required to give an accompaniment to an +aria which he had never heard before, and without notes. There were +false accords in the first attempt, he acknowledges; but the second was +pure. When the music to which Tom plays _secondo_ is strictly classical, +he sometimes balks for an instant in passages; to do otherwise would +argue a creative power equal to that of the master composers; but when +any chordant harmony runs through it, (on which the glowing negro soul +can seize, you know,) there are no "false accords," as with the infant +Mozart. I wish to draw especial attention to this power of the boy, not +only because it is, so far as I know, unmatched in the development of +any musical talent, but because, considered in the context of his +entire intellectual structure, it involves a curious problem. The mere +repetition of music heard but once, even when, as in Tom's case, it +is given with such incredible fidelity, and after the lapse of years, +demands only a command of mechanical skill, and an abnormal condition of +the power of memory; but to play _secondo_ to music never heard or seen +implies the comprehension of the full drift of the symphony in its +current,--a capacity to create, in short. Yet such attempts as Tom has +made to dictate music for publication do not sustain any such inference. +They are only a few light marches, gallops, etc., simple and plaintive +enough, but with easily detected traces of remembered harmonies: very +different from the strange, weird improvisations of every day. One would +fancy that the mere attempt to bring this mysterious genius within him +in bodily presence before the outer world woke, too, the idiotic nature +to utter its reproachful, unable cry. Nor is this the only bar by which +poor Tom's soul is put in mind of its foul bestial prison. After any +too prolonged effort, such as those I have alluded to, his whole bodily +frame gives way, and a complete exhaustion of the brain follows, +accompanied with epileptic spasms. The trial at the White House, +mentioned before, was successful, but was followed by days of illness. + +Being a slave, Tom never was taken into a Free State; for the same +reason his master refused advantageous offers from European managers. +The highest points North at which his concerts were given were Baltimore +and the upper Virginia towns. I heard him sometime in 1860. He remained +a week or two in the town, playing every night. + +The concerts were unique enough. They were given in a great barn of +a room, gaudy with hot, soot-stained frescoes, chandeliers, walls +splotched with gilt. The audience was large, always; such as a +provincial town affords: not the purest bench of musical criticism +before which to bring poor Tom. Beaux and belles, siftings of old +country families, whose grandfathers trapped and traded and married with +the Indians,--the savage thickening of whose blood told itself in high +cheekbones, flashing jewelry, champagne-bibbing, a comprehension of +the tom-tom music of schottisches and polkas; money-made men and their +wives, cooped up by respectability, taking concerts when they were given +in town, taking the White Sulphur or Cape May in summer, taking beef for +dinner, taking the pork-trade in winter,--_toute la vie en programme_; +the _débris_ of a town, the roughs, the boys, school-children,--Tom was +nearly as well worth a quarter as the negro-minstrels; here and there +a pair of reserved, homesick eyes, a peculiar, reticent face, some +whey-skinned ward-teacher's, perhaps, or some German cobbler's, but +hints of a hungry soul, to whom Beethoven and Mendelssohn knew how +to preach an unerring gospel. The stage was broad, planked, with a +drop-curtain behind,--the Doge marrying the sea, I believe; in front, a +piano and chair. + +Presently, Mr. Oliver, a well-natured looking man, (one thought of +that,) came forward, leading and coaxing along a little black boy, +dressed in white linen, somewhat fat and stubborn in build. Tom was +not in a good humor that night; the evening before had refused to play +altogether; so his master perspired anxiously before he could get him +placed in rule before the audience, and repeat his own little speech, +which sounded like a Georgia after-dinner gossip. The boy's head, as +I said, rested on his back, his mouth wide open constantly; his great +blubber lips and shining teeth, therefore, were all you saw when +he faced you. He required to be petted and bought like any other +weak-minded child. The concert was a mixture of music, whining, coaxing, +and promised candy and cake. + +He seated himself at last before the piano, a full half-yard distant, +stretching out his arms full-length, like an ape clawing for +food,--his feet, when not on the pedals, squirming and twisting +incessantly,--answering some joke of his master's with a loud "Yha! +yha!" Nothing indexes the brain like the laugh; this was idiotic. + +"Now, Tom, boy, something we like from Verdi." + +The head fell farther back, the claws began to work, and those of his +harmonies which you would have chosen as the purest exponents of passion +began to float through the room. Selections from Weber, Beethoven, and +others whom I have forgotten, followed. At the close of each piece, +Tom, without waiting for the audience, would himself applaud violently, +kicking, pounding his hands together, turning always to his master +for the approving pat on the head. Songs, recitations such as I have +described, filled up the first part of the evening; then a musician from +the audience went upon the stage to put the boy's powers to the final +test. Songs and intricate symphonies were given, which it was most +improbable the boy could ever have heard; he remained standing, +utterly motionless, until they were finished, and for a moment or two +after,--then, seating himself, gave them without the break of a +note. Others followed, more difficult, in which he played the bass +accompaniment in the manner I have described, repeating instantly the +treble. The child looked dull, wearied, during this part of the trial, +and his master, perceiving it, announced the exhibition closed, when the +musician (who was a citizen of the town, by-the-way) drew out a +thick roll of score, which he explained to be a Fantasia of his own +composition, never published. + +"_This_ it was impossible the boy could have heard; there could be no +trick of memory in this; and on this trial," triumphantly, "Tom would +fail." + +The manuscript was some fourteen pages long,--variations on an inanimate +theme. Mr. Oliver refused to submit the boy's brain to so cruel a test; +some of the audience, even, interfered; but the musician insisted, and +took his place. Tom sat beside him,--his head rolling nervously from +side to side,--struck the opening cadence, and then, from the first note +to the last, gave the _secondo_ triumphantly. Jumping up, he fairly +shoved the man from his seat, and proceeded to play the treble with more +brilliancy and power than its composer. When he struck the last octave, +he sprang up, yelling with delight:-- + +"Um's got him, Massa! um's got him!" cheering and rolling about the +stage. + +The cheers of the audience--for the boys especially did not wait to +clap--excited him the more. It was an hour before his master could quiet +his hysteric agitation. + +That feature of the concerts which was the most painful I have not +touched upon: the moments when his master was talking, and Tom was left +to himself,--when a weary despair seemed to settle down on the distorted +face, and the stubby little black fingers, wandering over the keys, +spoke for Tom's own caged soul within. Never, by any chance, a merry, +childish laugh of music in the broken cadences; tender or wild, a +defiant outcry, a tired sigh breaking down into silence. Whatever +wearied voice it took, the same bitter, hopeless soul spoke through all: +"Bless me, even me, also, O my Father!" A something that took all the +pain and pathos of the world into its weak, pitiful cry. + +Some beautiful caged spirit, one could not but know, struggled for +breath under that brutal form and idiotic brain. I wonder when it will +be free. Not in this life: the bars are too heavy. + +You cannot help Tom, either; all the war is between you. He was in +Richmond in May. But (do you hate the moral to a story?) in your own +kitchen, in your own back-alley, there are spirits as beautiful, caged +in forms as bestial, that you _could_ set free, if you pleased. Don't +call it bad taste in me to speak for them. You know they are more to be +pitied than Tom,--for they are dumb. + + + + +KINDERGARTEN--WHAT IS IT? + + +What is a Kindergarten? I will reply by negatives. It is not +the old-fashioned infant-school. That was a narrow institution, +comparatively; the object being (I do not speak of Pestalozzi's own, +but that which we have had in this country and in England) to take +the children of poor laborers, and keep them out of the fire and the +streets, while their mothers went to their necessary labor. Very good +things, indeed, in their way. Their principle of discipline was to +circumvent the wills of children, in every way that would enable their +teachers to keep them within bounds, and quiet. It was certainly better +that they should learn to sing _by rote_ the Creed and the "definitions" +of scientific terms, and such like, than to learn the profanity and +obscenity of the streets, which was the alternative. But no mother who +wished for anything which might be called the _development_ of her child +would think of putting it into an infant-school, especially if she lived +in the country, amid + + "the mighty sum + Of things forever speaking," + +where any "old grey stone" would altogether surpass, as a stand-point, +the bench of the highest class of an infant-school. In short, they +did not state the problem of infant culture with any breadth, and +accomplished nothing of general interest on the subject. + +Neither is the primary public school a Kindergarten, though it is +but justice to the capabilities of that praiseworthy institution, so +important in default of a better, to say that in one of them, at the +North End of Boston, an enterprising and genial teacher has introduced +one feature of Froebel's plan. She has actually given to each of her +little children a box of playthings, wherewith to amuse itself +according to its own sweet will, at all times when not under direct +instruction,--necessarily, in her case, on condition of its being +perfectly quiet; and this one thing makes this primary school the best +one in Boston, both as respects the attainments of the scholars and +their good behavior. + +_Kindergarten_ means a garden of children, and Froebel, the inventor of +it, or rather, as he would prefer to express it, _the discoverer of the +method of Nature_, meant to symbolize by the name the spirit and plan +of treatment. How does the gardener treat his plants? He studies their +individual natures, and puts them into such circumstances of soil and +atmosphere as enable them to grow, flower, and bring forth fruit,--also +to renew their manifestation year after year. He does not expect to +succeed unless he learns all their wants, and the circumstances in which +these wants will be supplied, and all their possibilities of beauty and +use, and the means of giving them opportunity to be perfected. On the +other hand, while he knows that they must not be forced against their +individual natures, he does not leave them to grow wild, but prunes +redundancies, removes destructive worms and bugs from their leaves and +stems, and weeds from their vicinity,--carefully watching to learn what +peculiar insects affect what particular plants, and how the former can +be destroyed without injuring the vitality of the latter. After all the +most careful gardener can do, he knows that the form of the plant is +predetermined in the germ or seed, and that the inward tendency must +concur with a multitude of influences, the most powerful and subtile of +which is removed in place ninety-five millions of miles away. + +In the Kindergarten _children_ are treated on an analogous plan. It +presupposes gardeners of the mind, who are quite aware that they have as +little power to override the characteristic individuality of a child, or +to predetermine this characteristic, as the gardener of plants to say +that a lily shall be a rose. But notwithstanding this limitation on +one side, and the necessity for concurrence of the Spirit on the +other,--which is more independent of our modification than the remote +sun,--yet they must feel responsible, after all, for the perfection of +the development, in so far as removing every impediment, preserving +every condition, and pruning every redundance. + +This analogy of education to the gardener's art is so striking, both as +regards what we can and what we cannot do, that Froebel has put every +educator into a most suggestive Normal School, by the very word which he +has given to his seminary,--Kindergarten. + +If every school-teacher in the land had a garden of flowers and fruits +to cultivate, it could hardly fail that he would learn to be wise in his +vocation. For suitable preparation, the first, second, and third thing +is, to + + "Come forth into the light of things, + Let Nature be your teacher." + +The "new education," as the French call it, begins with children in the +mother's arms. Froebel had the nurses bring to his establishment, in +Hamburg, children who could not talk, who were not more than three +months old, and trained the nurses to work on his principles and by his +methods. This will hardly be done in this country, at least at present; +but to supply the place of such a class, a lady of Boston has prepared +and published, under copyright, Froebel's First Gift, consisting of six +soft balls of the three primary and the three secondary colors, which +are sold in a box, with a little manual for mothers, in which the true +principle and plan of tending babies, so as not to rasp their nerves, +but to amuse without wearying them, is very happily suggested. There +is no mother or nurse who would not be assisted by this little manual +essentially. As it says in the beginning,--"Tending babies is an art, +and every art is founded on a science of observations; for love is not +wisdom, but love must act _according to wisdom_ in order to succeed. +Mothers and nurses, however tender and kind-hearted, may, and oftenest +do, weary and vex the nerves of children, in well-meant efforts to amuse +them, and weary themselves the while. Froebel's exercises, founded on +the observations of an intelligent sensibility, are intended to amuse +without wearying, to educate without vexing." + +Froebel's Second Gift for children, adapted to the age from one to two +or three years, with another little book of directions, has also been +published by the same lady, and is perhaps a still greater boon to every +nursery; for this is the age when many a child's temper is ruined, +and the inclination of the twig wrongly bent, through sheer _want of +resource and idea_, on the part of nurses and mothers. + +But it is to the next age--from three years old and upwards--that the +Kindergarten becomes the desideratum, if not a necessity. The isolated +home, made into a flower-vase by the application of the principles set +forth in the Gifts[A] above mentioned, may do for babies. But every +mother and nurse knows how hard it is to meet the demands of a child +too young to be taught to read, but whose opening intelligence and +irrepressible bodily activity are so hard to be met by an adult, however +genial and active. Children generally take the temper of their whole +lives from this period of their existence. Then "the twig is bent," +either towards that habit of self-defence which is an ever-renewing +cause of selfishness, or to the sun of love-in-exercise, which is the +exhaustless source of goodness and beauty. + +[Footnote A: These Gifts, the private enterprise of an invalid lady, the +same who first brought the subject of Kindergartens so favorably before +the public in the _Christian Examiner_ for November, 1858, can be +procured at the Kindergarten, 15 Pinckney Street, Boston.] + +The indispensable thing now is a sufficient society of children. It is +only in the society of equals that the social instinct can be gratified, +and come into equilibrium with the instinct of self-preservation. +Self-love, and love of others, are equally natural; and before reason +is developed, and the proper spiritual life begins, sweet and beautiful +childhood may bloom out and imparadise our mortal life. Let us only give +the social instinct of children its fair chance. For this purpose, a few +will not do. The children of one family are not enough, and do not +come along fast enough. A large company should be gathered out of many +families. It will be found that the little things are at once taken out +of themselves, and become interested in each other. In the variety, +affinities develop themselves very prettily, and the rough points of +rampant individualities wear off. We have seen a highly gifted child, +who, at home, was--to use a vulgar, but expressive word--pesky and +odious, with the exacting demands of a powerful, but untrained mind and +heart, become "sweet as roses" spontaneously, amidst the rebound of +a large, well-ordered, and carefully watched child-society. Anxious +mothers have brought us children, with a thousand deprecations and +explanations of their characters, as if they thought we were going to +find them little monsters, which their motherly hearts were persuaded +they were not, though they behaved like little sanchos at home,--and, +behold, they were as harmonious, from the very beginning, as if they had +undergone the subduing influence of a lifetime. We are quite sure that +children begin with loving others quite as intensely as they love +themselves,--forgetting themselves in their love of others,--if they +only have as fair a chance of being benevolent and self-sacrificing as +of being selfish. Sympathy is as much a natural instinct as self-love, +and no more or less innocent, in a moral point of view. Either principle +alone makes an ugly and depraved form of natural character. Balanced, +they give the element of happiness, and the conditions of spiritual +goodness and truth,--making children fit temples for the Holy Ghost to +dwell in. + +A Kindergarten, then, is children in society,--a commonwealth or +republic of children,--whose laws are all part and parcel of the +Higher Law alone. It may be contrasted, in every particular, with the +old-fashioned school, which is an absolute monarchy, where the children +are subjected to a lower expediency, having for its prime end quietness, +or such order as has "reigned in Warsaw" since 1831. + +But let us not be misunderstood. We are not of those who think that +children, in any condition whatever, will inevitably develop into beauty +and goodness. Human nature tends to revolve in a vicious circle, around +the individuality; and children must have over them, in the person of +a wise and careful teacher, a power which shall deal with them as God +deals with the mature, presenting the claims of sympathy and truth +whenever they presumptuously or unconsciously fall into selfishness. We +have the best conditions of moral culture in a company large enough for +the exacting disposition of the solitary child to be balanced by the +claims made by others on the common stock of enjoyment,--there being +a reasonable oversight of older persons, wide-awake to anticipate, +prevent, and adjust the rival pretensions which must always arise where +there are finite beings with infinite desires, while Reason, whose +proper object is God, is yet undeveloped. + +Let the teacher always take for granted that the law of love is quick +within, whatever are appearances, and the better self will generally +respond. In proportion as the child is young and unsophisticated, will +be the certainty of the response to a teacher of simple faith: + + "There are who ask not if thine eye + Be on them,--who, in love and truth, + Where no misgiving is, rely + Upon the genial sense of youth. + + "And blest are they who in the main + This faith even now do entertain, + Live in the spirit of this creed, + Yet find another strength, according to their + need." + +Such are the natural Kindergartners, who prevent disorder by employing +and entertaining children, so that they are kept in an accommodating and +loving mood by never being thrown on self-defence,--and when selfishness +is aroused, who check it by an appeal to sympathy, or Conscience, which +is the presentiment of reason, a fore-feeling of moral order, for whose +culture material order is indispensable. + +But order must be kept by the child, not only unconsciously, but +intentionally. Order is the child of reason, and in turn cultivates the +intellectual principle. To bring out order on the physical plane, the +Kindergarten makes it a serious purpose to organize _romping_, and set +it to music, which cultivates the physical nature also. Romping is the +ecstasy of the body, and we shall find that in proportion as children +tend to be violent they are vigorous in body. There is always morbid +weakness of some kind where there is no instinct for hard play; and it +begins to be the common sense that energetic physical activity must +not be repressed, but favored. Some plan of play prevents the little +creatures from hurting each other, and fancy naturally furnishes the +plan,--the mind unfolding itself in fancies, which are easily quickened +and led in harmless directions by an adult of any resource. Those who +have not imagination themselves must seek the aid of the Kindergarten +guides, where will be found arranged to music the labors of the peasant, +and cooper, and sawyer, the wind-mill, the watermill, the weather-vane, +the clock, the pigeon-house, the hares, the bees, and the cuckoo. +Children delight to personate animals, and a fine genius could not +better employ itself than in inventing a great many more plays, setting +them to rhythmical words, describing what is to be done. Every variety +of bodily exercise might be made and kept within the bounds of order and +beauty by plays involving the motions of different animals and machines +of industry. Kindergarten plays are easy intellectual exercises; for +to do anything whatever with a thought beforehand develops the mind +or quickens the intelligence; and thought of this kind does not try +intellect, or check physical development, which last must never be +sacrificed in the process of education. + +There are enough instances of marvellous acquisition in infancy to show +that imbibing with the mind is as natural as with the body, if suitable +beverage is put to the lips; but in most cases the mind's power is +balanced by instincts of body, which should have priority, if they +cannot certainly be in full harmony. The mind can afford to wait for the +maturing of the body, for it survives the body; while the body cannot +afford to wait for the mind, but is irretrievably stunted, if the +nervous energy is not free to stimulate its special organs at least +equally with those of the mind. + +It is not, however, necessary to sacrifice the culture of either mind or +body, but to harmonize them. They can and ought to grow together. They +mutually help each other. + +Doctor Dio Lewis's "Free Exercises" are also suitable to the +Kindergarten, and may be taken in short lessons of a quarter of an hour, +or even of ten minutes. Children are fond of precision also, and it will +be found that they like the teaching best, when they are made to do the +exercises exactly right, and in perfect time to the music. + +But the regular gymnastics and the romping plays must be alternated with +quiet employments, of course, but still active. They will sing at their +plays by rote; and also should be taught other songs by rote. But there +can be introduced a regular drill on the scale, which should never last +more than ten minutes at a time. This, if well managed, will cultivate +their ears and voices, so that in the course of a year they will become +very expert in telling any note struck, if not in striking it. The ear +is cultivated sooner than the voice, and they may be taught to name the +octave as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and their imaginations impressed by +drawing a ladder of eight rounds on the blackboard, to signify that the +voice rises by regular gradation. This will fix their attention, and +their interest will not flag, if the teacher has any tact. + +Slates and pencils are indispensable in a Kindergarten from the first. +One side of a slate can be ruled with a sharp point in small squares, +and if their fancy is interested by telling them to make a fish-net, +they will carefully make their pencils follow these lines,--which makes +a first exercise in drawing. Their little fingers are so unmanageable +that at first they will not be able to make straight lines even with +this help. For variety, little patterns can be given them, drawn on +the blackboard, (or on paper similarly ruled,) of picture-frames and +patterns for carpets. When they can make squares well, they can be +shown how to cross them with diagonals, and make circles inside of the +squares, and outside of them, and encouraged to draw on the other side +of the slate, from their own fancy, or from objects. Entire sympathy and +no destructive criticism should meet every effort. Self-confidence is +the first requisite for success. If they think they have had success, it +is indispensable that it should be echoed from without. Of course there +will be poor perspective; and even Schmidt's method of perspective +cannot be introduced to very young children. A natural talent for +perspective sometimes shows itself, which by-and-by can be perfected by +Schmidt's method.[B] + +[Footnote B: See _Common School Journal_ for 1842-3.] + +But little children will not draw long at a time. Nice manipulation, +which is important, can be taught, and the eye for form cultivated, by +drawing for them birds and letting them prick the lines. It will enchant +them to have something pretty to carry home now and then. Perforated +board can also be used to teach them the use of a needle and thread. +They will like to make the outlines of ships and steamboats, birds, +etc., which can be drawn for them with a lead pencil on the board by the +teachers. Weaving strips of colored card-board into papers cut for them +is another enchanting amusement, and can be made subservient to teaching +them the harmonies of colors. In the latter part of the season, when +they have an accumulation of pricked birds, or have learned to draw +them, they can be allowed colors to paint them in a rough manner. It is, +perhaps, worth while to say, that, in teaching children to draw on +their slates, it is better for the teacher to draw at the moment on the +blackboard than to give them patterns of birds, utensils, etc., because +then the children will see how to begin and proceed, and are not +discouraged by the mechanical perfection of their model. + +Drawing ought always rather to precede reading and writing, as the +minute appreciation of forms is the proper preparation for these. But +reading and writing may come into Kindergarten exercises at once, if +reading is taught by the phonic method, (which saves all perplexity to +the child's brain,) and accompanied by printing on the slate. It then +alternates with other things, as one of the amusements. We will describe +how we have seen it taught. The class sat before a blackboard, with +slates and pencils. The teacher said, "Now let us make all the sounds +that we can with the lips: First, put the lips gently together and sound +m," (not _em_,)--which they all did. Then she said,--"Now let us draw +it on the blackboard,--three short straight marks by the side of each +other, and join them on the top,--that is m. What is it?" They sounded +m, and made three marks and joined them on the top, with more or less +success. The teacher said,--"Now put your lips close together and say +p." (This is mute and to be whispered). They all imitated the motion +made. She said,--"Now let us write it; one straight mark, then the +upper lip puffed out at the top." M and p, to be written and +distinguished, are perhaps enough for one lesson, which should not reach +half an hour in length. At the next lesson these were repeated again. +Then the teacher said,--"Now put your lips together and make the same +motion as you did to say p; but make a little more sound, and it will be +b" (which is sonorous). "You must write it differently from p;--you must +make a short mark and put the _under_ lip on." "Now put your teeth on +your under lip and say f." (She gave the power.) "You must write it by +making a short straight mark make a bow, and then cross it with a little +mark across the middle." "Now fix your lips in the same manner and sound +a little, and you will make v. Write it by making two little marks meet +at the bottom." + +This last letter was made a separate lesson of, and the other lessons +were reviewed. The teacher then said,--"Now you have learned some +letters,--all the lip--letters,"--making them over, and asking what each +was. She afterwards added w,--giving its power and form, and put it with +the lip-letters. At the next lesson they were told to make the letters +with their lips, and she wrote them down on the board, and then said,-- +"Now we will make some tooth-letters. Put your teeth together and say +t." (She gave the power, and showed them how to write it.) "Now put your +teeth together and make a sound and it will be d." "That is written just +like b, only we put the lip behind." "Now put your teeth together and +hiss, and then make this little crooked snake (s). Then fix your teeth +in the same manner and buzz like a bee. You write z pointed this way." +"Now put your teeth together and say j, written with a dot." At the +next lessons the throat-letters were given; first the hard guttural +was sounded, and they were told three ways to write it, c, k, q, +distinguished as _round_, _high_, and _with a tail_. C was not sounded +_see_, but _ke_ (ke, ka, ku). Another lesson gave them the soft guttural +g, but did not sound it _jee_; and the aspirate, but did not call it +_aitch_. + +Another lesson gave the vowels, (or voice-letters, as she called them,) +and it was made lively by her writing afterwards all of them in one +word, _mieaou_, and calling it the cat's song. It took from a week +to ten days to teach these letters, one lesson a day of about twenty +minutes. Then came words: mamma, papa, puss, pussy, etc. The vowels were +always sounded as in Italian, and i and y distinguished as _with the +dot_ and _with a tail_. At first only one word was the lesson, and the +letters were reviewed in their divisions of lip-letters, throat-letters, +tooth-letters, voice-letters. The latter were sounded the Italian way, +as in the words _a_rm, _e_gg, _i_nk, _o_ak, and Per_u_. This teacher had +Miss Peabody's "First Nursery Reading-Book," and when she had taught the +class to make all the words on the first page of it, she gave each of +the children the book and told them to find first one word and then +another. It was a great pleasure to them to be told that now they could +read. They were encouraged to copy the words out of the book upon their +slates. + +The "First Nursery Reading-Book" has in it _no_ words that have +exceptions in their spelling to the sounds given to the children as +the powers of the letters. Nor has it any diphthong or combinations of +letters, such as oi, ou, ch, sh, th. After they could read it at sight, +they were told that all words were not so regular, and their attention +was called to the initial sounds of thin, shin, and chin, and to the +proper diphthongs, ou, oi, and au, and they wrote words considering +these as additional characters. Then "Mother Goose" was put into their +hands, and they were made to read by rote the songs they already knew +by heart, and to copy them. It was a great entertainment to find the +_queer_ words, and these were made the nucleus of groups of similar +words which were written on the blackboard and copied on their slates. + +We have thought it worth while to give in detail this method of teaching +to read, because it is the most entertaining to children to be taught +so, and because many successful instances of the pursual of this plan +have come under our observation; and one advantage of it has been, +that the children so taught, though never going through the common +spelling-lessons, have uniformly exhibited a rare exactness in +orthography. + +In going through this process, the children learn to print very nicely, +and generally can do so sooner than they can read. It is a small matter +afterwards to teach them to turn the print into script. They should be +taught to write with the lead pencil before the pen, whose use need not +come into the Kindergarten. + +But we must not omit one of the most important exercises for children +in the Kindergarten,--that of block-building. Froebel has four Gifts of +blocks. Ronge's "Kindergarten Guide" has pages of royal octavo filled +with engraved forms that can be made by variously laying eight little +cubes and sixteen little planes two inches long, one inch broad, and +one-half an inch thick. Chairs, tables, stables, sofas, garden-seats, +and innumerable forms of symmetry, make an immense resource for +children, who also should be led to invent other forms and imitate other +objects. So quick are the fancies of children, that the blocks will +serve also as symbols of everything in Nature and imagination. We have +seen an ingenious teacher assemble a class of children around her large +table, to each of whom she had given the blocks. The first thing was to +count them, a great process of arithmetic to most of them. Then she made +something and explained it. It was perhaps a light-house,--and some +blocks would represent rocks near it to be avoided, and ships sailing in +the ocean; or perhaps it was a hen-coop, with chickens inside, and a fox +prowling about outside, and a boy who was going to catch the fox and +save the fowls. Then she told each child to make something, and when it +was done hold up a hand. The first one she asked to explain, and then +went round the class. If one began to speak before another had ended, +she would hold up her finger and say,--"It is not your turn." In the +course of the winter, she taught, over these blocks, a great deal about +the habits of animals. She studied natural history in order to be +perfectly accurate in her symbolic representation of the habitation of +each animal, and their enemies were also represented by blocks. The +children imitated these; and when they drew upon their imaginations for +facts, and made fantastic creations, she would say,--"Those, I think, +were Fairy hens" (or whatever); for it was her principle to accept +everything, and thus tempt out their invention. The great value of this +exercise is to get them into the habit of representing something they +have thought by an outward symbol. The explanations they are always +eager to give teach them to express themselves in words. Full scope is +given to invention, whether in the direction of possibilities or of the +impossibilities in which children's imaginations revel,--in either case +the child being trained to the habit of embodiment of its thought. + +Froebel thought it very desirable to have a garden where the children +could cultivate flowers. He had one which he divided into lots for the +several children, reserving a portion for his own share in which they +could assist him. He thought it the happiest mode of calling their +attention to the invisible God, whose power must be waited upon, after +the conditions for growth are carefully arranged according to _laws_ +which they were to observe. Where a garden is impossible, a flowerpot +with a plant in it for each child to take care of would do very well. + +But the best way to cultivate a sense of the presence of God is to draw +the attention to the conscience, which is very active in children, and +which seems to them (as we all can testify from our own remembrance) +another than themselves, and yet themselves. We have heard a person say, +that in her childhood she was puzzled to know which was herself, the +voice of her inclination or of her conscience, for they were palpably +two, and what a joyous thing it was when she was first convinced that +one was the Spirit of God, whom unlucky teaching had previously embodied +in a form of terror on a distant judgment-seat. Children are consecrated +as soon as they get the spiritual idea, and it may be so presented that +it shall make them happy as well as true. But the adult who enters into +such conversation with a child must be careful not to shock and profane, +instead of nurturing the soul. It is possible to avoid both discouraging +and flattering views, and to give the most tender and elevating +associations. + +But children require not only an alternation of physical and mental +amusements, but some instruction to be passively received. They delight +in stories, and a wise teacher can make this subservient to the highest +uses by reading beautiful creations of the imagination. Not only such +household-stories as "Sanford and Merton," Mrs. Farrar's "Robinson +Crusoe," and Salzmann's "Elements of Morality," but symbolization like +the heroes of Asgard, the legends of the Middle Ages, classic and +chivalric tales, the legend of Saint George, and "Pilgrim's Progress," +can in the mouth of a skilful reader be made subservient to moral +culture. The reading sessions should not exceed ten or fifteen minutes. + +Anything of the nature of scientific teaching should be done by +presenting _objects_ for examination and investigation.[C] Flowers and +insects, shells, etc., are easily handled. The observations should be +drawn out of the children, not made to them, except as corrections of +their mistakes. Experiments with the prism, and in crystallization +and transformation, are useful and desirable to awaken taste for +the sciences of Nature. In short, the Kindergarten should give the +beginnings of everything. "What is well begun is half done." + +[Footnote C: Calkin's _Object Lessons_ will give hints.] + +We must say a word about the locality and circumstances of a +Kindergarten. There is published in Lausanne, France, a newspaper +devoted to the interests of this mode of education, in whose early +numbers is described a Kindergarten; which seems to be of the nature of +a boarding-school, or, at least, the children are there all day. Each +child has a garden, and there is one besides where they work in common. +There are accommodations for keeping animals, and miniature tools to do +mechanical labor of various kinds. In short, it is a child's world. But +in this country, especially in New England, parents would not consent +to be so much separated from their children, and a few hours of +Kindergarten in the early part of the day will serve an excellent +purpose,--using up the effervescent activity of children, who may +healthily be left to themselves the rest of the time, to play or rest, +comparatively unwatched. + +Two rooms are indispensable, if there is any variety of age. It is +desirable that one should be sequestrated to the quiet employments. A +pianoforte is desirable, to lead the singing, and accompany the plays, +gymnastics, frequent marchings, and dancing, when that is taught,--which +it should be. But a hand-organ which plays fourteen tunes will help to +supply the want of a piano, and a guitar in the hands of a ready teacher +will do better than nothing. + +Sometimes a genial mother and daughters might have a Kindergarten, and +devote themselves and the house to it, especially if they live in one +of our beautiful country-towns or cities. The habit, in the city of New +York, of sending children to school in an omnibus, hired to go round the +city and pick them up, suggests the possibility of a Kindergarten in one +of those beautiful residences up in town, where there is a garden before +or behind the house. It is impossible to keep Kindergarten _by the +way_. It must be the main business of those who undertake it; for it is +necessary that every individual child should be borne, as it were, on +the heart of the _garteners_, in order that it be _inspired_ with order, +truth, and goodness. To develop a child from within outwards, we must +plunge ourselves into its peculiarity of imagination and feeling. No +one person could possibly endure such absorption, of life in labor +unrelieved, and consequently two or three should unite in the +undertaking in order to be able to relieve each other from the enormous +strain on life. The compensations are, however, great. The charm of the +various individuality, and of the refreshing presence of conscience yet +unprofaned, is greater than can be found elsewhere in this work-day +world. Those were not idle words which came from the lips of Wisdom +Incarnate:--"Their angels do always behold the face of my Father": "Of +such is the kingdom of heaven." + + + + +A PICTURE. + +[AFTER WITHER.] + + + Sweet child, I prithee stand, + While I try my novel hand + At a portrait of thy face, + With its simple childish grace. + + Cheeks as soft and finely hued + As the fleecy cloud imbued + With the roseate tint of morn + Ere the golden sun is born:-- + Lips that like a rose-hedge curl, + Guarding well the gates of pearl, + --What care I for pearly gate? + By the rose-hedge will I wait:-- + Chin that rounds with outline fine, + Melting off in hazy line; + As in misty summer noon, + Or beneath the harvest moon, + Curves the smooth and sandy shore, + Flowing off in dimness hoar:-- + Eyes that roam like timid deer + Sheltered by a thicket near, + Peeping out between the boughs, + Or that, trusting, safely browse:-- + Arched o'er all the forehead pure, + Giving us the prescience sure + Of an ever-growing light; + As in deepening summer night, + Over fields to ripen soon + Hangs the silver crescent moon. + + * * * * * + + +TWO AND ONE. + + +I. + + +The winter sun streamed pleasantly into the room. On the tables lay the +mother's work of the morning,--the neatly folded clothes she had just +been ironing. A window was opened a little way to let some air into the +room too closely heated by the brisk fire. The air fanned the leaves of +the ivy-plant that stood in the window, and of the primrose which +seemed ready to open in the warm sun. Above, there hung a cage, and a +canary-bird shouted out now and then its pleasure at the sunny day, with +a half-dream perhaps of a tropical climate in the tropical air with +which the coal-fire filled the room. Mrs. Schroder leaned back in her +old-fashioned rocking-chair, and folded her hands, one over the other, +ready to rest after her morning's labor. She was willing to take the +repose won by her work; indeed, this was the only way she had managed to +preserve her strength for all the work it was necessary for her to do. +She had been conscious that her powers had answered for just so much and +no more, and she had never been able to make further demands upon them. + +When years before she was left a widow, with two sons to support and +educate, all her friends and neighbors prophesied that her health would +prove unequal to either work, and agreed that it was very fortunate that +she had a rich relation or two to help her. But, unfortunately, the rich +relations preferred helping only in their own way. One uncle agreed to +send the older boy to his father's relations in Germany, while the other +wished to take the younger with him to his home in the South; and an +aunt-in-law promised Mrs. Schroder work enough as seamstress to support +herself. + +It is singular how hard it is, for those who have large means and +resources, to understand how to supply the little wants and needs of +those less fortunate. The smallest stream in the mountains will find its +way through some little channel, over rocks, or slowly through quiet +meadows, into the great rivers, and finally feeds the deep sea, which +is very thankless, and thinks little of restoring what is so prodigally +poured into it. It only knows how to sway up with its grand tide upon +the broad beaches, or to wrestle with turreted rocks, or, for some +miles, perhaps, up the great rivers, it is willing to leave some flavor +of its salt strength. So it is that we little ones, to the last, pour +out our little stores into the great seas of wealth,--and the Neptunes, +the gods of riches, scarcely know how to return us our due, if they +would. + +When Mrs. Schroder, then, refused these kindly offers, because she knew +that her husband had wished his boys should be brought up together and +in America, and because she could not separate them from each other or +from herself, the relations thought best to leave her to her own will, +and drew back, feeling that they had done their part for humanity and +kinship. Now and then Mrs. Schroder received a present of a worn +shawl or a bonnet out of date, and one New Year there came inclosed a +dollar-bill apiece for the boys. Ernest threw his into the fire before +his mother could stop him, while Harry said he would spend his for the +very meanest thing he could think of; and that very night he bought some +sausages with it, to satisfy, as he said, only their lowest wants. + +Mrs. Schroder succeeded in carrying out her will, in spite of prophecy. +Her very delicacy of body led her to husband her strength, while the +boys very early learned that they must help their mother to get through +her day's work. Her feebleness of health helped her, too, in another +way,--by stopping their boy-quarrels. + +"Boys, don't wrangle so! If you knew how it makes my head ache!" + +When these words came from the mother resting in her chair, the quarrel +ceased suddenly. It ended without settlement, to be sure, which is the +best way of finishing up quarrels. There are always seeds of new wars +sown in treaties of peace. Austria is not content with her share of +Poland, and Russia privately determines upon another bite of Turkey. +John thinks it very unjust that he must give up his ball to Tom, and +resolves to have the matter out when they get down into the street; +while Tom, equally dissatisfied, feels that he has been treated like a +baby, and despises the umpire for the partial decision. + +These two boys, indeed, had their perpetual quarrel. Harry, the older, +always got on in the world. He had a strong arm, a jolly face, and a +solid opinion of himself that made its way without his asking for it. +Ernest, on the other hand, was obliged to be constantly dependent on his +brother for defence, for his position with other boys at school,--as he +grew up, for his position in life, even. Harry was the favorite always. +The schoolmaster--or teacher, as we call him nowadays--liked Harry best, +although he was always in scrapes, and often behindhand in his studies, +while Ernest was punctual, quiet, and always knew his lessons, though +his eyes looked dreamily through his books rather than into them. + +Harry had great respect for Ernest's talent, made way for it, would +willingly work for him. Ernest accepted these benefits: he could not +help it, they were so generously offered. But the consciousness that +he could not live without them weighed him down and made him moody. He +alternately reproached himself for his ingratitude, and his brother for +his favors. Sometimes he called himself a slave for being willing to +accept them; at other times he would blame himself as a tyrant for +making such demands upon an elder brother. + +As Mrs. Schroder leaned back in her chair after her morning's labor, +the door opened, and a young girl came into the room. She had a fresh, +bright face, a brown complexion, a full, round figure. She came in +quickly, nodded cheerily to Mrs. Schroder, and knelt down in front of +the fire to warm her hands. + +"I did want to come in this morning," she said,--"the very last day! I +should have liked to help you about Ernest's things. But Aunt Martha +must needs have a supernumerary wash, and I have just come in from +hanging the last of the clothes upon the line." + +"It is very good of you, Violet," answered Mrs. Schroder, "but I was +glad to-day to have plenty to do. It is the thinking that troubles me. +My boys are grown up into men, and Ernest is going! It is our first +parting. To-day I would rather work than think." + +Violet was the young girl's name. A stranger might think that the name +did not suit her. In her manner was nothing of the shrinking nature that +is a characteristic of the violet. Timidity and reserve she probably did +have somewhere in her heart,--as all women do,--but it had never been +her part to play them out. She had all her life been called upon to show +only energy, activity, and self-reliance. She was an only child, and +had been obliged to be son and daughter, brother and sister in one. Her +father was the owner of the house in which were the rooms occupied by +Mrs. Schroder and her sons. The little shop on the lower floor was his +place of business. He was a watchmaker, had a few clocks on the shelves +of his small establishment, and a limited display of jewelry in the +window, together with a supply of watch-keys, and minute-hands and +hour-hands for decayed watches. For though his sign proclaimed him a +watchmaker, his occupation perforce was rather that of repairing and +cleaning watches and clocks than in the higher branch of creation. + +Violet's childhood was happy enough. She was left in unrestrained +liberty outside of the little back-parlor, where her Aunt Martha +held sway. Out of school-hours, her joy and delight were to join the +school-boys in their wildest plays. She climbed fences, raced up and +down alley-ways, stormed inoffensive door-yards, chased wandering +cats with the best of them. She was a favorite champion among the +boys,--placed at difficult points of espionage, whether it were over +beast, man, woman, or boy. She was proud of mounting some imaginary +rampart, or defending some dangerous position. Sometimes a taunt was +hurled from the enemy upon her allies for associating with a "girl;" but +it always received a contemptuous answer,--"You'd better look out, she +could lick any one of you!" And at the reply, Violet would look down +from her post on the picketed fence, shake her long curls triumphantly, +and climb to some place inaccessible to the enemy, to show how useful +her agility could be to her own party. + +The time of sorrow came at twilight, when the boys separated for their +homes,--when Harry and Ernest clattered up to their mother's rooms. They +could be boys still. They might throw open the house-doors with a +shout and halloo, and fling away caps and boots with no more than an +uncared-for reprimand. But Violet must go noiselessly through the dark +entry, and, as she turned to close the door that let her into the +parlor, she was greeted by Aunt Martha's "Now do shut the door quietly!" +As she lowered the latch without any sound, she would say to herself, +"Why is it that boys must have all the fun, and girls all the work?" +She felt as if she shut out liberty and put on chains. Her work began +then,--to lay the tea-table, to fetch and carry as Aunt Martha ordered. +All this was pleasanter than the quiet evening that followed, because +she liked the occupation and motion. But to be quiet the whole evening, +that was a trial! After the tea-things were cleared away, she would +sit awhile by the stove, imagining all sorts of excitements in the +combustion within; but she could not keep still long without letting a +clatter of shovel and tongs, or some vigorous blows of the poker, show +what a glorious drum she thought the stove would make. Or if Aunt Martha +suggested her unloved and neglected dolls, she would retire to the +corner with them inevitably to come back in disgrace. Either the large +wooden-headed doll came noisily down from the high-backed chair, where +she had been placed as the Maid of Saragossa, or a suspicious smell of +burning arose, when Joan of Arc really did take fire from the candle on +her imaginary funeral-pile. Knitting was no more of a sedative, though +for many years it had stilled Aunt Martha's nerves. It was singular how +the cat contrived always to get hold of Violet's ball of yarn and keep +it, in spite of Violet's activity and the jolly chase she had for it all +round the room, over chairs and under tables. Even her father, during +these long evenings, often looked up over his round spectacles, through +which he was perusing a volume of the "Encyclopedia," to wonder if +Violet could never be quiet. + +As she grew up, there was activity enough in her life, through which her +temperament could let off its steam: a large house to be cared for and +kept in order, some of the lodgers to be waited upon, and Aunt Martha, +with her failing strength, more exacting than ever. Her evenings now +were her happy times, for she frequently spent them in Mrs. Schroder's +room. One of the economies in the Schroders' life was that their +pleasures were so cheap. What with Harry's genial gayety and Ernest's +spiritual humor, and the gayety and humor of the friends that loved +them, they did not have to pay for their hilarity on the stage. There +were quiet evenings and noisy ones, and Violet liked them both. She +liked to study languages with Ernest; she liked the books from the +City Library that they read aloud,--romances that were taken for +Mrs. Schroder's pleasure, Ruskins which Ernest enjoyed, and Harry's +favorites, which, to tell the truth, were few. He begged to be made the +reader,--otherwise, he confessed, he was in danger of falling asleep. + +Violet had grown up into a woman, and the boys had become men; and now +she was kneeling in front of Mrs. Schroder's fire. + +"Ernest's last day at home," she said, dreamily. "Oh, now I begin to +pity Harry!" + +"To pity Harry?" said Mrs. Schroder. "Yes, indeed! But it is Ernest that +I think of most. He is going away among strangers. He depends upon Harry +far more than Harry depends upon him." + +"It is just that," said Violet. "Harry has always been the one to give. +But it will be changed now, when Ernest comes home. You see, he will be +great then. He has been dependent upon us, all along, because genius +must move so slowly at first; but when he comes back, he will be above +us, and, oh! how shall we know where to find him?" + +"You do not mean that my boy will look down upon his mother?" said Mrs. +Schroder, raising herself in her chair. + +"Look down upon us?" cried Violet. "Oh, no! it is only the little that +do that, that they may appear to be high. The truly great never look +down. They are kneeling already, and they look up. If they only would +look down upon us! But it is the old story: the body can do for a while +without the spirit, can make its way in the world for a little, and +meantime the spirit is dependent upon the body. Of course it could not +live without the body,--what we call life. But by-and-by spirit must +assert itself, and find its wings. And where, oh, where, will it rise +to? Above us,--above us all!" + +"How strangely you talk!" said Mrs. Schroder, looking into Violet's +face. "What has this to do with poor Ernest?" + +"I was thinking of poor Harry," said Violet. "All this time he has been +working for Ernest. Harry has earned the money with which Ernest goes +abroad,--which he has lived upon all these years,--not only his daily +bread, but what his talent, his genius, whatever it is, has fed itself +with. Ernest is too unpractical to have been able even to feed himself!" + +"And he knows it, my poor Ernest!" said Mrs. Schroder. "This is why +he should be pitied. It is hard for a generous nature to owe all to +another. It has weighed Ernest down; it has embittered the love of the +two brothers." + +"But it is more bitter for Harry," persisted Violet. "All this time +Ernest could think of the grand return he could bring when his time +should come. But Harry! He brings the clay out of which Ernest moulds +the statue; but the spirit that Ernest breathes into the form,--will +Harry understand it or appreciate it? The body is very reverent of the +soul. But I think the spirit is not grateful enough to the body. There +comes a time when it says to it, 'I can do without thee!' and spurns the +kind comrade which has helped it on so far. Yet it could not have done +without the joy of color and form, of sight and hearing, that the body +has helped it to." + +"You do not mean that Ernest will ever spurn Harry?--they are brothers!" +said poor Mrs. Schroder. + +Violet looked round and saw the troubled expression in Mrs. Schroder's +face, and laughed as she laid her head caressingly in her friend's lap. + +"I have frightened you with my talk," she said. "I believe the hot air +in the room bewildered my senses and set me dreaming. Yes, Harry and +Ernest are brothers, and I believe they will always work together and +for each other. I have no business with forebodings, this laughing, +sunny day. The March sun is melting the icicles, and they came +clattering down upon me, as I was in the yard, with a happy, twinkling, +childish laugh. There are spring sounds all about, water melting and +dripping everywhere, full of joy. I am the last person, dear mother +Schroder, to make you feel sad." + +Violet got up quickly, and busied herself about the room: filled the +canary's cup with water, drew out the table, and made all the usual +preparations necessary for dinner, talking all the time gayly, till she +had dispersed all the clouds on Mrs. Schroder's brow, and then turned to +go away. + +"You will stay and see Harry and Ernest?" asked Mrs. Schroder. "They +have gone to make the last arrangements." + +"Not now," said Violet. "They will like to be alone with you. I will see +Ernest to bid him good-bye." + + +II. + + +Two years passed away. At the end of this time Mrs. Schroder died. They +had passed on, as years go, slowly and quickly. Sometimes, as a carriage +takes us through narrow city-streets, and we look in at the windows we +are passing, we wonder at the close life that is going on behind them, +and we say to ourselves, "How slow the life must be within those +confined walls!" At other times, when our own life is cramped or jarred +by circumstances, we look with envy on the happy family-circles we see +smiling within, and have a fancy that the roses have fallen to others, +and we only have the thorns. There are full years, and there are years +of famine, just as there come moments to all that seem like a life-time, +and lives that hurry themselves away in a passing of the pendulum. It is +of no use to shake the hour-glass; yet, when we are counting upon time, +the sands hurry down like snow-flakes. + +It was true, as Violet had foreboded, that Harry missed Ernest. He went +heavily about his work, and the house seemed silent without him. Harry +confessed this sadly to Violet, when his brother had been gone about a +year. They had heard from Ernest in Florence, that he was getting on +well. He had found occupation in the workshop of a famous sculptor, and +had time besides to carry out some of his own designs. + +"He writes me," said Harry, "that he will be able now to support +himself, and that he does not need my help. Do you know, Violet, that +takes the life out of me? I feel as if I had nothing to work for. I +always felt a pride in working for Ernest, because I thought he was +fitted for something better. Violet, it saddens me to think he can do +without me. I go to my daily work; I lift my hammer and let it fall; but +it is all mechanically; there is no vital force in the blow. It is hard +to live without him." + +"This is what I was afraid of," said Violet. "I was afraid he would +think he could do without us. But he cannot do without you." + +"Say that he cannot do without _us_" said Harry; "for he needs you, as I +need you, and the question is, with which the need is greater." + +Violet turned red and pale, and said,-- + +"We cannot answer that question yet." + +After Mrs. Schroder died, it was sad enough in the old rooms. In the +daytime, when Harry was away at his work, Violet would go up-stairs and +put all things in order, and make them look as nearly as possible as +they did when the mother was there. Harry came to pass his evenings with +Violet. + +A few days after his mother's death, he said to Violet,-- + +"Is it not time for you to tell me that it is I who need you more than +Ernest? He writes very happily now. He is succeeding; he has an order +for his statue. He writes and thinks of nothing else but what he will +create,--of the ideas that have been waiting for an expression. I am a +carpenter still, I shall never be more, and my work will always be less +and lower than my love. Could you be satisfied with him? He has attained +now, Ernest has, what he was looking for; and have I not a right to my +reward?" + +The tears tumbled from Violet's eyes. + +"Dear, noble Harry! I am not ready for you yet. I do believe he is above +us both, and satisfied to be above us both; but I am not ready yet." + +A day or two afterwards, Harry brought Violet a letter from Italy. It +was from an artist friend of Ernest's, whose wife and mother had kindly +received him into their home. Carlo wrote now that Ernest had been taken +very ill. They thought him recovering, but he was still very low, and +his mind depressed, and he continued scarcely conscious of those around +him. He talked wildly, and begged that his home friends would come to +him; and though his new Italian friends promised him all that kindness +could give, Carlo wrote to ask if it were not possible for his brother +or his mother to come out. He had been working very hard, was just +finishing an order that had occupied him the last year, and he had +overtasked his mind as well as his body. + +"You will go to him!" exclaimed Violet, when she had read the letter. + +"If nothing better can be done," answered Harry. "Only yesterday I made +a contract for work with a hard master. It would be difficult to break +it; but I will do it gladly, if there is nothing better to be done." + +"You mean that you would like to have me go to Ernest," said Violet. + +"Will you go?" asked Harry. "That will be the very best thing." + +Aunt Martha broke in here. She had been sitting quietly at the other +side of the table, as usual, apparently engrossed with her knitting. + +"You do not mean to send Violet to Italy, and to take care of Ernest?" +she exclaimed. "What are you thinking of? I would never consent to +Violet's going alone; it would not be proper." + +Violet grew crimson at the reproof. She was standing beneath the light, +and turned away her head. + +"Not if I were Harry's betrothed?" she asked. + +Aunt Martha looked up quickly. She saw the glad, relieved expression of +Harry's face. + +"If you are engaged to Harry, that is different, indeed!" she said. + +It did make a difference in Aunt Martha's thoughts. In the first place, +it gave her pleasure. Harry was well-to-do in, the world. He would make +a good husband for Violet, and a kindly one. She liked him better than +she did Ernest. She had supposed Violet would marry one or other of the +boys, and, "just because things went at cross-grain in the world," she +had always supposed Violet would prefer Ernest. She had never liked him +herself. He was always spinning cobwebs in his brain; she never could +understand a word of his talk. She did not believe he would live, and +then Violet would be left a poor widow, as his mother had been left when +her Hermann died. She remembered all about that. Ernest's absence had +encouraged her with regard to Harry; but two years had passed, and it +seemed to her the two were no nearer an engagement. + +But now it was settled; and if this foolish plan of Violet's going to +Italy had brought it about, the plan itself wore a different color. + +Aunt Martha said no more of the impropriety. She reserved her +complainings for the subject of the trouble of getting Violet ready, all +of a sudden, for such a voyage. + +Little trouble fell to Aunt Martha's share. Violet went about it gladly. +She advised directly with a friend who could tell her from experience +exactly how little she would want, while Harry completed all the +business arrangements. The activity, the adventure of it, suited +Violet's old tastes. She had no dread of a solitary voyage, of passing +through countries whose languages she could not speak. Though burdened +with anxiety for Ernest and for Harry, she went away with a glad heart. +Unconsciously to herself, she reversed her old exclamation, saying to +herself,-- + +"The men, indeed, should not have all the work, and the women all the +play!" + +The journey was in fact easily accomplished. At another time Violet's +thoughts would have been occupied with the scenes she passed through. +Now she travelled as a devotee travels heavenward, making a monastery of +the world, and convent-walls out of rays from Paradise. She thought +only of the end of her journey; and everything touched her through the +throbbings of her heart. On shipboard, she was busy with the poor old +sick father whom his children were carrying home to his native land. In +passing through Paris, she used all her time in helping a sister to find +a brother; because her energy was always helpful. In travelling across +France, she looked at her companions, asking herself to what home they +were going, what friends they were bound to meet. From Marseilles to +Leghorn, she was the only one of the women-passengers who was not sick; +and she was called upon for help in different languages, which she could +understand only through the teachings of her heart. + +It was this same teacher that led her to understand Ernest's friends in +Florence, when she had found them, and that led them to understand her. +Ernest was in much the same state as when they wrote. He was growing +stronger, but his mind seemed to wander. + +"And do you know, dear lady," said Monica, Carlo's mother, "that we fear +he has been starving,--starving, too, when we, his friends, had plenty, +and would have been glad to give him? He was to have been paid for his +work when he had finished it; and he had given up his other work for his +master, that be might complete his own statue. Oh, you should see that! +He is putting it into the marble,--or taking it out, rather, for it has +life almost, and springs from the stone." + +"But Ernest?" asked Violet. + +"Well, then, just for want of money, he was starving,--so the doctor +says, now. I suppose he was too proud to write home for money, and his +wages had stopped. And he was too proud to eat our bread. That was hard +of him. Just the poor food that we have, to think he should have been +too proud to let us give it him!--that was not kind." + +Ernest did not recognize Violet at first, but she took her place in the +daily care of him. Monica begged that she would prepare food for him +such as he had been used to have at home. She was very sure that would +cure him. It would be almost as good for him as his native air. She +was very glad a woman had come to take care of him. "His brother's +betrothed,--a sister,--she would bring him back to life as no one else +could." + +Violet did bring him back to life. Ernest had become so accustomed to +her presence in his half-conscious state, that he never showed surprise +at finding her there. He hardly showed pleasure; only in her absence his +feverish restlessness returned; in her presence he was quiet. + +He grew strong enough to come out into the air to walk a little. + +"I must go to work soon," he said one day. "Monsieur will be coming for +his Psyche." + +"Your Psyche! I have not seen it!" exclaimed Violet. "I have not dared +to raise the covering." + +They went in to look at it. Violet stood silent before it. Yes, as +Monica had said, it was ready to spring from the marble. It seemed +almost too spiritual for form, it scarcely needed the wings for flight, +it was ethereal already,--marble only so long as it remained unfinished. + +At last Violet spoke. + +"Do not let it go! Do not finish it; it will leave the marble then, I +know! Oh, Ernest, you have seen the spirit, and the spirit only! Could +not you hold it to earth more closely than that? It was too bold a +thought of you to try to mould the spirit alone. Is not the body +precious, too? Why wilt you be so careless of that?" + +"If the body would care for me," said Ernest, "I would care for the +body. Indeed, this work shows that I have cared for the body," he went +on. "One of these days, I shall receive money for my work; I have +already sold my Psyche. One lives on money, you know. But it is but a +poor battle,--the battle of life. I shall finish my Psyche, give it to +the man who buys it, and then"---- + +"And then you will come home, come home to us!" said Violet; "and we +will take care of you. You shall not miss your Psyche!" + +"And then," continued Ernest, shaking his head, "then I shall go into +Sicily. I shall help Garibaldi. I shall join the Italian cause." + +"Garibaldi! The cause!" exclaimed Violet. "Are you not ashamed to plead +it? You know you would go then not for others, but to throw away your +own life! You are tired of living, and you seek that way to rid yourself +of life! Confess it at once!" + +"Very well, then," answered Ernest, "it is so." + +"Then do not sully a good cause with a traitor's help," said Violet, +"nor take its noble name. The life you offer would be worth no more than +a spent ball. You have been a coward in your own fight, and Garibaldi +does not--nor does Italy--want a coward in his ranks. Oh, Ernest, +forgive me my hard words! but it is our life that you are spending so +freely, it is our blood that you want to pour out! If you cannot live +for yourself, for me, will you not live for Harry's sake?" + +"For you, for you, Heart's-Ease!" exclaimed Ernest, calling Violet by +one of her old childish names, "But Harry lives for you, and you for +him; and God knows there is no life left for me. But you are right: I am +a coward and a bungler, because I can create no life. I give myself to +you and him." + +Violet stood long before the statue of Psyche, cold as the marble, with +hot fires raging within. + +"He loves me, loves me as Harry does! His love is deeper, +perhaps,--higher, perhaps. He was not above me,--he lifted me above +himself, looked up to me! He dies for me!" + +Presently she found Ernest. + +"Ernest, you say you will do as we wish. I must go home directly, and +without you. I shall take a vessel from Leghorn. Harry and I planned my +going home that way. It is less expensive, more direct; and I confess I +do not feel so strong about going home alone as I did in coming. My head +is full of thoughts, and I could not take care of myself; but I would +rather go alone. You will stay here, and we will write to you, or Harry +will come for you. But you must take care of yourself; you must not +starve yourself." + +Her Italian friends accompanied her to the vessel and bade her good-bye, +Ernest was with them. She wrote to Harry the day she sailed. The vessel +looked comfortable enough; it was well-laden, and in its hold was the +marble statue of a great man,--great in worth as well as in weight. + +A few weeks after Violet left, Harry appeared in Florence. He had just +missed her letter. + +"I came to bring you both home," he said. "I finished my contract +successfully, and gave myself this little vacation." + +Harry was dismayed to find that Violet was gone. + +"But we will return directly, and arrive in time, perhaps, to greet her +as she gets home." + +Monica urged,-- + +"But you must not keep him long. See how much he has done in Italy! You +will see he must come back again." + +"Monsieur" had been for his statue, and was to send for it the next day, +more than satisfied with it. + +Harry was astonished. + +"Five hundred dollars! It would take me long enough to work that out! +Ah, Ernest, your hammering is worth more than mine!" + +Harry's surprise was not merely for the money earned. When he saw the +white marble figure, which brought into the poor room where it stood +grandeur and riches and life and grace, he wondered still more. + +"I see now," he said. "You spent your life on this. No wonder you were +starving when your spirit was putting itself into this mould!" + +Harry was in a hurry to return. Ernest's little affairs were quickly +settled. Harry was surprised to find Italian life was so like home life +in this one thing: he had been treated so kindly, just as he would have +been in his own home,--just as Mrs. Schroder, and even Aunt Martha, +would have treated a poor Italian stranger who had sought a lodging in +their house; they had welcomed Harry with the same warmth and feeling +with which they had all along cared for Ernest. This was something that +Harry knew how to translate. + +"When we were boys," he said to Ernest, as they set out to return, "and +you used to talk about Europe, we little thought I should travel into it +so carelessly as I did when I came here. I crossed it much as a pair of +compasses would on the map: my only points of rest were the home I left +and the one I was reaching for." + +Much in the same way they passed through it again. Harry spoke of +and observed outward things, but everything showed that it was but a +superficial observation. His thoughts were with Violet. + +"'The Nereïd!' are you very sure the Nereïd is a sound vessel?" he often +asked. + +"What should I know of the Nereïd?" at last answered Ernest, +impatiently. + +"I believe you don't care a rush for Violet!" cried Harry. "You can have +dreams instead! Your Psyche, your winged angels and all your visions, +they suffice you. While for me,--I tell you, Ernest, she is my flesh and +blood, my meat and drink. To think of her alone on that ocean drives me +wild; that inexorable sea haunts me night and day." He turned to look at +Ernest, and saw him pale and livid. + +"God forgive me!" he said. "I know you love her, too! But it is our old +quarrel; we cannot understand each other, yet cannot live either of us +without the other. Yet I am glad to quarrel even in the old way. That is +pleasant, after all, is it not?" + +They had a long, stormy voyage home; and a delay in crossing France had +made them miss the steamer they hoped to take. At each delay, Ernest +grew more silent, sadder, his face darker, his features thinner and more +sharpened. Harry was wild in his impatience, and angry, but more and +more thoughtful and careful for Ernest. + +At last they reached the harbor. A friend met them who had been warned +of their arrival by telegraph from Halifax. He met them to tell them of +ill news; they would rather hear it from him. + +The Nereïd was lost,--lost just outside the Bay,--the vessel, the crew, +all the passengers,--in a fearful storm of a week ago, the very storm +that had delayed their own passage. + +"Let us go home," said Harry. "Where is it?" asked Ernest. "Why were we +not lost in the same storm?" cried Harry. "How could we pass quietly +along the very place?" + +The brothers went home into the old room. Kindly hands had been caring +for it,--had tried to place all things in their accustomed order. Even +the canary had come back from Aunt Martha's parlor. + +There was a letter on the table. Harry saw that only. It was Violet's +letter, which she wrote on leaving Leghorn. He tore it from its +cover,--then gave it, opened, to Ernest. + +"You must read it for me,--I cannot!" and he hurried into an inner room. + +Ernest held the letter helplessly and looked round. For him there was +a double desolation in the room. The books stood untouched upon the +shelves; his mother's work-basket was laid aside. Suddenly there came +back to him the memory of that last day at home,--the joyous spring-day +in March,--which was so full of gay sounds. The clatter of the dropping +ice, the happy laugh of the water breaking into freedom, the song of the +canary, now hushed by the presence of strangers,--the thoughts of these +made gay even that moment of parting. And with them came the image of +the dear mother and of the warm-hearted Violet. Oh, the parting was +happier than the return! Now there was silence in the room, and +absence,--such unuse about all things,--such a terrible stillness! He +longed for a voice, for a sound, for words. + +In his hands were words, her own, her last words. Half unconsciously he +read through the letter, as if unwillingly too, because it might not +belong to him. Yet they were her words, and for him. + +"DEAR HARRY,-- + +"Do you know that I love him?--that I love Ernest? I ought to have known +it, just because I did not know how to confess it to myself or you. I +thought he was above us both; and when I pitied myself that he could not +love me, I pitied you, and my pity, perhaps, I mistook for love of you. +Perhaps I mistook it, for I know not but I was conscious all the time of +loving him. I learned the truth when I stood by the side of his Psyche, +and saw, that, though she hovered from the marble, though he had won +fame and success, he was unsatisfied still. It is true, he must always +remain unsatisfied, because it is his genius that thirsts, and it is my +ideal that he loves, not me. But he is dying; he asks for me. You never +could refuse him what he asked. You will give me to him? If you were not +so generous and noble-hearted, I could not ask you both for your pardon +and your pity. But you are both, and will do with me as you will. + +"Your + +"VIOLET." + +As Ernest finished reading, as he was fully comprehending the meaning of +the words which at first had struck him idly, Harry opened the door and +came in. Ernest could not look up at first. He thought, perhaps, he was +about to darken the sorrow already heavy enough upon his brother. + +But when Harry spoke and Ernest looked into his face, he saw there the +usual clear, strong expression. + +"I am going to tell you, Ernest, what I should have said before,--what I +went to Florence to tell you. + +"After Violet left, the whole truth began to come upon me. She loved +you; I had no right to her. She pitied me; that was why she clung to +me. You know I cannot think quickly. It was long before it all came out +clearly; but when it did come, I was anxious to act directly. I had +finished my work; I went to tell you that Violet was yours; she should +stay with you in that warm Italian sir that you liked so much; she +should bring you back to life. But I was too late. I know not if it is +my failure that has brought about this sorrow, or if God has taken it +into His own hands. I only know that she was yours living, she is yours +now. I must tell you that in the first moment of that terrible shock of +the loss, there came a wicked, selfish gleam of gladness that I had not +given her up to you. But I have wiped that out with my tears, and I can +tell you without shame that is yours, that I have given her to you." + +"We can both love her now," said Ernest. + +"If she were living, she might have separated us," said Harry; "but +since God has taken her, she makes us one." + +And the brothers read together Violet's letter. + + * * * * * + + +THE NEW ATLANTIC CABLE. + + +When the indefatigable Cyrus told our people, five years ago, that he +was going to lay a telegraph-cable in the bed of the ocean between +America and Europe, and place New York and London in instantaneous +communication, our wide-awake and enterprising fellow-citizens said very +coolly that they should like to see him do it!--a phrase intended to +convey the idea that in their opinion he had promised a great deal more +than he could perform. But Cyrus was as good as his word. The cable was +laid, and worked for the space of three weeks, conveying between the Old +and New World four hundred messages of all sorts, and some of them of +the greatest importance. Four years have elapsed since the fulfilment +of that promise, and now Mr. Field comes again before the public and +announces that a new Atlantic cable is going to be laid down, which +is not only going to work, but is to be a permanent success; and this +promise will likewise be fulfilled. You may shrug your shoulders, my +friend, and look incredulous, but I assure you the grand idea will be +realized, and speedily. I have been heretofore as incredulous as any +one; but having examined the evidence in its favor, I am fully convinced +not only of the feasibility of laying a cable, and of the certainty +of its practical operation when laid, but of its complete +indestructibility. If you will accompany me through the following +pages, my doubting friend, I will convince you of the correctness of my +conclusions. + +When the fact of the successful laying of the old Atlantic cable was +known, there was no class of people in this country more surprised at +the result than the electricians, engineers, and practical telegraphers. +Meeting a friend of mine, an electrician, and who, by the way, is also +a great mathematician, and, like all of his class, inclined to be very +exact in his statements, I exclaimed, in all the warmth and exuberance +of feeling engendered by so great an event,-- + +"Isn't it glorious, this idea of being able to send our lightning across +the ocean, and to talk with London and Paris as readily as we do with +New York and New Orleans?" + +"It is, indeed," responded my friend, with equal enthusiasm; "my hopes +are more than realized by this wonderful achievement." + +"Hopes realized!" exclaimed I. "Why, I didn't consider there was one +chance in a thousand of success,--did you?" + +"Why, yes," replied my exact mathematical friend; "I didn't think the +chances so much against the success of the enterprise as that. From the +deductions which I drew from a very careful examination of all the facts +I could obtain, I concluded that the chances of absolute failure were +about ninety-seven and a half per cent.!" + +For many of the facts contained in this article I am indebted to the +very clear and able address delivered by Mr. Cyrus W. Field before the +American Geographical and Statistical Society, at Clinton Hall, New +York, in May last, upon the prospects of the Atlantic telegraph. + +At the start, of course, every one was very ignorant of the work to be +done in establishing a telegraph across the ocean. Submarine telegraphy +was in its infancy, and aërial telegraphy had scarcely outgrown its +swaddling-clothes. We had to grope our way in the dark. It was only by +repeated experiments and repeated failures that we were able to find out +all the conditions of success. + +The Atlantic telegraph, it is said by some, was a failure. Well, if it +were so, replies Mr. Field, I should say (as is said of many a man, that +he did more by his death than by his life) that even in its failure it +has been of immense benefit to the science of the world, for it has been +the great experimenting cable. No electrician ever had so long a line to +work upon before; and hence the science of submarine telegraphy never +made such rapid progress as after that great experiment. In fact, all +cables that have since been laid, where the managers availed themselves +of the knowledge and experience obtained by the Atlantic cable, have +been perfectly successful. All these triumphs over the sea are greatly +indebted to the bold attempt to cross the Atlantic made four years ago. + +The first Atlantic cable, therefore, has accomplished a great work in +deep-sea telegraphy, a branch of the art but little known before. In one +sense it was a failure. In another it was a brilliant success. Despite +every disadvantage, it was laid across the ocean; it was stretched from +shore to shore; and for three weeks it continued to operate,--a time +long enough to settle forever the scientific question whether it was +possible to communicate between two continents so far apart. This was +the work of the first Atlantic telegraph; and if it lies silent at the +bottom of the ocean till the destruction of the globe, it has done +enough for the science of the world and the benefit of mankind to +entitle it to be held in honored and blessed memory. + +Now, as to the prospect of success in another attempt to lay a telegraph +across the ocean. The most erroneous opinions prevail as to the +difficulties of laying submarine telegraphs in general, and securing +them against injury. It is commonly supposed that the number of failures +is much greater than of successes; whereas the fact is, that the later +attempts, where made with proper care, have been almost uniformly +successful. In proof of this I will refer to the printed "List of all +the Submarine Telegraph-Cables manufactured and laid down by Messrs. +Glass, Elliot, & Co., of London," from which it appears that within the +space of eight years, from 1854 to 1862, they have manufactured and laid +down twenty-five different cables, among which are included three of +the longest lines connecting England with the Continent,--namely, from +England to Holland, 140 miles, to Hanover, 280 miles, and to Denmark, +368 miles,--and the principal lines in the Mediterranean,--as from Italy +to Corsica and thence to Toulon, from Malta to Sicily, and from Corfu to +Otranto, and besides these, the two chief of all, that from France to +Algiers, 520 miles, laid in 1860, and the other, laid only last year, +from Malta to Alexandria, 1,535 miles! All together the lines laid by +these manufacturers comprise a total of 3,739 miles; and though some +have been lying at the bottom of the sea and working for eight years, +each one of them is at this hour in as perfect condition as on the day +it was laid down, with the exception of the two short lines laid in +shallow water along the shore between Liverpool and Holyhead, 25 miles, +and from Prince Edward's Island to New Brunswick, 11 miles; the latter +of which was broken by a ship's anchor, and the former by the anchor +of the Royal Charter during the gale in which she was wrecked, both of +which can be easily repaired. + +Where failures have occurred in submarine telegraphs, the causes are now +well understood and easily to be avoided. Thus with the first Atlantic +cable, its defects have all been carefully investigated by scientific +men, and may be easily guarded against. When this cable was in process +of manufacture in the factory of Messrs. Glass, Elliot, & Co., in +Greenwich, near London, it was coiled in four large vats, and there +left exposed, day after day, to the heat of a summer sun, which was +intensified by the tarred coating of the cable to one hundred and twenty +degrees. This went on, day after day, with the knowledge of the engineer +and electrician of the company, although the directors had given +explicit orders that sheds should be erected over the vats to prevent +the possibility of such an occurrence. As might have been foreseen, the +gutta-percha was melted, so that the conductor which it was desired to +insulate was so twisted by the coils that it was left quite bare in +numberless places, thus weakening, and eventually, when the cable +was submerged, destroying the insulation. The injury was partially +discovered before the cable was taken out of the factory at Greenwich, +and a length of about thirty miles was cut out and condemned. This, +however, did not wholly remedy the difficulty, for the defective +insulation became frequently and painfully apparent while the cable was +being submerged. Still further evidence of its imperfect condition was +afforded when it came to be cut up for charms and trinkets. + +The first cable was, to a great extent, an experiment,--a leap in +the dark. Its material and construction were as good as the state of +knowledge at that time provided, and in many respects not unsuitable; +but the company could not avail itself, at that time, of the instruments +or apparatus for testing its conducting power and insulation, in the +manner since pointed out by experience. The effects of temperature, +as we have seen, were not provided for. The vast differences in the +conducting power of copper were discovered only by means of that cable, +when made. The mathematical law whereby the proportions of insulation to +conduction are determined had not been fully investigated; and it was +even argued by some of the pretended electricians in the employ of the +company, that, the smaller the conductor, the more rapidly the current +could pass through it. No mode of protecting the external sheath from +oxidation had then been discovered; and the kind of machinery necessary +for submerging cables in deep water could only be theoretically assumed. + +Looking back to that period, and granting that there was too much haste +in the preparations, and that other mistakes were committed which could +now be foreseen and avoided, it is not too much to say, that, if that +cable could be laid and worked, as was done, after one failure in 1857, +and the consequent uncoiling and storage of it in an exposed situation, +and after three attempts in 1858, under the most fearful circumstances +as to weather, it would be an easy task to lay a cable constructed and +submerged by the light of present experience. + +[Illustration: The Cable laid in 1858.] + +[Illustration: The proposed New Cable.] + +The above cuts, representing sections of the cable laid in 1858 and the +proposed new cable, will serve to show the difference between the two, +and the immense superiority of the latter over the former. In the old +Atlantic cable the copper conducting-wire weighed but ninety-three +pounds to the mile, while in the new cable it weighs five hundred and +ten pounds to the mile, _or more than five times as much_. Now the size, +or diameter, of a telegraphic conductor is just as important an item, in +determining the strength of current which can be maintained upon it with +a given amount of battery-force, as the length of the conductor. To +produce the effects by which the messages are expressed at the end of +a telegraphic wire or cable, it is necessary that the electric current +should have a certain intensity or strength. Now the intensity of the +current transmitted by a given voltaic battery along a given line of +wire will decrease, other things being the same, in the same proportion +as the length of the wire increases. Thus, if the wire be continued for +ten miles, the current will have twice the intensity which it would +have, if the wire had been extended to a distance of twenty miles. It is +evident, therefore, that the wire may be continued to such a length that +the current will no longer have sufficient intensity to produce at the +station to which the despatch is transmitted those effects by which the +language of the despatch is signified. _But the intensity of the current +transmitted by a given voltaic battery upon a wire of given length will +be increased in the same proportion as the area of the section of the +wire is augmented_. Thus, if the diameter of the wire be doubled, the +area of its section being increased in a fourfold proportion, the +intensity of the current transmitted along the wire will be increased in +the same ratio. The intensity of the current may also be augmented by +increasing the number of pairs of the generating plates or cylinders +composing the galvanic battery. + +All electrical terms are arbitrary, and necessarily unintelligible +to the general reader. I shall, therefore, use them as sparingly as +possible, and endeavor to make myself clearly understood by explaining +those which I do use. + +All telegraphic conductors offer a certain resistance to the passage of +an electric current, and the amount of this resistance is proportional +to the length of the conductor, and inversely to its size. In order to +overcome this resistance, it is necessary to increase the number of +the cells in the battery, and thus obtain a fluid of greater force or +intensity. + +On aërial telegraph-lines this increase in the intensity of the battery +occasions no particular inconvenience, other than by tending to the more +rapid destruction of the small copper coils, or helices, employed; +but upon submarine lines it has the effect of increasing the static +electricity, or electricity of tension, which accumulates along the +surface of the gutta-percha covering of the conducting-wire, in the same +manner as static electricity accumulates on the surface of glass, or of +a stick of sealing-wax, by rubbing it with a piece of cloth. The use of +submarine or of subterranean conductors occasions, from the above cause, +a small retardation in the velocity of the transmitted electricity. This +retardation is not due to the length of the path which the electric +current has to traverse, since it does not take place with a conductor, +equally long, insulated in the air; but it arises from a static +reaction, caused by the passage of an intense current through a +conductor well insulated, but surrounded outside its insulating coating +by a conducting body, such as sea-water or moist ground, or even by the +metallic envelope of iron wires placed in communication with the ground. +When this conductor is presented to one of the poles of a battery, the +other pole of which communicates with the ground, it becomes charged +with static electricity, like the coating of a Leyden-jar,--electricity +which is capable of giving rise to a discharge-current, even after the +voltaic current has ceased to be transmitted. Volta showed in one of his +beautiful experiments, that, in putting one of the ends of his pile +in communication with the earth, and the other with a non-insulated +Leyden-jar, the jar was charged in an instant of time to a degree +proportional to the force of the pile. At the same time an instantaneous +current was observed in the conductor between the pile and the jar, +which had all the properties of an ordinary current. Now it is evident +that the subaqueous wire with its insulating covering may be assimilated +exactly to an immense Leyden-jar. The glass of the jar represents the +gutta-percha; the internal coating is the surface of the copper wire; +the external coating is the surrounding metallic envelope and water. To +form an idea of the capacity of this new kind of battery, we have only +to remember that the surface of the wire is equal to fourteen square +yards per mile. Bringing such a wire into communication by one of its +ends with a battery, of which the opposite pole is in contact with the +earth, whilst the other extremity of the wire is insulated, must cause +the wire to take a charge of the same character and tension as that of +the pole of the battery touched by it. + +These currents of static induction are proportional in intensity to +the force of the battery and the length of the wire, whilst an inverse +relation is true as regards the length of the conductor with the +ordinary voltaic current. + +Professor Wheatstone proved, by actual experiment, that a continuous +current may be maintained in the circuit of the long wire of an +electric cable, of which one of the ends is insulated, whilst the other +communicates with one of the poles of a battery, whose other pole is +connected with the ground. This current he considers due to the uniform +and continual dispersion of the statical electricity with which the wire +is charged along its whole length. + +It was mainly owing to the retardation from this cause that +communication through the Atlantic cable was so exceedingly slow and +difficult. + +I will now endeavor to show why the new cable will not be liable to this +difficulty, to anything like the same extent. + +I have alluded to the resistance offered by the conductor of a +telegraph-cable to the passage of an electric current, and to the +retardation of this current by static induction. The terms _retardation_ +and _resistance_ are not considered technically synonymous, but are +intended, as electrical terms, to designate two very different forces. +The resistance of a wire, as we have seen above, is proportional to its +length, and inversely to its diameter. It is overcome by increasing the +number of cells in the battery, or, in other words, by increasing the +intensity or force of the current. The retardation in a telegraphic +cable, on the contrary, is proportional to the length of the +conducting-wire and the intensity of the battery. In the former case, by +increasing the electrical force you overcome the resistance; while +in the latter, by augmenting the electrical force you increase the +retardation. + +From the foregoing law it will be seen that there are two ways of +lessening the resistance upon telegraphic conductors,--one by reducing +the length, and the other by increasing the area of the section of the +conducting-wire. Now, as already remarked, the copper conducting-wire in +the old cable weighed but ninety-three pounds to the mile, while in the +new cable it weighs five hundred and ten pounds to the mile, or more +than five times as much. If, then, by comparison, we estimate the +resistance in the old Atlantic cable to have been equal to two +thousand miles of ordinary telegraph-wire, the increased size of the +conducting-wire of the new cable reduces the resistance to one-fifth +that distance, or four hundred miles. And while it required two hundred +cells of battery to produce intensity sufficient to work over the two +thousand miles of resistance in the old cable, it will require but +one-fifth as much, or forty cells, to overcome the four hundred miles +of resistance in the new cable. The retardation which resulted from +the intense current generated by two hundred cells will be also +proportionately reduced in the comparatively small battery of forty +cells. Thus we perceive, that, while the length of the cable is, +electrically and practically, reduced to one-fifth of its former length, +the retardation of the current is also decreased in the same proportion. +Therefore, if, with the old cable, three words per minute could be +transmitted, with the new cable we shall be able to transmit five times +as many, or fifteen words per minute. This is not equal to our Morse +system on the land-lines, which will signal at the rate of thirty-five +words per minute, still less to the printing system, which can signal at +the rate of fifty words per minute; but, even at this rate, the +cable would be enabled to transmit in twenty-four hours one thousand +despatches containing an average of twenty words apiece. Mr. Field, +however, claims for the cable a speed of only twelve words per minute, +which would reduce the number of despatches of twenty words each +that could be transmitted in twenty-four hours to eight hundred and +sixty-four. We will suppose, however, that the cable transmits only five +hundred telegrams per day; this number, at ten dollars per message, +would give an income of five thousand dollars per diem, or one million +five hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars per annum. Quite a handsome +revenue on an outlay of about one million of dollars! + +The only instrument which could be used successfully in signalling +through the old cable was one of peculiar construction, called the +Marine Galvanometer. In this instrument, momentum and inertia are almost +wholly avoided by the use of a needle weighing only one and a half +grains, combined with a mirror reflecting a ray of light, which +indicates deflections with great accuracy. By this means a gradually +increasing or decreasing current is at each instant indicated at its +due strength. Thus, when this galvanometer is placed as the +receiving-instrument at the end of a long submarine cable, the movement +of the spot of light, consequent on the completion of a circuit through +the battery, cable, and earth, can be so observed as to furnish a curve +representing very accurately the arrival of an electric current. Lines +representing successive signals at various speeds can also be obtained, +and, by means of a metronome, dots and dashes can be sent with nearly +perfect regularity by an ordinary Morse key, and the corresponding +changes in the current at the receiving end of the cable accurately +observed. + +A system of arbitrary characters, similar to those used upon the Morse +telegraph, was employed, and the letter to be indicated was determined +by the number of oscillations of the needle, as well as by the length of +time during which the needle remained in one place. The operator, who +watched the reflection of the deflected needle in the mirror, held a key +in his hand communicating with a local instrument in the office, which +he pressed down or raised, according to the deflection of the needle; +and another operator deciphered the characters thus produced upon the +paper. This mode of telegraphing was, of necessity, very slow, and it +will not surprise the reader that the fastest rate of speed over the +cable did not exceed three words per minute. Still, had the old cable +continued in operation a few months longer, experience and practice +would have enabled the operator to transmit and receive with very much +greater facility. On our land-lines, operators of long experience +acquire a dexterity which enables them not only to transmit and receive +telegrams with wonderful rapidity, but to work the instruments during +storms, when those of less experience would be unable to receive a dot. +There is no occupation in which skill and experience are more necessary +to success than in that of telegraphing, and at the time the Atlantic +cable was laid no experience had been obtained upon similar lines, or +with the instruments employed. Now, however, the company can avail +itself of experienced operators from lines of nearly equal length, and +who will require no time for experimenting, but may commence operations +as soon as the two ends of the cable are landed upon the shores of +Europe and America. + +In the old cable the copper wire was covered but three times with +gutta-percha, while in the new it is covered four times with the purest +gutta-percha and four times with Chatterton's patent compound, by which +the cable is rendered absolutely impenetrable to water. The old cable +was covered with eighteen strands of small iron wire, which, as they had +no other covering, were directly exposed to the action of the water. The +new is covered with thirteen strands, each strand consisting of three +wires of the best quality, and covered with gutta-percha, to render it +indestructible in salt water. By this new construction, it has double +the strength of the old cable, at the same time that it is lighter in +the water, a very important matter in laying it across the ocean. + +The risk of loss in laying the new cable would be very much diminished +by the fact that it would be of such strength, that, even if broken, it +could be recovered, as has been done in the Mediterranean; and besides, +the principal and most expensive materials, copper and gutta-percha, +being indestructible, would have at all times a market value. + +Other routes to Europe have been proposed, and have been at times quite +popular, the most feasible of which are those _viâ_ Behring's Straits, +or the Aleutian Islands, and _viâ_ Labrador, Greenland, Iceland, and the +Faroe Isles. + +To the route _viâ_ Behring's Straits there are several grave objections. +The distance from New York to London by a route crossing the three +continents of America, Asia, and Europe, is about eighteen thousand +miles, or more than nine times as great as that from Newfoundland to +Ireland. Of course, the mere cost of constructing a continuous telegraph +three-quarters of the distance around the globe, and of maintaining +the hundreds of stations that would be necessary over such a length +of land-lines, would be enormous. But even that is not the chief +difficulty. A line which should traverse the whole breadth of Siberia +would encounter wellnigh insuperable obstacles in the country itself, as +it would have to pass over mountains and across deserts; while, as it +turned north to Kamtschatka, it would come into a region of frightful +cold, where winter reigns the greater part of the year. Of this whole +country a large part is not only utterly uncivilized, but uninhabited, +and portions which are occupied are held by savage and warlike tribes. + +Of the Greenland route, Doctor Hayes, the well-known Arctic traveller, +expresses himself in the most decided manner, that it is wholly +impracticable. He says it must be obvious that the ice which hugs +the Greenland coast will prevent a cable, if laid, from remaining in +continuity for any length of time. Doctor Wallich, naturalist attached +to Sir Leopold McClintock's expedition to survey the Northern route, +considers it impracticable on account of the volcanic nature of the +bottom of the sea near Iceland, and the ridges of rock and the immense +icebergs near Greenland. + +The main argument in favor of this route, in preference to the more +direct one across the Atlantic, is, that it would be impossible to work +in one continuous circuit a line so long as that from Newfoundland to +Ireland. This would seem to be answered sufficiently by the success of +the old Atlantic cable. But it is alleged that it worked slowly and with +difficulty, which is true, and hence it is thought that the distance +would be at least a very great obstacle. But we have shown, that, +practically, by the increased size of the conducting-wire, the new cable +has been reduced in length four-fifths, and will work five times as fast +as the old one. The cable extending from Malta to Alexandria is fifteen +hundred and thirty-five miles long, and the whole of this line can be +worked through without relay or repetition in a satisfactory manner, as +regards both its scientific and commercial results, and with remarkably +low battery-power. The Gutta-Percha Company, which made the core of this +cable, says that a suitably made and insulated telegraph-conductor, laid +intact between Ireland and Newfoundland, can be worked efficiently, both +in a commercial and scientific sense, and they are prepared to guaranty +the efficient and satisfactory working of a line of the length of +the Atlantic cable as manufactured by themselves, and submerged and +maintained in that state. + +It can be shown by the testimony and experience of those most eminent in +the science and practice of oceanic telegraphy, that neither length of +distance, within the limits with which the Atlantic Company has to +deal, nor depth of water, is any insuperable impediment to efficient +communication by such improved conductors of electricity as are now +proposed to be laid down. All those who are best able to form a sound +opinion, from long-continued experimental researches on this particular +point, are willing to pledge their judgment, that, on such a length of +line as that between Ireland and Newfoundland, and with such a cable and +such improved instruments as are now at command, not less than twelve +words per minute could be transmitted from shore to shore, and that this +may be done with greatly diminished battery-power as compared with that +formerly used. + +I think I have shown by facts, and not theory merely, that the Atlantic +cable can and will be successfully laid down and worked, thus supplying +the long-needed link between the three hundred thousand miles of +electric telegraph already in operation on the opposite shores of the +Atlantic. + +There are many of our people who are inclined to look coldly upon this +enterprise, from a conviction that it would give Great Britain an undue +advantage over us in case war should occur between the two countries, +and I confess to having entertained the same views; but the case is so +well put by Mr. Field, in his address before the American Geographical +Society, as, in my judgment, to relieve every apprehension upon this +point. + +The relative geographical position of the two countries cannot be +changed. It so happens, that the two points on the opposite sides of +the Atlantic nearest to each other, and which are therefore the natural +termini of an ocean telegraph, are both in British territory. Of +course, the Government which holds both ends can control the use of the +telegraph, or stop it altogether. It has the power, and the only check +upon the abuse of that power must be by a treaty, made beforehand. Shall +we refuse to aid in constructing the line, for fear that England, in +the exasperation of a war, would disregard any treaty stipulations in +reference to its use? Then we throw away our only security. For, suppose +a war to break out to-morrow, the first step of England would be to lay +a cable herself, for her own sole and exclusive benefit. Then she +would not only have the control, but would be unrestrained by any +treaty-obligations binding her to respect the neutrality of the +telegraph. We should then find this great medium of communication +between the two hemispheres, which we might have made, if not an ally, +at least a neutral, turned into a powerful antagonist. + +Would it not, therefore, be better that such a line of telegraph should +be constructed by the joint efforts of both countries, and be guarded +by treaty-stipulations, so that it might be placed, as far as possible, +under the protection of the faith of nations, and of the honor of the +civilized world? + +Mr. Field says, that, in the negotiations on this subject, Great Britain +has never shown the slightest wish to take advantage of its geographical +position to exact special privileges, or a desire to appropriate any +advantages which it was not willing to concede equally to the United +States. + +Should not the Atlantic telegraph, if laid down under the conditions +proposed by the Company, instead of being a cause of apprehension, in +case of war, be rather looked upon with favor, as tending to lessen +the risk of war between the United States and all European countries, +affording, as it would, facilities for the prompt interchange of notes +between the Government of the United States and those of the various +nations on the other side of the Atlantic, whenever any misunderstanding +should unhappily arise? + +Let us, then, throw aside all feeling of apprehension from this cause, +and be prepared to hail, with the same enthusiasm we experienced in 1858 +at the laying of the old, the completion of the new Atlantic cable. + + * * * * * + + +THE CABALISTIC WORDS. + + +[Since the following poem was written, we have had from the President +the pledge that the "cabalistic words" shall be uttered by him on the +first of January, 1863, unless the rebellion is abandoned before that +time. Thanks and honor to the President for the promise! But we shall +not look for the magical operation of the words till they are uttered +without reservation or qualification.] + + Hear, O Commander of the Faithful, hear + A legend trite to many a childish ear; + But scorn it not, nor let its teaching fail, + Although familiar as a nursery tale. + + Cassim the Covetous, whose god was gold, + Once, by strange chance, found riches manifold + Hid in a rocky cavern, where a band + Of robbers who were ravaging the land + Kept their bright spoils. Cassim had learnt the spell + By which the dazzling heaps were guarded well. + Two cabalistic words he speaks, and, lo! + The door flies open: what a golden glow! + He enters,--speaks the words of power once more, + And swift upon him clangs the ponderous door. + Croesus! what joy to eyes that know their worth! + Huge bags of gold and diamonds on the earth! + Here piles of ingots, there a glistening heap + Of coins that all their minted lustre keep. + Cassim is ravished at the wondrous sight, + And rubs his hands with ever new delight; + Absorbed in gazing, lets the hours go by, + Nor can enough indulge his gloating eye. + He chooses what he can to bear away, + And then reluctant seeks the outer day. + + The words,--what _are_ they,--those that ope the door? + He falters,--loses all so plain before;-- + Tries this word,--that,--in vain!--he cannot speak + The magic sentence;--he grows faint and weak,-- + Spurns the base gold, cause of his wild despair;-- + What if the thieves should come and find him there?-- + Hark! they are coming!--yes, they come!--they shout + The precious words;--ah, now they end his doubt!-- + Too late he hears; in vain he tries to fly; + Trembling he sinks upon his knees--to die! + + Commander of the Faithful! dark the strait + Thy people stand in, in this hour of fate; + Thick walls of gloom and doubt have shut them in; + They grope beneath the ban of one great sin. + Yet there are two short words whose potent spell + Shall burst with thunder-crash these gates of hell, + Open a vista to celestial light, + Lead us to peace through the eternal Right. + Oh, speak those words, those saving words of power, + In this most pregnant, this supremest hour,-- + Words writ in martyr blood, as all may see!-- + Commander of the Faithful, say, BE FREE! + + * * * * * + + +CONVERSATIONAL OPINIONS OF THE LEADERS OF SECESSION. + +A MONOGRAPH. + + +The causes of the present Rebellion, the personal history of its +leaders, and the incidents immediately preceding the breaking out of the +conspiracy, will ever remain objects of chief interest to the historian +of the present period of the Republic. Influenced by a desire to obtain +unimpeachable information upon these topics from unprejudiced sources, +the writer of the following article, then a student at Yale College, +availed himself of the vacation in December, 1860, and January, 1861, to +visit the National capital, and while there to improve the reasonably +ready access with which most public men are approached, whenever the +object is either to give or to receive information, for the purpose of +studying a period then promising to exceed in importance anything in the +past history of the nation. It has been suggested to the writer, that +certain interviews, such as younger men, when collegians, were then +allowed with the frank Southern leaders, and which he has occasionally +sketched in conversation, have had the seal of privacy removed by the +tide of events, and should now be described for the public, as aiding to +unmask, from unquestionable authority, the real causes and origin of +the Rebellion, and contributing something, perhaps, to sustain public +sentiment in the defence of the nation against a conspiracy which the +statements of these Southern apologists themselves prove to have been +conceived in the most reckless disregard of honor and law, and which, if +successful, will give birth to a neighboring nation actuated by the same +spirit. + +The more important interviews alluded to were with the Honorable Robert +Toombs, the Honorable R.M.T. Hunter, and the Honorable Jefferson Davis, +at that time prominent members, as is well known, of the United +States Senate, from the States respectively of Georgia, Virginia, and +Mississippi. The communications of the Senators are proved to have been +sincere by their subsequent speeches and by public events. The writer +is by no means insensible to the breach of privilege, of which, under +ordinary circumstances, notwithstanding the unfolding of events, he +would be guilty, in detailing in print private conversations; but he +believes that the public will sustain the propriety of the present +revelations, now that the persons chiefly concerned have become enemies +of the nation and of mankind. + +Not, as he may possibly be accused, with the purpose of adding a +syllable of unnecessary length to the narrative, but for the sake of +vividness in presenting the idea of the _personnel_ of the Southern +leaders, soon to be known only as historical characters, and of +scrupulous accuracy in representing their sentiments, to which, in this +case, a notice of time, place, and manner seems as necessary as that of +matter, the writer has taken not a little pains, through all the usual +means, to remember, and will endeavor to state, the conversations, +always with logical, and nearly always, he believes, with verbal +accuracy, in order that the conclusions to be drawn from them by the +reader may have the better support. + +It is well known that public men in Washington, out of business hours, +are visited without formal introduction or letters, especially upon +their reception-days, and that the privilege of a single interview +implies no distinction to the visitor. The urbanity and frankness with +which proper approaches are met, especially by the Southern leaders, are +also well known. Young men, with unprejudiced minds, upon whom public +characters are always anxious to impress the stamp of their own +principles, are perhaps received with quite as much frankness as others. + + * * * * * + +The first interview sought was with Mr. Toombs, the most daring and +ingenuous, and perhaps the most gifted in eloquence of the Southern +leaders, whose house, at that time, was a lofty building upon F Street, +only two doors from the residence of Mr. Seward. A negro servant, who, +with all the blackness of a native African, yet with thin lips and +almost the regular features of a Caucasian, appeared to the writer to be +possibly the descendant of one of the superior, princely African tribes, +showed the way to an unoccupied parlor. The room was luxuriously +furnished with evidences of wealth and taste: a magnificent pianoforte, +several well-chosen paintings, and a marble bust of some public +character standing upon a high pedestal of the same material in the +corner, attracting particular attention, and a pleasant fire in the open +grate making the December evening social. A step presently heard in the +hall, elastic, buoyant, and vigorous, was altogether too characteristic +of Mr. Toombs's portly, muscular, confident, and somewhat dashing +figure, to be mistaken for any other than his own. Mr. Toombs appeared +to be now about forty-five years of age, but carried in his whole mien +the elastic vigor, and irresistible self-reliance, frankness, decision, +and sociality of character, which mark his oratory and his public +career. His good-evening, and inquiry concerning the college named on +the card of the writer, were in a tone that at once placed his visitor +at ease. + +"Your first visit to Washington, Mr. ----?" + +"Yes, Sir. Like others, I have been attracted by the political crisis, +and the purpose of studying it from unprejudiced sources." + +"Crisis? Oh, _that's past_." + +The writer will not soon forget the tone of perfect confidence and +_nonchalance_ with which this was uttered. The time was the last week of +December, 1860. + +"You are confident, then, Sir, that fifteen States will secede?" + +"Secede? Certainly,--they _must_ secede. You Northerners,--you are from +a Northern college, I believe,"--referring to the writer's card,--"you +Northerners wish to make a new Constitution, or rather to give such an +interpretation to the old one as to make it virtually a new document. +How can society be kept together, if men will not keep their compacts? +Our fathers provided, in adopting their Constitution, for the protection +of their property. But here are four billions of the property of the +South which you propose to outlaw from the common Territories. You say +to us, by your elected President, by your House of Representatives, by +your Senate, by your Supreme Court, in short, by every means through +which one party can speak to another, that these four billions of +property, representing the toil of the head and hand of the South for +the last two hundred years, shall not be respected in the Territories as +your property is respected there. And this property, too, is property +which you tax and which you allow to be represented; but yet you will +not protect it. How can we remain? We should be happy to remain, if you +would treat us as equals; but you tax us, and will not protect us. +We will resist. D--n it,"--this and other striking expressions are +precisely Mr. Toombs's language,--"we will meet you on the border with +the bayonet. Society cannot be kept together, unless men will keep their +compacts." + +This was said without the intonation of fierceness or malignity, but +with great decision and the vigor of high spirit. + +It was taking, of course, with considerable emphasis, a side in a +famous Constitutional question, familiar to all readers of American +Congressional Debates, once supported by Mr. Calhoun, and rather +strangely, too, with that philosophical leader, confusing the absurdly +asserted State right of seceding at will with the undoubted right, +when there exists no peaceful remedy, of seceding from intolerable +oppression: an entire position which Mr. Webster especially, and +subsequent statesmen, in arguments elucidating the nature and powers of +the General Government, to say nothing of the respect due to a moral +sentiment concerning slavery, which, permeating more than a majority +of the people, has the force, when properly expressed, wherever the +Constitution has jurisdiction, of supreme law, are thought by most men, +once and forever, to have satisfactorily answered. It was a complaint, +certainly, which the South had had ever since the Constitution was +formed, and which could with no plausibility be brought forward as a +justification of war, while there existed a Constitutional tribunal for +adjusting difficulties of Constitutional interpretation. Yet, as it +was almost universally asserted, of course, by the Northern partisan +presses, and by Northern Congressmen, that the Rebellion was utterly +causeless, and as the writer was therefore exceedingly anxious to +obtain, concerning their grievances, the latest opinions of the Southern +leaders, as stated by themselves, he ventured to propose, in a pause of +Mr. Toombs's somewhat rapid rhetoric, a question which, at that moment, +seemed of central importance to the candid philosophical inquirer into +the moving forces of the times:-- + +"Are we, then, Sir, to consider Mr. Calhoun's old complaint--the +non-recognition of slave-property under the Federal Constitution--as +constituting now the _chief grievance_ of the South?" + +"Undoubtedly," was Mr. Toombs's instant reply, "_it all turns on that. +What you tax you must protect_." + +This is the very strongest argument of the Southern side. But the +alleged slave-property is protected, though only under municipal law, by +the Constitution. To protect it elsewhere is against its whole spirit, +and, in the present state of public sentiment, against its very letter. +Originally, as is well known, it was not proposed to protect at all, +_under the General Government_, property so monstrous, except as it +became necessary as a compromise, in order to secure a union. But the +provision of the Constitution that the slave-trade should be abolished, +the absolute power given to Congress to make all laws for the +Territories, the spirit of the preamble, the principles of the +Declaration, indeed, the whole history of the origin and adoption of the +fundamental law, prove that its principle and its expectation were, if +not absolutely to place slavery in the States in process of extinction, +at least never to recognize it except indirectly and remotely +under municipal law, not even by admitting the word _slave_ to its +phraseology. + +"Even in the Northern States themselves, to say nothing of the +Territories, I am not safe with my property. I can travel through +France or England and be safe; but if I happen to lose my servant up in +_Vairmount_,"--Mr. Toombs pronounced the word with a somewhat marked +accent of derision,--"and undertake to recover him, I get jugged. +Besides, your Northern statesmen are far from being honest. Here is +Billy Seward, for instance,"--with a gesture toward his neighbor's +house,--"who says slavery is contrary to the Higher Law, and that he is +bound as a Christian to obey the Higher Law; but yet he takes an oath to +uphold the Constitution, which protects slavery. This inconsistency runs +through most of the Northern platforms. How can we live with such +men? They will not be true even to a compact which they themselves +acknowledge." + +"You would think, then, Wendell Phillips, for instance, more consistent +in his political opinions than Mr. Seward?" + +"Certainly. I can understand his position. 'Slavery,' he says, 'is +wrong. The Constitution protects slavery; therefore I will have nothing +to do with the Constitution, and cannot become a citizen.' This is +logical and consistent. I can respect such a position as that." + +Here Mr. Toombs--ejecting, as perhaps the writer ought not to relate, a +competent mass of tobacco-saliva into the blazing coal--paused somewhat +reflectively, perhaps unpleasantly revolving certain possible indirect +influences of the position he had characterized. + +"Upon which side, Sir, do you think there is usually the most +misunderstanding,--on the part of the North concerning the South? or on +the part of the South concerning the North?" + +"Oh, by all odds," he replied, instantly, "we understand you best. We +send fifty thousand travellers, more or less, North every summer to +your watering-places. Hot down in Mobile,"--his style taking somewhat +unpleasantly the intonation as well as the negligence of the +bar-room,--"can't live in Mobile in the summer. Then your papers +circulate more among us than ours among you. Our daughters are educated +at Northern boarding-schools, our sons at Northern colleges: both my +colleague and myself were educated at Northern colleges. For these +reasons, by all odds, we have a better opportunity for understanding you +than you have for understanding us." + +"In case of general secession and war," the writer ventured next to +inquire, "would there probably, in your opinion, be danger of a slave +insurrection?" + +"None at all. Certainly far less than of 'Bread or Blood' riots at the +North." + +The writer was surprised to find, notwithstanding Mr. Toombs's eulogy of +Southern opportunities, his understanding of the North so imperfect, and +still more surprised at the political and social principles involved in +the spirit of what followed. + +"Your poor population can hold ward-meetings, and can vote. But _we_ +know better how to take care of ours. They are in the fields, and +under the eye of their overseers. There can be little danger of an +insurrection under our system." + +The subject and the manner of the man, in spite of his better qualities, +were becoming painful, and the writer ventured only one more remark. + +"An ugly time, certainly, if war comes between North and South." + +"Ugly time? _Oh, no!_" + +The writer will never forget the tone of utter carelessness and +_nonchalance_ with which the last round-toned exclamation was uttered. + +"Oh, no! War is nothing. Never more than a tenth part of the adult +population of a country in the field. We have four million voters. Say +a tenth of them, or four hundred thousand men, are in the field on both +sides. A tenth of them would be killed or die of camp diseases. But +_they_ would die, _any way_. War is nothing." + +The tone perfectly proved this belief, not badinage. + +"Some property would be destroyed, towns injured, fences overturned, and +the Devil raised generally; but then all that would have a good effect. +Only yaller-covered-literature men and editors make a noise about war. +Wars are to history what storms are to the atmosphere,--purifiers. We +shall meet, as we ought, whoever invades our rights, with the bayonet. +We are the gentlemen of this land, and gentlemen always make revolutions +in history." + +This was said in the tone of an injured, but haughty man, with perfect +intellectual poise and earnestness, yet with a fervor of feeling that +brought the speaker erect in his chair. + +The significance of the last remarks, which the writer can make oath he +has preserved _verbatim_, being somewhat calculated to draw on a debate, +of course wholly unfitted to the time and place, the writer, apologizing +for having taken so much time at a formal interview, and receiving, of +course, a most courteous invitation to renew the call, found himself, +after but twenty minutes' conversation, on the street, in the lonely +December evening, with a mind full of reflections. + +The utter recklessness concerning life and property with which the +splendid intellect, under the lead of the ungovernable passions of this +man, was plunging the nation into a civil war of which no one could +foresee the end, was the thought uppermost. Certainly, the abstract +manliness of asserting rights supposed to be infringed it was in itself +impossible not to respect. But the man seemed to love war for its own +sake, as pugnacious schoolboys love sham-fights, with a sort of glee in +the smell of the smoke of battle. The judicial calmness of statesmanship +had entirely disappeared in the violence of sectional passion. Perhaps +he might be capable of ruining his country from pure love of turbulence +and power, could he but find a pretext of force sufficient to blind +first himself and then others. Yet Robert Toombs, in the Senate Chamber, +takes little children in his arms, and is one of the kindest of the +noblemen of Nature in the sphere of his unpolitical sympathies. The +reader who is familiar with Mr. Toombs's speeches will need no assurance +that he spoke frankly.[A] + +[Footnote A: Ten days later, in the Senate, with a face full of the +combined erubescence of revolutionary enthusiasm and unstatesmanlike +anger, Mr. Toombs closed a speech to the Northern Senators in the +following amazing words, (_Congressional Globe_, 1860-61, p. 271,) +which justify, it will be seen, every syllable of the report of the +conversation upon the same points:-- + +"You will not regard confederate obligations; you will not regard +constitutional obligations; you will not regard your oaths. What am I to +do? Am I a freeman? Is my State, a free State, to lie down and submit +because political fossils raise the cry of 'The Glorious Union'? Too +long already have we listened to this delusive song. We are freemen. We +have rights: I have stated them. We have wrongs: I have recounted them. +I have demonstrated that the party now coming into power has declared +us outlaws, and is determined to exclude four thousand millions of our +property from the common territories,--that it has declared us under the +ban of the empire and out of the protection of the laws of the United +States, everywhere. They have refused to protect us from invasion and +insurrection by the Federal power, and the Constitution denies to us +in the Union the right either to raise fleets or armies for our own +defence. All these charges I have proven by the record, and I put +them before the civilized world, and demand the judgment of to-day, of +to-morrow, of distant ages, and of Heaven itself, upon these causes. I +am content, whatever it be, to peril all in so noble, so holy a cause. +We have appealed time and time again for these constitutional rights. +You have refused them. We appeal again. Restore us these rights as we +had them, as your court adjudges them to be, just as all our people have +said they are, redress these flagrant wrongs, seen of all men, and it +will restore fraternity and peace and unity to all of us. Refuse them, +and what then? We shall then ask you to 'let us depart in peace.' Refuse +that, and you present us war. We accept it; and inscribing upon our +banners the glorious words, 'Liberty and Equality,' we will trust to +the blood of the brave and the God of battles for security and +tranquillity." + +Sincere, but undoubtedly mistaken, Mr. Toombs! To this philippic, let +the words of another Southern, but not sectional Senator, reply, and +that from a golden age:-- + +"But if, unhappily, we should be involved in war, in civil war, between +the two parts of this Confederacy, in which the effort upon the one +side should be to restrain the introduction of slavery into the new +territories, and upon the other side to force its introduction there, +what a spectacle should we present to the astonishment of mankind, in an +effort, not to propagate right, but--I must say it, though I trust it +will be understood to be said with no design to excite feeling--a war to +propagate wrong in the territories thus acquired from Mexico. It would +be a war in which we should have no sympathies, no good wishes, in which +all mankind would be against us; for, from the commencement of the +Revolution down to the present time, we have constantly reproached +our British ancestors for the introduction of slavery into this +country."--HENRY CLAY, _Congressional Globe_, Part II., Vol. 22, p. +117.] + +Sick at heart, as the future of the nation stood to his dim vision +through the present, the writer found his way to his hotel. At this +time the North was silent, apparently apathetic, unbelieving, almost +criminally allowed to be undeceived by its presses and by public men who +had means of information, while this volcano continued to prepare itself +thus defiantly beneath the very feet of a President sworn to support the +laws! + + * * * * * + +The formal interview with the Honorable R.M.T. Hunter was sought in +company with two other students of New-England colleges. We had hoped to +meet Mr. Mason at the same apartments, but were disappointed. The great +contrast of personal character between Mr. Hunter and Mr. Toombs made +the concurrence of the former in the chief views presented by the +latter the more significant. The careful habits of thought, the +unostentatiousness, and the practical common sense for which the +Virginian farmer is esteemed, and which had made his name a prominent +one for President of a Central Confederacy, in case of the separate +secession of the Border States, were curiously manifested both in +his apartments and his manner. The chamber was apparently at a +boarding-house, but very plainly furnished with red cotton serge +curtains and common hair-cloth chairs and sofa. The Senator's manner of +speech was slow, considerate,--indeed, sometimes approaching awkwardness +in its plain, farmer-like simplicity. One of the first questions was the +central one, concerning the chief grievance of the South, which had been +presented to Mr. Toombs. + +"Yes," was Mr. Hunter's reply, somewhat less promptly given, "it may be +said to come chiefly from that,--the non-recognition of our property +under the Constitution. We wish our property recognized, as we think the +Constitution provides. We should like to remain with the North." + +He spoke without a particle of expressed passion or ardor, though by +no means incapable, when aroused, as those who have seen his plethoric +countenance and figure can testify, of both. + +"We are mutually helpful to each other. _We want to use your navy and +your factories. You want our cotton. The North to manufacture, and the +South to produce, would make the strongest nation_. But, if we separate, +we shall try to do more in Virginia than we do now. We shall make mills +on our streams." + +His language was chiefly Saxon monosyllables. + +"The climate is not as severe, the nights are not as long with us as +with you. I think we can do well at manufacturing in Virginia. The +Chesapeake Bay and our rivers should aid commerce. As for the slaves, +I think there is little danger of any trouble. There may be some," he +said, with a frankness that surprised us slightly, but in the same +moderate, honest way, his hands clasped upon his breast, and the +extended feet rubbing together slowly, "in the Cotton States, where they +are very thick together; but I think that there is very little danger in +Virginia. The way they take to rise in never shows much skill. The last +time they rose in our State, I think the attempt was brought on by some +sign in an eclipse of the moon." + +Nearly all that passed of political interest is contained in the +foregoing sentences, except one honest reply to a question concerning +his opinion of the probability of the North's attempting coercion. + +"If only three States go out, they may coerce," said Mr. Hunter; "but if +fifteen go, I guess they won't try." + +At the present period of the Rebellion, this indication of the +anticipations of its leaders in engaging in it must be of interest. + +It must be understood that the writer and his companions presented +themselves simply as students, with no fixed exclusive predilections for +either of the public parties in politics,--which, in the writer's case +at least, was certainly a statement wholly true,--and that this evident +freedom from political bias secured perhaps an unusual share of the +confidence of the Southern Senators. It will be remembered, also, that +in every conversation, however startling the revelation of criminal +purpose or absurd motive, the manner of these Senators was always +totally devoid of any approach to that vulgar intellectual levity which +too often, in treating of public affairs, painfully characterizes +the fifth-rate men whom the North sometimes chooses to make its +representatives. The manner of the Southern leaders was to us a +sufficient proof of their sincerity. + + * * * * * + +At the house of the Honorable Jefferson Davis, now in the world's +gaze President of the then nascent Confederacy, the writer, in the +intelligent and genial company of the graduate of Harvard and the +student of Amherst before mentioned, called formally, on the evening +of the New Year's reception-day. A representative from one of the +Southwestern States was present, but we were soon admitted to the front +of the open blazing grate of the reception-parlor. We had before seen +Mr. Davis busy in the Senate. + +The urbanity, the intellectual energy, and the intensely shrewd +watchfulness and ambition, combined with a covertly expressed, but +powerful native instinct for strategy and command, which have made Mr. +Davis a public leader, were evident at the first glance. The Senator +seemed compact of ambition, will, intellect, activity, and shrewdness. +A high and broad, but square forehead; the aquiline nose; the square, +fighting chin; the thin, compressed, but flexible lips; the almost +haggardly sunken cheek; the piercing, not wholly uncovered eye; the +dark, somewhat thinning hair; the clear, slightly browned, nervous +complexion, all well given in the best current photographs, were united +to a figure slightly bent in the shoulders, of more respiratory than +digestive breadth, in outlines almost equally balancing ruggedness and +grace, of compactness wrought by the pressure of perhaps few more than +fifty summers, not above medium height, but composed throughout of silk +and steel. A certain similarity between the decorations of the parlor +and the character of the owner, perhaps more fanciful than real, at once +attracted attention. Everything was simple, graceful, and rich, without +being tropically luxuriant; the paintings appeared to be often of airy, +winged, or white-robed figures, that suggested a reflective and not +unimaginative mind in the one who had chosen them. This was the leader +whom Mr. Calhoun's fervent political metaphysics and his own ambition +for place and power had misled. His conversation was remarkable in +manner for perfect unostentatiousness, clearness, and self-control, and +in matter for breadth and minuteness of political information. In the +whole conversation, he never uttered a broken or awkwardly constructed +sentence, nor wavered, while stating facts, by a single intonation. This +considerable intellectual energy, combined with courtesy, was his +chief fascination. Yet, underneath all lay an atmosphere of covert +haughtiness, and, at times, even of audacious remorselessness, which, +under stimulative circumstances, were to be feared. Undoubtedly, passion +and ambition were natively stronger in the countenance than reason, +conscience, and general sympathy,--an observation best felt to be true +when the face was compared in imagination with the faces of some of the +world's chief benefactors; but culture, native urbanity, and a powerful +reflective tendency had evidently so wrought, that, though conscience +might be imperilled frequently by great adroitness in the casuistry of +self-excuse, justice could not be consciously opposed for any length of +time without powerful silent reaction. The quantity of being, however, +though superior, was not of so high a measure as the quality, and the +principal deficiencies, though perhaps almost the sole ones, were +plainly moral. In his presence, no man could deny to him something of +that dignity, of a kind superior to that of intellect and will, which +must be possessed by every leader as a basis of confidence. But mournful +severe truth would testify that there was yet, at times, palpably +something of the treacherous serpent in the eye, and it could not +readily be told where it would strike. + +In reply to a reference to a somewhat celebrated speech by Senator +Benjamin of Louisiana, which we had heard the day previous, he said that +we might consider it, as a whole, a very fair statement both of the +arguments and the purposes of the South. Perhaps a speech of more +horrible doctrine, upheld by equal argumentative and rhetorical power, +has never been heard in the American Senate. In reply, also, to the one +central question concerning the chief grievance of the South, he gave in +substance the same answer, uttered perhaps with more logical calmness, +that had been given by Mr. Hunter and Mr. Toombs, that it was +substantially covered by Mr. Calhoun's old complaint, the +non-recognition of slave-property under the Federal Constitution. Of +course we were as yet too well established in the belief that slavery in +the United States is upheld by the Constitution only very remotely and +indirectly, under local or municipal law, to desire, even by questions, +to draw on any debate. + +In reply to a question by the gentleman from Harvard, he spoke of a +Central Confederacy as altogether improbable, and thought, if Georgia +seceded, as the telegrams for the last fortnight had indicated she +would, Maryland would be sure to go. "I think the commercial and +political interests of Maryland," he remarked, in his calm and simple, +but distinct and watchful manner, manifesting, too, at the same time, +a natural command of dignified, antithetical sentences, "would be +promoted, perhaps can be only preserved, by secession. Her territory +extends on both sides of a great inland water communication, and is at +the natural Atlantic outlet, by railway, of the Valley of the West. +Baltimore in the Union is sure to be inferior to Philadelphia and New +York: Baltimore out of the Union is sure to become a great commercial +city. In every way, whether we regard her own people or their usefulness +to other States, I think the interests of Maryland would be promoted by +secession." + +"But would not Maryland lose many more slaves, as the border member of a +foreign confederacy, than she does now in the Union?" + +The reply to this question we looked for with the greatest interest, +since no foreign nation, such as the North would be, in case of +the success of the attempted Confederacy, ever thinks of giving up +fugitives, and since the policy of the South upon this point, in case +she should succeed, would determine the possibility or impossibility of +peace between the two portions of the Continent. + +Mr. Davis's reply was in the following words, uttered in a tone of equal +shrewdness, calmness, and decision:-- + +"I think, for all Maryland would lose in that way she would be more than +repaid by reprisals. While we are one nation and you steal our property, +we have little redress; _but when we become two nations, we shall say, +Two can play at this game_." + +We breathed more freely after so frank an utterance. The great +importance of this reply, coming from the even then proposed political +chief of the Confederacy, as indicating the impossibility of peace, even +in case of the recognition of the South, so long as it should continue, +as it has begun, to make Slavery the chief corner-stone of the State, +will be at once perceived. + +"But," the writer ventured to inquire, "what will become of the Federal +District, since its inhabitants have no 'State right of secession'?" + +"Have you ever studied law?" he asked. + +The gentleman from Amherst confessed our ignorance of any point covering +the case. + +"There is a rule in law," continued Mr. Davis, "that, when property is +granted by one party to another for use for any specified purpose, and +ceases to be used for that purpose, it reverts by law to the donor. +Now the territory constituting at present the District of Columbia was +granted, as you well know, by Maryland to the United States for use as +the seat of the Federal capital. When it ceases to be used for that +purpose, it, with all its public fixtures, will revert by law to +Maryland. But," and his eye brightened to the hue of cold steel in a +way the writer will never forget, as he uttered, in a tone perfectly +self-poised, undaunted, and slightly defiant, the words, "_that is a +point which may be settled by force rather than by reason_." + +This was January 1, 1861, only eleven days after South Carolina had +passed her Act of Secession, and shows that even then, notwithstanding +the professed desire of the South to depart in peace, the attack not +only upon the national principles of union, but upon the national +property as well, was projected. Mr. Davis, loaded with the benefits of +his country, yet occupied a seat in the Senate Chamber, under the most +solemn oath to uphold its Constitution, which, even if his grievances +had been well founded, afforded Constitutional and peaceful remedies +that he had never attempted to use. Presenting regards, very formal +indeed, sick at heart, indignant, and anxious, we left the house of the +traitor. + +The historical conclusions to be drawn from the above slight sketches +are important in several respects. Mr. Davis, Mr. Toombs, and Mr. Hunter +are among the strongest leaders of the Rebellion. Representing the +Northern, Southeastern, and Southwestern populations of the disaffected +regions, their testimony had a wide application, and was perhaps as +characteristic and pointed in these brief conversations, occurring just +upon the eve of the bursting of the storm, as we should have heard in a +hundred interviews. That they spoke frankly was not only evidenced to +us by their entire manner, but, as it is not unimportant to repeat, +has been proved by subsequent events. The conversations, therefore, +indicate,-- + +1. That the grand, fundamental, legal ground for the Rebellion was a +view of Constitutional rights by which property in human beings claimed +equal protection under the General Government with the products of Free +Labor, and to be admitted, therefore, at will, to all places under the +jurisdiction of the Federal power, and not simply to be protected under +local or municipal law,--rights which the South proposed to vindicate, +constitutionally, by Secession, or, in other words, by the domination of +State over National sovereignty: an entire view of the true intent of +the Federal compacts and powers, which, in the great debates between Mr. +Webster and Mr. Calhoun, to say nothing of elucidations by previous and +subsequent jurists and statesmen, has been again and again abundantly +demonstrated to be absurd. + +2. That the immediate, comprehensive pretext for the Rebellion was the +success of a legal majority having in its platform of principles the +doctrine of the non-extension of involuntary human bondage in the +territories over which the Constitution had given to the whole people +absolute control, a doctrine which the mass of the Southern populations +were educated to believe not only deadly to their local privileges, but +distinctly unconstitutional. + +3. That the leaders of the Rebellion frankly admitted, that, excepting +this one point of Constitutional grievance, the interests of the +populations which they represented would be better subserved in the +Union than out of it. + +4. That the leaders of the Rebellion appear not to have anticipated +coercion; but yet, from the earliest days of Secession, contemplated +the spoliation of the Southern National property, and particularly the +seizure of the Federal capital. + +5. That, even should the independence of the South be acknowledged, +peace could not result so long as Slavery should continue: their avowed +system of reprisals for the certain escape of slaves precluding all +force in any but piratical international law. + +6. That the spirit of the Rebellion is the haughty, grasping, and, +except within its own circle, the remorseless spirit universally +characteristic of oligarchies, before the success of whose principles +upon this continent the liberties of the whites could be no safer than +those of the blacks. + +"We are the gentlemen of this land," said the Georgian senator, "and +gentlemen always make revolutions in history." And just previously he +had said, with haughty significance, "_Your_ poor population can hold +ward-meetings, and can vote. But _we_ know better how to take care of +ours. They are in the fields, and under the eye of their overseers." + +In these two brief remarks, taken singly, or, especially, in +juxtaposition, from so representative a source, and so characteristic +of oligarchical opinions everywhere, appears condensed the suggestive +political warning of these times, indeed of all times, and which a +people regardful of civil and religious liberty can never be slow to +heed. + +Let the pride of race and the aristocratic tendencies which underlie the +resistance of the South prevail, and we shall see a new America. The +land of the fathers and of the present will become strange to us. In +place of a thriving population, each member socially independent, +self-respecting, contented, and industrious, contributing, therefore, +to the general welfare, and preserving to posterity and to mankind a +national future of inconceivable power and grandeur, we shall see a +class of unemployed rich and unemployed poor, the former a handful, the +latter a host, in perpetual feud. The asylum of nations, ungratefully +rejecting the principles of equality, to which it has owed a career +of prosperity unexampled in history, will find in arrested commerce, +depressed credit, checked manufactures, an effeminate and selfish, +however brilliant, governing class, and an impoverished and imbruted +industrial population, the consequences of turning back upon its path of +advance. The condition of the most unfortunate aristocracies of the Old +World will become ours. + +But the venerated principles partially promulgated in our golden age +forbid such unhappy auspices. Undoubtedly gentlemen make revolutions in +history; but since all may be Christians, may not all men be gentlemen? +At least, have not all men, everywhere, the sacred and comprehensive +right of equal freedom of endeavor to occupy their highest capacities? +_Does not the Creator, who makes nothing in vain, wherever He implants a +power, imply a command to exercise that power according to the highest +aspiration, and is not responsibility eternally exacted, wherever +power and command coexist?_ By that fearful sanction, may not all men, +everywhere, become the best they can become? What that may be, is not +free, equal, and perpetual experiment, judged by conscience in the +individual and by philanthropy in his brother, and not by arrogance +or cupidity in his oppressor, to decide? To secure the wisdom and +perpetuity of this experiment, are not governments instituted? Is not +a monopoly of opportunity by any single class, by all historical and +theoretical proof, not only unjust to the excluded, but crippling +and suicidal to the State? Nay, is not the slightest infringement of +regulated social and political justice, liberty, and humanity, in +the person of black or of white, that makes the greatest potential +development of the highest in human nature impossible or difficult, to +be resisted, as a violation of the peace of the soul, endless treachery +to mankind, an affront to Heaven? Would not the very soil of America, +in which Liberty is said to inhere, cry out and rise against any but an +affirmative answer to such questions? + +A near future will decide. + + * * * * * + + +THE HOUR AND THE MAN. + + +The Twenty-Second of September, 1862, bids fair to become as remarkable +a date in American history as the Fourth of July, 1776; for on that day +the President of the United States, availing himself of the full powers +of his position, declared this country free from that slaveholding +oligarchy which had so long governed it in peace, and the influence of +which was so potently felt for more than a year after it had broken up +the Union, and made war upon the Federal Government. Be the event what +it may,--and the incidents of the war have taught us not to be too +sanguine as to the results of any given movement,--President Lincoln has +placed the American nation in a proper attitude with respect to that +institution the existence of which had so long been the scandal and +the disgrace of a people claiming to be the freest on earth, but whose +powers had been systematically used and abused for the maintenance and +the extension of slave-labor. + +It was our misfortune, and in some sense it was also our fault, that we +were bound to uphold the worst system of slavery that ever was known +among men; for we must judge of every wrong that is perpetrated by the +circumstances that are connected with it, and our oppression of the +African race was peculiarly offensive, inasmuch as it was a proceeding +in flagrant violation of our constantly avowed principles, was continued +in face of the opinions of the founders of the nation, was frankly +upheld on the unmanly ground that the intellectual weakness of the +slaves rendered it safe to oppress them, and was not excused by that +general ignorance of right which has so often been brought forward in +palliation of wrong,--as slavery had come under the ban of Christendom +years before Americans could be found boldly bad enough to claim for it +a divine origin, and to avow that it was a proper, and even the best, +foundation for civil society. Our offence was of the rankest, and its +peculiar character rendered us odious in the eyes of the nations, who +would not admit the force of our plea as to the great difficulties that +lay in the way of the removal of the evil, as they had seen it condemned +by most communities, and abolished by some of their number. + +The very circumstance upon which Americans have relied for the +justification of their form of slavery, namely, that it was confined to +one race, and that race widely separated from all other races by +the existence of peculiar characteristics, has been regarded as an +aggravation of their misconduct by all humane and disinterested persons. +The Greek system of slavery, which was based on the idea that Greeks +were noblemen of Heaven's own creating, and that they therefore were +justified in treating all other men as inferiors, and making the same +use of them as they made of horses; the Roman system, which was based on +the will of society, and therefore made no exceptions on the score of +color, but saw in all strangers only creatures of chase; the Mussulman +system, brought out so strongly by the action of the States of Barbary, +and which was colored by the character of the long quarrel between +Mahometans and Christians, and under which Northern Africa was filled +with myriads of slaves from Southern Europe, among whom were men of +the highest intellect,--Cervantes, for example;--all these systems +of servitude, and others that might be adduced, were respectable in +comparison with our system, which proceeded upon the blasphemous +assumption that God had created and set apart one race that should +forever dwell in the house of bondage. If, in some respects, our system +has been more humane than that of other peoples in other times, the fact +is owing to that general improvement which has taken place the earth +over during the present century. The world has gone forward, and even +American slaveholders have been compelled to go with it, whether they +would or not. + +It was a distinctive feature of slavery, as here known, that it tended +to debauch the mind of Christendom. So long as all men were liable to be +enslaved, and even Shakspeare and Milton were in some danger of sharing +the fate of Cervantes,--and the Barbary corsairs did actually carry +off men from the British Islands in the times of Milton and +Shakspeare,--there could not fail to grow up a general hostility to +slavery, and the institution was booked for destruction. But when +slavery came to be considered as the appropriate condition of one race, +and the members of that race so highly qualified to engage in the +production of cotton and sugar, tobacco and rice, the danger was, not +only that slavery would once more come into favor, but that the African +slave-trade would be replaced in the list of legitimate commercial +pursuits, and become more extensive than it was in those days when it +was defended by bishops and kings' sons in the British House of Lords. +That this is not an unfounded opinion will be admitted by those who +recollect that the London "Times," that representative of the average +English mind, but recently published articles that could mean nothing +less than a desire to revive the old system of slavery, with all that +should be necessary to maintain it in force; that Mr. Carlyle is an +advocate of the oppression of negroes; and that the French Government +at one time seemed disposed to have resort to a course that must, if +adopted, have converted Africa into a storehouse of slaves. + +Our slaveholders were not blind to this altered state of the European +mind, of which they availed themselves, and of which, in a certain +sense, they had the best of all rights to avail themselves, for it was +largely their own work. At the same time that England abolished slavery +in her dominions, the chief Nullifiers, who were the fathers of the +Secession Rebellion, assumed the position that negro slavery was good in +itself, and that it was the duty of white men to uphold and to extend +it. This was done by Governor McDuffie, of South Carolina, in 1834, +and it was warmly approved by many Southern men, as well out of South +Carolina as in that most fanatical of States, but generally condemned by +the Democrats of that time, though now it is not uncommon to find men +in the North who accept all that the old Nullifier put forward as a new +truth eight-and-twenty years ago. Earnestly and zealously, and with no +small amount of talent, the friends of slavery labored to impose their +views upon the entire Southern mind,--and that not so much because they +loved slavery for itself as because they knew, that, if the slaveholding +interest could be placed in opposition to the Federal Union, that Union +might be destroyed. They were fanatics in their attachment to slavery, +but even their fanaticism was secondary to their hatred of that +power which, as represented by Andrew Jackson, had trampled down +Nullification, and compelled Carolina and Calhoun to retreat from cannon +and the gallows. Mr. Rhett, then Mr. Barnwell Smith, said, in the +debates in the Convention on the proposition to accept the Tariff +Compromise of 1833, that he hated the star-spangled banner; and +unquestionably he expressed the feelings of many of his contemporaries, +who deemed submission prudent, but who were consoled by the reflection +that slavery would afford them a far better means for breaking up the +Union than it was possible to get through the existence of any tariff, +no matter how protective it might be. All the great leaders of the first +Secession school had passed away from the earth, when Rhett "still +lived" to see the flag he hated pulled down before the fire that was +poured upon Fort Sumter from Carolina's batteries worked by the hands +of Carolinians. Calhoun, Hamilton, McDuffie, Hayne, Trumbull, Cooper, +Harper, Preston, and others, men of the first intellectual rank in +America, had departed; but Rhett survived to see what they had labored +to effect, and what they would have effected, had they not encountered +one of those iron spirits to whom is sometimes intrusted the government +of nations, and who are of more value to nations than gold and fleets +and armies. All that we have lately seen done, and more, would have been +done thirty years since, had any other man than Andrew Jackson been at +that time President of the United States. There was much cant in those +days about "the one-man power," because President Jackson saw fit to +make use of the Constitutional qualified veto-power to express his +opposition to certain measures adopted by Congress; but the best +exhibition of "the one-man power" that the country ever saw, then or +before or since, was when the same magistrate crushed Nullification, +maintained the Union, and secured the nation's peace for more than a +quarter of a century. We never knew what a great man Jackson was, until +the country was cursed by Buchanan's occupation of the same chair that +Jackson had filled,--a chair that he was unworthy to dust,--and by his +cowardice and treachery which made civil war inevitable. One man, at the +close of 1860, could have done more than has yet been accomplished by +the million of men who have been called to arms because no such man was +then in the nation's service. The "one hour of Dundee" was not more +wanting to the Stuarts than the one month of Jackson was wanting to us +but two years ago. + +The powerful teaching of the Nullifiers was successful. The South, which +assumed to be the exclusive seat of American nationality, while the +North was declared given up to sectionalism, with no other lights on its +path than "blue lights," became the South so devoted to slavery that +it could see nothing else in the country. Old Union men of 1832 became +Secessionists, though Nullification, the milder thing of the two, had +been too much for them to endure. They not only endured the more hideous +evil, but they embraced it. Between 1832 and 1860 a change had been +wrought such as twice that time could not have accomplished at any +earlier period of human history. The old Southern ideas respecting +slavery had disappeared, and that institution had become an object of +idolatry, so that any criticisms to which it was subjected kindled the +same sort of flame that is excited in a pious community when objects of +devotion are assailed and destroyed by the hands of unbelievers. +The astonishing material prosperity that accompanied the system of +slave-labor had, no doubt, much to do with the regard that was bestowed +upon the system itself. That was the time when Cotton became King,--at +least, in the opinion of its worshippers. The Democratic party of the +North passed from that position of radicalism to which the name of +_Locofocoism_ was given, to the position of supporters of the extremest +Southern doctrines, so that for some years it appeared to exist for no +other purpose than to do garrison-duty in the Free States, the cost of +its maintenance being supplied by the Federal revenues. Abroad the same +change began to be noted, the demand for cotton prevailing over the +power of conscience. Everything worked as well for evil as it could +work, and as if Satan himself had condescended to accept the post of +stage-manager for the disturbers of America's peace. + +To take advantage of the change that had been brought about was the +purpose of the whole political population of the South. But though that +section was united in its determination to support the supremacy of +slavery, it was far from being united in its opinions as to the best +mode of accomplishing its object. There were three parties in the South +in the last days of the old Union. The first, and the largest, of these +parties answered very nearly to the Southern portion of the Democratic +party, and contained whatever of sense and force belonged to the South. +It was made up of men who were firmly resolved upon one thing, namely, +that they would ruin the Union, if they should forever lose the power to +rule it; but they had the sagacity to see that the ends which they had +in view could be more easily achieved in the Union than out of it. +They were not disunionists _per se_, but were quite ready to become +disunionists, if the Union was to be governed otherwise than in the +direct and immediate interest of slavery. Slavery was the basis of their +political system, and they knew that it could be better served by the +American Union's continued existence than by the construction of +a Southern Confederacy, provided the former should do all that +slaveholders might require it to do. + +The second Southern party, and the smallest of them all, was composed +of the minions of the Nullifiers, and of their immediate followers, men +whose especial object it was to destroy the Union, and who hated the +subservient portion of the Northern people far more bitterly than they +hated Republicans, or even Abolitionists. They would have preferred +abolition and disunion to the triumph of slavery and the preservation of +the Union. It was not that they loved slavery less, but that they hated +the Union more. Even if the country should submit to the South, the +leaders of this faction knew that they would not be the Southrons to +whom should be intrusted the powers and the business of government. Few +of them were of much account even in their own States, and generally +they could have been set down as chiefs of the opposition to everything +that was reasonable. A remarkable proof of the little hold which this +class of men had on even the most mad of the Southern States, when at +the height of their fury, was afforded by the refusal of South Carolina +to elect Mr. Rhett Governor, her Legislature conferring that post on Mr. +Pickens, a moderate man when compared with Mr. Rhett, and who, there +is reason for believing, would have prevented a resort to Secession +altogether, could he have done so without sacrificing what he held to be +his honor. + +The third Southern party consisted of men who desired the continuance +of the Union, but who wished that some "concessions" should be made, or +"compromises" effected, in order to satisfy men, one portion of whom +were resolved upon having everything, while the other portion were +resolute in their purpose to destroy everything that then existed of a +national character. This third party was mostly composed of those +timid men whose votes count for much at ordinary periods, but who in +extraordinary times are worse than worthless, being in fact incumbrances +on bolder men. They loved the Union, because they loved peace, and were +opposed to violence of all kinds; but their Unionism was much like +Bailie Macwheeble's conscience, which was described as never doing him +any harm. What they would have done, had Government been able to send a +strong force to their assistance at the beginning of the war, we cannot +undertake to say; but they have done little to aid the Federal cause in +the field, while their influence in the Federal councils has been more +prejudicial to the country than the open exertions of the Secessionists +to effect the nation's destruction. + +Of these parties, the first had every reason to believe that it could +soon regain possession of Congress, and that in 1864 it would be able to +elect its candidate to the Presidency. Hence it had no wish to dissolve +the Union; and if its leaders could have had their way, the Union would +have been spared. But the second party, making up for its deficiency in +numbers by the intensity of its zeal, and laboring untiringly, was too +much for the moderates. Hate is a stronger feeling than love of any +kind, stronger even than love of spoils; and the men who followed Rhett +and Yancey, Pryor and Spratt, hated the Union with a perfect hatred. +They got ahead of the men who followed Davis and Stephens, and the rest +of those Southern chiefs who would have been content with the complete +triumph of Southern principles in the Republic as it stood in 1860. As +they broke up the Democratic party in order to render the election +of the Republican candidate certain, so that they might found on his +election the _cri de guerre_ of a "sectional triumph" over the South, so +they "coerced" the Southern people into the adoption of a war-policy. We +have more than once heard Mr. Lincoln blamed for "precipitating matters" +in April, 1861. He should have temporized, it has been said, and so +have preserved peace; but when he called for seventy-five thousand +volunteers, he made war unavoidable. The truth is, that Mr. Lincoln did +not begin the war. It was begun by the South. His call for volunteers +was the consequence of war being made on the nation, and not the cause +of war being made either on the South or by the South. The enemy fired +upon and took Fort Sumter before the first call for volunteers was +issued; and that proceeding must be admitted to have been an act of war, +unless we are prepared to admit that there is a right of Secession. +And Fort Sumter was fired upon and taken through the influence of the +violent party at the South, who were resolved that there should be war. +They knew that it was beyond the power of the Federal Government to send +supplies to the doomed fort, and that in a few days it would pass into +the hands of the Confederates; and this they determined to prevent, +because they knew also that the mere surrender of the garrison, when +it had eaten its last rations, would not suffice to "fire the Northern +heart." They carried their point, and hence it was that war was begun +the middle of April, 1861. But for the triumph of the violent Southern +party, the contest might have been postponed, and even a peace patched +up for the time, and the inevitable struggle put off to a future day. +As it was, Government had no choice, and was compelled to fight; and it +would have been compelled to fight, had it been composed entirely of +Quakers. + +War being unavoidable, and it being clear that slavery was the cause of +it as well as its occasion, and that it would be the main support of our +enemy, it ought to have followed that our first blow should be directed +against that institution. Nothing of the kind happened. Whatever +Government may have thought on the subject, it did nothing to injure +slavery. But for this forbearance, which now appears so astonishing, we +are not disposed to blame the President. He acted as the representative +of the country, which was not then prepared to act vigorously against +the root of the evil that afflicted it. A moral blindness prevailed, +which proved most injurious to the Union cause, and from the effect of +which it may never recover. It was supposed that it was yet possible to +"conciliate" the South, and that that section could be induced to "come +back" into the Union, provided nothing should be done to hurt its +feelings or injure its interests! Looking back to the summer of 1861, it +is with difficulty that we can believe that men were then in possession +of their senses, so inconsistent was their conduct. The Rebels were at +least as sensitive on the subject of their military character as they +were on that of slavery; and yet, while we could not be sufficiently +servile on the latter subject, we acted most offensively on the former. +We asserted, in every form and variety of language, our ability to "put +them down;" and but for the circumstance that not the slightest atom of +ability marked the management of our military affairs, we should +have made our boasting good. Men who could not say enough to satisfy +themselves on the point of the right of the chivalrous Southrons to +create, breed, work, and sell slaves, were equally loud-mouthed in their +expressed purpose to "put down" the said Southrons because they had +rebelled, and rebelled only because they were slaveholders, and for the +purpose of placing slavery beyond the reach of wordy assault in the +country of which it should be the governing power. There has been much +complaint that foreigners have not understood the nature of our quarrel, +and that the general European hostility to the American national cause +is owing to their ignorance of American affairs. How that may be we +shall not stop to inquire; but it is beyond dispute that no European +community has ever displayed a more glaring ignorance of the character +of the contest here waged than was exhibited by most Americans in the +early months of that contest, and down to a recent period. The war +was treated by nearly the whole people as if slavery had no possible +connection with it, and as if all mention of slavery in matters +pertaining to the war were necessarily an impertinence, a foreign +subject lugged into a domestic discussion. Three-fourths of the people +were disposed querulously to ask why Abolitionists couldn't let slavery +alone in war-time. It was a bad thing, was Abolitionism, in time of +peace; but its badness was vastly increased when we had war upon our +hands. Half the other fourth of the citizens were disposed to agree with +the majority, but very shame kept them silent. It was only the few who +had a proper conception of the state of things, and they had little +influence with the people, and, consequently, none with Government. Had +they said much, or attempted to do anything, probably they would have +found Federal arms directed against themselves with much more of force +and effectiveness in their use than were manifested when they were +directed against the Rebels. When a Union general could announce that +he would make use of the Northern soldiers under his command to destroy +slaves who should be so audacious as to rebel against Rebels, and the +announcement was received with rapturous approval at the North, it was +enough to convince every intelligent and reflecting man that no just +idea of the struggle we were engaged in was common, and that a blind +people were following blind leaders into the ditch,--even into that +"last ditch" to which the Secessionists have so often been doomed, but +in which they so obstinately continue to refuse to find their own and +their cause's grave. + +That Government was not much ahead of the people in 1861, and through +most of the present year, respecting the position of slavery, is very +evident to all who know what it did, and what it refused to do, with +regard to that institution. With a hardiness that would have been +strongly offensive, if it had not been singularly ridiculous, Mr. Seward +told the astonished world of Europe that the fate of slavery did not +depend upon the event of our contest,--which was as much as to say that +we should not injure it, happen what might; and no one then supposed +that the Confederates would willingly strike a blow at it, either to +conciliate foreign nations or to obtain black soldiers. The words of the +Secretary of State did us harm in England, with the religious portion of +whose people it is something like an article of faith that slavery is +an addition to the list of deadly sins. They injured us, too, with the +members of the various schools of liberal politicians over all Europe; +and they furnished to our enemies abroad the argument that there really +was no difference between the North and the South on the slavery +question, and that therefore the sympathies of all generous minds +should be with the Southrons, who were the weaker party. Our cause was +irreparably damaged in Europe through the indiscretion of the Honorable +Secretary, who cannot be accused of any love for slavery, but who was +then, as he appears to be up to the present hour, ignorant of the nature +and the extent of the contest of which his country is the scene. Other +members of the Administration had sounder ideas, but their weight in it +was not equal to that of the Secretary of State. + +It is but fair to the President to say, that his conduct was such that +it was obvious that he did not favor slavery because he had any respect +for it. He pulled so hard upon the chains that bound him, that his +desire to throw them off was clear to the world; but they were too +strong, and too well fastened, to be got rid of easily. He feared that +all the Unionists of the Border States would be lost, if he should adopt +the views of the Emancipationists; and the fear was natural, though in +point of fact his course had no good effect in those States, beyond that +of conciliating a portion of the Kentuckians. North Carolina, under the +old system the most moderate of the Slave States, was as far gone in +Secession as South Carolina, and furnished far more men to the Southern +armies than her neighbor. The Virginians and Missourians who went with +us would have pursued the same course, had the President's opinions +on slavery been as radical and pronounced as those of Mr. Garrison. +Maryland was kept from wheeling into the Secession line only by the +presence on her soil, and in her vicinity, of strong Federal armies. In +Tennessee, at a later period of the war, as in North Carolina, Federal +power extended as far as Federal guns could throw Federal shot, though +Tennessee had not been renowned for her extreme attachment to slavery. +But the heavy weight on the Presidential mind came from the Free States, +in which the Pro-Slavery party was so powerful, and the nature of the +war was so little understood, that it was impossible for Government to +strike an effective blow at the source of the enemy's strength. Before +that could be done, it would be necessary that the Northern mind should +be trained to justice in the school of adversity. The position of the +President in 1861 was not unlike to that which the Prince of Orange held +in 1687. Had William made his attempt on England in 1687, the end would +have been failure as complete as that of Monmouth in 1685. It was +necessary that the English mind should be educated up to the point of +throwing aside some cherished doctrines, the maintenance of which stood +in the way of England's safety, prosperity, and greatness. William +allowed the fruit he sought to ripen, and in 1688 he was able to do with +ease that which no human power could have done in 1687. So was it with +Mr. Lincoln, and here. Had the Proclamation lately put forth been issued +in 1861, either it would have fallen dead, or it would have met with +such opposition in the North as would have rendered it impossible to +prosecute the war with any hope of success. There would probably have +been _pronunciamientos_ from some of our armies, and the Union might +have been shivered to pieces without the enemy's lifting their hands +further against it. We do not say that such would have been the course +of events, had the Proclamation then appeared, but it might have taken +that turn; and the President had to allow for possibilities that perhaps +it never occurred to private individuals to think of,--men who had no +sense of responsibility either to the country, to the national cause, or +to the tribunal of history. He would not move as he was advised to move +by good men who had not taken into consideration all the circumstances +of the case, and who could not feel as he was forced to feel because he +was President of the United States. Probably, if he had been a private +citizen, he would have been the foremost man of the Emancipation party; +but the place he holds is so high that he must look over the whole land, +and necessarily he sees much that others can never behold. He saw that +one of two things would happen in a few months after the beginning of +active warfare, toward the close of last winter: either the Rebels would +be beaten in the field, in which event there would be reasonable hope +of the Union's reconstruction, and the people could then take charge +of slavery, and settle its future condition as to them should seem +best,--or our armies would be beaten, and the people would be made to +understand that slavery could no longer be allowed to exist for the +support of an enemy who had announced from the beginning of their +war-movement that their choice was fixed upon conquest, or, failing +that, annihilation. + +It was written that we should fail in the field. We sought to take +Richmond, with an army of force that appeared to be adequate to the +work. We were beaten; and after some months of severe warfare, the +country had the supreme felicity of celebrating the eighty-sixth +anniversary of its Independence by thanking Heaven that its principal +army had escaped capture by falling back to the fever-laden banks of a +river on which lay a naval force so strong as to prevent the further +advance of the victorious Southrons. The exertions that were made to +remove that army from a place that threatened its total destruction +through pestilence led to another series of actions, in which we were +again beaten, and the Secession armies found themselves hard by the very +station which they had so long held after their victory at Bull Run. +Had their numbers been half as large as we estimated them by way of +accounting for our defeats, they could have marched into Washington, +and the American Union would have been at an end, while the Southern +Confederacy would have taken the place which the United States had +possessed among the nations. Fortunately, the enemy were not strong +enough to hazard everything upon one daring stroke. General Lee was +as prudent, or as timid, after his victories over General Pope, as, +according to some authorities, Hannibal was after winning "the field +of blood" at Cannae. What he did, however, was sufficient to show +how serious was the danger that threatened us. If he could not take +Washington, which stood for Rome, he might take Baltimore, which should +be Capua. He entered Maryland, and his movements struck dismay into +Pennsylvania. Harrisburg was marked for seizure, and the archives of the +second State of the Union were sent to New York; and Philadelphia was +considered so unsafe as to cause men to remove articles of value thence +to her ancient rival's protection. That the enemy meant to invade the +North cannot well be doubted; but the resistance they encountered, +leading to their defeat at South Mountain and Antietam, forced them to +retreat. Had they won at Antietam, not only would Washington have been +cut off from land-communication with the North, but Pennsylvania would +have been invaded, and the Southrons would have fattened on the produce +of her rich fields. While these things were taking place in Virginia and +Maryland, Fortune had proved equally unfavorable to us in the South and +the Southwest. We had been defeated near Charleston, and most of our +troops at Port Royal had been transferred to Virginia. Charleston and +Mobile saw ships constantly entering their harbors, bringing supplies to +the Secession forces. Wilmington and Savannah were less liable to attack +than some Northern towns. An attack on Vicksburg had ended in Federal +failure. By the aid of gunboats we had prevented the enemy from taking +Baton Rouge, and destroyed their iron-clad Arkansas; but our soldiers +had to abandon that town, and leave it to be watched by ships, while +they hastened to the defence of New Orleans, a city which they could not +have held half an hour, had the protecting naval force been withdrawn. +The Southwest was mostly abandoned by our troops, and the tide of war +had rolled back to the banks of the Ohio. Nashville was looked upon as +lost, Louisville was in great danger of being taken, and for some days +there was a perfect panic throughout the country respecting the fate of +Cincinnati, the prevailing opinion being that the enemy had as good +a chance of getting possession of that town as we had of maintaining +possession of it. There was hardly a quarter to which a Unionist could +look without encountering something that filled his mind with vexation, +disappointment, shame, and gloom. All that the most hopeful of loyal men +could say was, that the enemy had been made to evacuate Maryland, and +that they had not proceeded beyond threats against any Northern State: +and that was a fine theme for congratulations, after seventeen months +of warfare, in which the Rebels were to have been beaten and the Union +restored! + +Such was the state of affairs, when, six days after the Battle of +Antietam, President Lincoln issued his Proclamation against slavery. +Some persons were pleased to be much astonished when it appeared. They +said they had been deceived. They were right. They were self-deceived. +They had deceived themselves. The President had received their pledge +of support, which they, with an egotism which is not uncommon with +politicians, had construed into a pledge from him to support slavery at +all hazards, under all circumstances, and against all comers. He had +given no pledge either to them or to their opponents. Plainly as man +could speak, he had said that his object was the nation's safety, +either with slavery or without it, the fate of slavery being with him a +secondary matter. If any construction was to be put upon his words to +Mr. Greeley beyond their plainest possible meaning, it was that he +preferred the destruction of slavery to its conservation, for it was +known that he had been an anti-slavery man for years, and he had been +made President by a party which was charged by its foes with being +so fanatically opposed to slavery that it was ready to destroy the +Constitution in order to gain a place from which it could hope to effect +its extermination. But Mr. Lincoln meant neither more nor less than what +he said, his sole object being the overthrow of the Rebels. He has done +no more than any President would have been compelled to do who should +have sought to do his duty. Mr. Douglas could have done no less, had he +been chosen President, and had rebellion followed his election, as we +believe would have been the fact. The Proclamation is not an "Abolition" +state-paper. Not one line of it is of such matter as any Abolitionist +would have penned, though all Abolitionists may be glad that it has +appeared, because its promulgation is a step in the right direction,--a +step sure to be taken, unless the first Federal efforts should also have +been the last, because leading to the defeat of the Rebels, and the +return of peace. The President nowhere says that he seeks the abolition +of slavery. The blow he has dealt is directed against slavery in the +dominions of the Confederacy. That Confederacy claims to be a nation, +and some of our acts amount to a virtual recognition of the claim which +it makes. Now, if we were at war with an old nation of which slavery was +one of the institutions, it could not be said that we had not the +right to offer freedom to its slaves. Objection might be made to +the proclamation of an offer of the kind, but it would be based on +expediency. England would not accept a plan that was formed half a +century ago for the partition of the United States, and which had for +its leading idea the proclamation of freedom to American slaves; but +her refusal was owing to the circumstance that she was herself a great +slaveholding power, and she had no thought of establishing a precedent +that might soon have been used with fatal effect against herself. She +did not close her ears to the proposition because she had any doubt +as to her right to avail herself of an offer of freedom to slaves, +or because she supposed that to make such an offer would be to act +immorally, but because it was inexpedient for her to proceed to +extremities with us, due regard being had to her own interests. Had +slavery been abolished in her dominions twenty years earlier, she would +have acted against American slavery in 1812-15, and probably with entire +success. President Lincoln does not purpose going so far as England +could have gone with perfect propriety. She could have proclaimed +freedom to American slaves without limitation. He has regard to the +character of the war that exists, and so his Proclamation is not threat, +but a warning. In substance, he tells the Rebels, that, if they shall +persist in their rebellion after a certain date, their slaves shall be +made free, if it shall be in his power to liberate them. He gives +them exactly one hundred days in which to make their election between +submission and slavery and resistance and ruin; and these hundred days +may become as noted in history as those Hundred Days which formed the +second reign of Napoleon I., as well through the consequences of the +action that shall mark their course as through the gravity of that +action itself. + +Objections have been made to the time of issuing the Proclamation. Why, +it has been asked, spring it so suddenly upon the country? Why publish +it just as the tide of war was turning in our favor? Why not wait, and +see what the effect would be on the Southern mind of the victories won +in Maryland?--We have no knowledge of the immediate reasons that moved +the President to select the twenty-second of September for the date of +his Proclamation; but we can see three reasons why that day was a good +one for the deed which thereon was done. The President may have argued, +(1,) that the American mind had been brought up to the point of +emancipation under certain well-defined conditions, and that, if he +should not avail himself of the state of opinion, the opportunity +afforded him might pass away, never to return with equal force; (2,) +that foreign nations might base acknowledgment of the Confederacy on the +defeats experienced by our armies in the last days of August, on the +danger of Washington, and on the advance of Rebel armies to the Ohio, +and he was determined that they should, if admitting the Confederacy +to national rank, place themselves in the position of supporters of +slavery; and, (3,) that the successes won by our army in Maryland, +considering the disgraceful business at Harper's Ferry, were not of that +pronounced character which entitles us to assert any supremacy over the +enemy as soldiers. Something like this would seem to be the process +through which President Lincoln arrived at the sound conclusion that the +hour had come to strike a heavy blow at the enemy, and that he was the +man for the hour. + +Thus much for the Proclamation itself, the appearance of which indicates +the beginning of a new period in the Secession contest, and shows that +the American people are capable of conquering their prejudices, provided +their schooling shall be sufficiently severe and costly. But the +Proclamation itself, and without any change in our military policy, +cannot be expected to accomplish anything for the Federal cause. Its +doctrines must be enforced, if there is to be any practical effect from +the change of position taken by the country and the President. If the +same want of capacity that has hitherto characterized the war on our +part is to be exhibited hereafter, the Proclamation might as well have +been levelled against the evils of intemperance as against the evils +of slavery. Never, since war began, has there been such imbecility +displayed in waging it as we have contrived to display in our attacks on +the enemies of the Union. It used to be supposed that Austria was the +slowest and the most stupid of military countries; but America has +got ahead of Austria in the art of doing nothing--or worse than +nothing--with myriads of men and millions of money. We stand before the +world a people to whom military success seems seldom possible, and, +when possible, rarely useful. If we win a victory, we spend weeks in +contemplating its beauties, and never think of improving it. Had one of +our generals won the Battle of Jena, he would have rested for six weeks, +and permitted the Prussian army to reorganize, instead of following it +with that swiftness which alone can prevent brave men from speedily +rallying after a lost battle. Had one of them won Waterloo, he would +not have dreamed of entering France, but would have liberally given to +Napoleon all the time that should have been necessary for his recovery +from so terrible a defeat. They have nothing in them of the qualities +even of old Blücher, who never was counted a first-class commander. +Forbearance has never ceased to be a virtue with them. Whether their +slackness is of native growth, or is the consequence of instructions +from Government, it is plain that adherence to it can never lead to +the conquest of the Southrons. There is now a particular reason why +it should give way to something of a very different character. The +Proclamation has changed the conditions of the contest, and to be +defeated now, driven out of the field for good and all, would be a far +more mortifying termination of the war than it could have been, if we +had already failed utterly. We have committed the unpardonable sin +against slavery, and to fail now would be to place ourselves in the same +position that is held by the commander of a ship of war who nails his +colors to the mast, and yet has to get them down in order to prevent his +conqueror from annihilating him. The action of the Confederate Congress +with reference to the Proclamation, so far as we have accounts of it, +shows that the President's action has intensified the character of the +conflict, and that the enemy are preparing to fight under the banner of +the pirate, declaring that they will show no quarter, because they +look upon the Proclamation as declaring that there shall be no quarter +extended to them. The President of the United States, they say, has +avowed it to be his purpose to inaugurate a servile war in their +country, and they call fiercely for retaliation. They mean, by using +the words "servile war," to convey the impression that there is to be +a general slaying and ravishing throughout the South, on and after the +first of next January, under the special patronage of the American +President, who has ordered his soldiers and his sailors, his ships and +his corps, to be employed in protecting black ravishers of white women +and black murderers of white children. All they say is mere cant, and +is intended for the European market, which they now supply as liberally +with lies as once they did with cotton. Our foolish foes in England +accept every falsehood that is sent them from Richmond, and hence the +torrent of misrepresentation that flows from that city to London. Let +it continue to flow. It can do us no harm, if our action shall be in +correspondence with our cause and our means. If we succeed, falsehood +cannot injure us; if we fail, we shall have something of more importance +than libels to think of. We should bear in mind that our armies are not +to succeed because the slaves shall rise, but that the slaves are to be +freed as a consequence of the success of our armies. That our armies may +succeed, there must be more energy displayed both by their commanders +and by Government. The Proclamation must be enforced, or it will come to +nought. There is nothing self-enforcing about it. Its mere publication +will no more put an end to the Rebellion than President Lincoln's first +proclamation, calling upon the Rebels to cease their evil-doings and +disperse, could put an end to it. Its future value, like that of all +papers that deal with the leading interests of mankind, must depend +altogether upon the future action of the men from whom it emanates, and +that of their constituents. It stands to-day where the Declaration of +Independence stood for the five years that followed its promulgation, +waiting for its place in human annals to be prepared for it by its +supporters. Of what worth would the Declaration of Independence be now, +had it not been for Trenton and Princeton, Saratoga and Yorktown? Of +no worth at all; and its authors would be looked upon as a band of +sentimental political babblers, who could enunciate truths which neither +they nor their countrymen had the capacity to uphold and practically +to demonstrate. But the Declaration of Independence is one of the +most immortal of papers because it proved a grand success; and it was +successful because the men who put it forth were fully competent to the +grand work with the performance of which they were charged. It is for +Mr. Lincoln himself to say whether the Proclamation of September 22, +1861, shall take rank with the Declaration of July 4, 1776, or with +those evidences of flagrant failure that have become so common since +1789,--with the French Declaration of the Rights of Man, and Mexican +Constitutions. That it is the people's duty to support the President is +said by almost all men; but is it not equally the duty of the President +to support the people? And have they not supported him,--supported him +with men, with money, with the surrender of the enjoyment of some of +their dearest rights, with their full confidence, with good wishes and +better deeds, and with all the rest of the numerous moral and material +means of waging war vigorously and triumphantly? And if they have +done and are doing all this, who will be to blame, if the enemy shall +accomplish their purpose? + +The President and his immediate associates are placed so high by their +talents and their positions that they must be supposed open to the love +of fame, and to desire honorable mention in their country's annals, +especially as they have to do with matters of such transcendent +importance, greater even than those that absorbed the attention of +Washington and Hamilton, of Jefferson and Madison, of Jackson and +Livingston. It is for themselves to decide what shall be said of them +hereafter, and through all future time,--whether they shall be blessed +or banned, cursed or canonized. The judgment that shall be passed upon +them and their work will be given according to the result, and from it +there can be no appeal. The Portuguese have a well-known proverb, that +"the way to hell is paved with good intentions;" but it is not +the laborers on that broad and crowded highway who gain honorable +immortality. The decisions of posterity are not made with reference to +men's motives and intentions, but upon their deeds. With posterity, +success is the proper proof of merit, when nothing necessary to its +winning is denied to the players in the world's great games. Richmond is +worshipped, and Richard detested, not because the former was good and +great, and the latter wicked and weak, for Richard was the better and +the abler man, but for the reason that the decision was in Richmond's +favor on Bosworth Field. The only difference between Catiline and +Caesar, according to an eminent statesman and scholar, is this: Catiline +was crushed by his foes, and Caesar's foes were crushed by him. This +may seem harsh, but we fear that it is only too true,--that it is in +accordance with that irreversible law of the world which makes success +the test of worth in the management of human affairs. If Mr. Lincoln +and his confidential officers would have the highest American places in +after-days as well as to-day, let them win those places by winning the +nation's battle. They can have them on no other terms. That is one of +the conditions of the part they accepted when they took upon themselves +their present posts at the beginning of a period of civil convulsion. If +they fail, they will be doomed to profound contempt. In the words of the +foremost man of all this modern world, uttered at the very crisis of his +own fortunes,--Napoleon I., in the summer of 1813,--"To be judged by the +event is the inexorable law of history." + + + + +HOW TO CHOOSE A RIFLE. + + +_To the Editors of the_ ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +Some thirty years ago, a gentleman who had just returned from Europe was +trying to convey an idea of the size and magnificence of St. Peter's +Church to a New-England country-clergyman, and was somewhat taken aback +by the remark of the good man, that "the Pope must require a very +powerful voice to fill such a building." + +The anecdote has been brought to my mind by the unexpected position in +which I am placed, as the recipient of such a multitude of letters, +and from such widely separated portions of the country, elicited by my +article on Rifle-Clubs in the "Atlantic" for September, that I find +myself called upon to address an audience extending from Maine to +Minnesota. Fortunately for me, however, the columns of the "Atlantic" +afford facilities of communication not enjoyed by the Pope, and through +that medium I crave permission to reply to inquiries which afford most +gratifying proof of the wide-spread interest which is awakened in the +subject. + +Almost every letter contains the inquiry, "What is the new +breech-loading rifle you allude to, and where is it to be had?"--but a +large proportion of them also ask advice as to the selection of a rifle; +and with such evidence of general interest in the inquiry, I have +thought I could not do better than to frame my reply specially to this +point. + +The rifle above alluded to is not yet in the market, and probably will +not be for some time to come. Only three or four samples have been +manufactured, and after being subjected to every possible test short +of actual service in the hands of troops, it has proved so entirely +satisfactory that preparations are now making for its extensive +production. Thus far it is known as the Ashcroft rifle, from the name of +the proprietor, Mr. E.H. Ashcroft of Boston, the persevering energy +of whose efforts to secure its introduction will probably never be +appreciated as it deserves, except perhaps by those who have gone +through the trial of bringing out an idea involving in its conception a +great public benefit. + +Lieutenant Busk, in hid "Hand-Book for Hythe," says, "I cannot imagine a +much more helpless or hopeless position than that of an individual who, +having determined to expend his ten or twenty guineas in the purchase +of a rifle, and, guided only by the light of Nature, applies to +a respectable gun-maker to supply his want. I never hear of an +inexperienced buyer in search of a rifle without being reminded of the +purchaser of a telescope, who, on asking the optician, among a multitude +of other questions, whether he would be able to discern an object +through it four miles off, received for reply, 'See an object _four_ +miles off, Sir? You can see an object four-and-twenty thousand miles +off, Sir,--you can see the moon, Sir!' In like manner, if you naïvely +inquire of a gun-maker whether a particular rifle will carry two hundred +yards, the chances are he will exclaim, emphatically, 'Two hundred +yards, Sir? It will carry fifteen hundred.' And so no doubt it may. The +only question, is, How?" + +The questions which have been addressed to me for a few weeks past have +given me a keen appreciation of the difficulties alluded to, in which +multitudes are at this moment plunged, to whom I shall be but too happy +if it is in my power to extend a helping hand. + +At the outset, however, it is but fair to declare my conviction that +no man who has any just appreciation of the subject would attempt to +_choose_ a gun for another, any more than he would a horse, or, I had +almost said, a wife; but he may lay down certain general rules which +each individual must apply for himself, exercising his own taste in the +details. Thus, I have elsewhere declared my own predilection for Colt's +rifle; and I hold to it notwithstanding a strong prejudice against it +which very generally exists. I do not mean to assert that it is a better +shooter than many others, and still less would I urge any one else to +procure one because I like it, but I simply say that its performance is +equal to my requirements, and that the whole construction and getting-up +of the gun suit my fancy; and the fact that another man dislikes it is +no reason why I should discard it. + +I have known men who were continually changing their guns, and seemed +satisfied only with novelties. With such a taste I have no sympathy, +but, on the contrary, my feeling of attachment to a trusty weapon +strengthens with my familiarity with its merits, till it becomes so near +akin to affection that I should find it hard to part with one which had +served me well, and was associated in my mind with adventures whose +interest was derived from its successful performance. + +The first piece of advice I would offer to a novice in search of a gun +is, "Don't be in a hurry." + +The demand is such that a buyer is constantly urged to close a bargain +by the assurance that it may be his last chance to secure such a weapon +as the one he is examining,--and great numbers of mere toys have thus +been forced upon purchasers, who, if they ever practise enough to +acquire a taste for shooting, will send them to the auction-room, and +make another effort to procure a gun suited to their wants. Several new +patterns of guns have been produced within the last year, some of which +are very attractive in their appearance, and to an inexperienced person +seem to possess sufficient power for any service they may ever be called +upon to perform. They are well finished, compact, light, and pretty. +A Government Inspector, indeed, would be apt to make discoveries of +"malleable iron," which would cause their instant rejection, but which +in reality constitutes no ground of objection to guns whose parts are +not required to be interchangeable. They might be described as "well +adapted for ladies' use, or for boys learning to shoot;" but it gave me +a sickening sense of the inexperience of many a noble-hearted youth who +may have entered the service from the purest motives of patriotism, when +a dealer, who was exhibiting one of these parlor-weapons, with a calibre +no larger than a good-sized pea, informed me that he had sold a great +many to young officers, being so light that they could be carried slung +upon the back almost as easily as a pistol. It is with no such kid-glove +tools as these that so many of our officers have been picked off by +Southern sharp-shooters. At a long range they are useless; at close +quarters, which is the only situation in which an officer actually needs +fire-arms, a revolver is far preferable. I know of no rifle so well +adapted to an officer's use as Colt's carbine,--of eighteen or +twenty-one inch barrel, and not less than 44/100 of an inch calibre. It +may be depended upon for six hundred yards, the short barrel renders +its manipulation easy in a close fight, and the value of the repeating +principle at such a time can be estimated only by that of life. + +In a perfectly calm atmosphere, the light guns I have alluded to will +shoot very well for one or two hundred yards; but no one can conceive, +till he proves it by actual trial, what an amazing difference in +precision is the result of even a very slight increase of weight of +ball, when the air is in motion. Even in a dead calm no satisfactory +shooting can be done beyond two hundred yards with a lighter ball than +half an ounce, and any one who becomes interested in rifle-practice will +soon grow impatient of being confined to short ranges and calm weather. +This brings us, then, to the question of calibre, which I conceive to be +the first one to be decided in selecting a gun, and the decision rests +upon the uses to which the gun is to be applied. If it is wanted merely +for military service, nothing better than the Enfield can be procured; +but if the purchaser proposes to study the niceties of practice, and to +enter into it with a keen zest, he will need a very different style of +gun. A calibre large enough for a round ball of fifty to the pound, or +an elongated shot of about half an ounce, is sufficient for six hundred +yards; and a gun of that calibre, with a thirty-inch barrel, and a +weight of about ten pounds, is better suited to the general wants of +purchasers than any other size. In this part of the country it is by no +means easy to find a place where shooting can be safely practised even +at so long a range as five hundred yards,--which is sixty yards more +than a quarter of a mile. It is always necessary to have an attendant +at the target to point out the shots, and even then the shooter needs +a telescope to distinguish them. For ordinary purposes, therefore, the +calibre I have indicated is all-sufficient; but if a gun is wanted for +shooting up to one thousand yards, the shot should be a full ounce +weight. These are points which each man must determine for himself, and, +having done so, let him go to any gun-maker of established reputation, +and, before giving his order, let him study and compare the different +forms of stocks, till he finds what is required for his peculiar +physical conformation,--and giving directions accordingly, he will +probably secure a weapon whose merits he will not fully appreciate +till he has attained a degree of skill which is the result only of +long-continued practice. + +But never buy a gun, and least of all a rifle, without trying it; and do +not be satisfied with a trial in a shop or shooting gallery, but take it +into the field; and if you distrust yourself, get some one in whom you +have confidence to try it for you. Choose a perfectly calm day. Have a +rest prepared on which not only the gun may be laid, but a support may +also be had for the elbows, the shooter being seated. By this means, and +with the aid of globe- and peek-sights, (which should always be used in +trying a gun,) it may as certainly be held in the same position at every +shot as if it were clamped in a machine. For your target take a sheet of +cartridge-paper and draw on it a circle of a foot, and, inside of that, +another of four inches in diameter. Paint the space between the rings +black, and you will then have a black ring four inches wide surrounding +a white four-inch bull's-eye, against which your globe-sight will be +much more distinctly seen than if it were black. Place the target so +that when shooting you may have the sun on your back. On a very bright +day, brown paper is better for a target than white. Begin shooting +at one hundred yards and fire ten shots, with an exact aim at the +bull's-eye, wiping out the gun after each shot. Do not look to see where +you hit, till you have fired your string of ten shots; for, if you +do, you will be tempted to alter your aim and make allowance for the +variation, whereas your object now is not to hit the bull's-eye, but to +prove the shooting of the gun; and if you find, when you get through, +that all the shots are close together, you may be sure the gun shoots +well, though they may be at considerable distance from the bull's-eye. +That would only prove that the line of sight was not coincident with the +line of fire, which can be easily rectified by moving the forward sight +to the right or left, according as the variation was on the one side +or the other. Having fired your string of ten shots, take a pair of +dividers, and, with a radius equal to half the distance between the two +hits most distant from each other, describe a circle cutting through the +centre of each of those hits. From the centre of this circle measure the +distance to each of the hits, add these distances together and divide +the sum by ten, and you have the average variation, which ought not to +be over two inches at the utmost, and if the gun is what it ought to be, +and fired by a good marksman, would probably be much less. This is a +sufficient test of the precision for that distance, and the same method +may be adopted for longer ranges. But if the gun shoots well at one +hundred yards, its capacity for a longer range may be proved by its +penetrating power. Provide a number of pieces of seasoned white-pine +board, one inch thick and say two feet long by sixteen inches wide. +These are to be secured parallel to each other and one inch apart by +strips nailed firmly to their sides, and must be so placed that when +shot at the balls may strike fairly at a right angle to their face. +Try a number of shots at the distance of one hundred yards, and note +carefully how many boards are penetrated at each shot. The elongated +shots are sometimes turned in passing through a board so as to strike +the next one sideways, which of course increases the resistance very +greatly, and such shots should not be counted; but if you find generally +that the penetration of those which strike fairly is not over six +inches, you may rest assured the gun cannot be relied on, except in +a dead calm, for more than two hundred yards, and with anything of a +breeze you will make no good shooting even at that distance. Nine inches +of penetration is equal to six hundred yards, and twelve inches is good +for a thousand. + +A striking proof of the prevailing ignorance of scientific principles in +rifle-shooting is afforded by the fact that it is still a very common +practice to vary the charge of powder according to the distance to be +shot. The fact is, that beyond a certain point any increase of the +initial velocity of the ball is unfavorable both to range and precision, +owing to the ascertained law that the ratio of increase of atmospheric +resistance is four times that of the velocity, so that, after the point +is reached at which they balance each other, any additional propulsive +power is injurious. The proper charge of powder for any rifle is about +one-seventh the weight of the ball, and the only means which should ever +be adopted for increasing the range is the elevating sight. + +In conclusion, I would impress upon the young rifleman the importance +of always keeping his weapon in perfect order. If you have never looked +through the barrel of a rifle, you can have no conception what a +beautifully finished instrument it is; and when you learn that the +accuracy of its shooting may be affected by a variation of the +thousandth part of an inch on its interior surface, you may appreciate +the necessity of guarding against the intrusion of even a speck of rust. +Never suffer your rifle to be laid aside after use till it has +been thoroughly cleaned,--the barrel wiped first with a wet rag, +(cotton-flannel is best,) then rubbed dry, then well oiled, and then +again wiped with a dry rag. In England this work may be left to a +servant, but with us the servants are so rare to whom such work can be +intrusted that the only safe course is to see to it yourself; and if you +have a true sportsman's love for a gun, you will not find the duty a +disagreeable one. + + * * * * * + + +THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION. + + +In so many arid forms which States incrust themselves with, once in a +century, if so often, a poetic act and record occur. These are the jets +of thought into affairs, when, roused by danger or inspired by genius, +the political leaders of the day break the else insurmountable routine +of class and local legislation, and take a step forward in the direction +of catholic and universal interests. Every step in the history of +political liberty is a sally of the human mind into the untried future, +and has the interest of genius, and is fruitful in heroic anecdotes. +Liberty is a slow fruit. It comes, like religion, for short periods, and +in rare conditions, as if awaiting a culture of the race which shall +make it organic and permanent. Such moments of expansion in modern +history were the Confession of Augsburg, the plantation of America, the +English Commonwealth of 1648, the Declaration of American Independence +in 1776, the British emancipation of slaves in the West Indies, the +passage of the Reform Bill, the repeal of the Corn-Laws, the Magnetic +Ocean-Telegraph, though yet imperfect, the passage of the Homestead +Bill in the last Congress, and now, eminently, President Lincoln's +Proclamation on the twenty-second of September. These are acts of +great scope, working on a long future, and on permanent interests, and +honoring alike those who initiate and those who receive them. These +measures provoke no noisy joy, but are received into a sympathy so deep +as to apprise us that mankind are greater and better than we know. At +such times it appears as if a new public were created to greet the +new event. It is as when an orator, having ended the compliments and +pleasantries with which he conciliated attention, and having run over +the superficial fitness and commodities of the measure he urges, +suddenly, lending himself to some happy inspiration, announces with +vibrating voice the grand human principles involved,--the bravoes and +wits who greeted him loudly thus far are surprised and overawed: a new +audience is found in the heart of the assembly,--an audience hitherto +passive and unconcerned, now at last so searched and kindled that they +come forward, every one a representative of mankind, standing for all +nationalities. + +The extreme moderation with which the President advanced to his +design,--his long-avowed expectant policy, as if he chose to be strictly +the executive of the best public sentiment of the country, waiting only +till it should be unmistakably pronounced,--so fair a mind that none +ever listened so patiently to such extreme varieties of opinion,--so +reticent that his decision has taken all parties by surprise, whilst +yet it is the just sequel of his prior acts,--the firm tone in which he +announces it, without inflation or surplusage,--all these have bespoken +such favor to the act, that, great as the popularity of the President +has been, we are beginning to think that we have underestimated the +capacity and virtue which the Divine Providence has made an instrument +of benefit so vast. He has been permitted to do more for America than +any other American man. He is well entitled to the most indulgent +construction. Forget all that we thought shortcomings, every mistake, +every delay. In the extreme embarrassments of his part, call these +endurance, wisdom, magnanimity, illuminated, as they now are, by this +dazzling success. + +When we consider the immense opposition that has been neutralized or +converted by the progress of the war, (for it is not long since the +President anticipated the resignation of a large number of officers in +the army, and the secession of three States, on the promulgation of this +policy,)--when we see how the great stake which foreign nations hold in +our affairs has recently brought every European power as a client into +this court, and it became every day more apparent what gigantic and +what remote interests were to be affected by the decision of the +President,--one can hardly say the deliberation was too long. Against +all timorous counsels he had the courage to seize the moment; and such +was his position, and such the felicity attending the action, that he +has replaced Government in the good graces of mankind. "Better is virtue +in the sovereign than plenty in the season," say the Chinese. 'Tis +wonderful what power is, and how ill it is used, and how its ill use +makes life mean, and the sunshine dark. Life in America had lost much of +its attraction in the later years. The virtues of a good magistrate undo +a world of mischief, and, because Nature works with rectitude, seem +vastly more potent than the acts of bad governors, which are ever +tempered by the good-nature in the people, and the incessant resistance +which fraud and violence encounter. + +The acts of good governors work at a geometrical ratio, as one midsummer +day seems to repair the damage of a year of war. + +A day which most of us dared not hope to see, an event worth the +dreadful war, worth its costs and uncertainties, seems now to be close +before us. October, November, December will have passed over beating +hearts and plotting brains: then the hour will strike, and all men of +African descent who have faculty enough to find their way to our lines +are assured of the protection of American law. + +It is by no means necessary that this measure should be suddenly marked +by any signal results on the negroes or on the Rebel masters. The force +of the act is that it commits the country to this justice,--that it +compels the innumerable officers, civil, military, naval, of the +Republic to range themselves on the line of this equity. It draws the +fashion to this side. It is not a measure that admits of being taken +back. Done, it cannot be undone by a new Administration. For slavery +overpowers the disgust of the moral sentiment only through immemorial +usage. It cannot be introduced as an improvement of the nineteenth +century. This act makes that the lives of our heroes have not been +sacrificed in vain. It makes a victory of our defeats. Our hurts are +healed; the health of the nation is repaired. With a victory like this, +we can stand many disasters. It does not promise the redemption of the +black race: that lies not with us: but it relieves it of our opposition. +The President by this act has paroled all the slaves in America; they +will no more fight against us; and it relieves our race once for all of +its crime and false position. The first condition of success is secured +in putting ourselves right. We have recovered ourselves from our false +position, and planted ourselves on a law of Nature. + + "If that fail, + The pillared firmament is rottenness, + And earth's base built on stubble." + +The Government has assured itself of the best constituency in the world: +every spark of intellect, every virtuous feeling, every religious heart, +every man of honor, every poet, every philosopher, the generosity of the +cities, the health of the country, the strong arms of the mechanics, the +endurance of farmers, the passionate conscience of women, the sympathy +of distant nations,--all rally to its support. Of course, we are +assuming the firmness of the policy thus declared. It must not be a +paper proclamation. We confide that Mr. Lincoln is in earnest, and, as +he has been slow in making up his mind, has resisted the importunacy of +parties and of events to the latest moment, he will be as absolute in +his adhesion. Not only will he repeat and follow up his stroke, but the +nation will add its irresistible strength. If the ruler has duties, so +has the citizen. In times like these, when the nation is imperilled, +what man can, without shame, receive good news from day to day, without +giving good news of himself? What right has any one to read in the +journals tidings of victories, if he has not bought them by his own +valor, treasure, personal sacrifice, or by service as good in his own +department? With this blot removed from our national honor, this heavy +load lifted off the national heart, we shall not fear henceforward +to show our faces among mankind. We shall cease to be hypocrites and +pretenders, but what we have styled our free institutions will be such. + +In the light of this event the public distress begins to be removed. +What if the brokers' quotations show our stocks discredited, and the +gold dollar costs one hundred and twenty-seven cents? These tables are +fallacious. Every acre in the Free States gained substantial value on +the twenty-second of September. The cause of disunion and war has been +reached, and begun to be removed. Every man's house-lot and garden +are relieved of the malaria which the purest winds and the strongest +sunshine could not penetrate and purge. The territory of the Union +shines to-day with a lustre which every European emigrant can discern +from far: a sign of inmost security and permanence. Is it feared that +taxes will check immigration? That depends on what the taxes are spent +for. If they go to fill up this yawning Dismal Swamp, which engulfed +armies and populations, and created plague, and neutralized hitherto +all the vast capabilities of this continent,--then this taxation, which +makes the land wholesome and habitable, and will draw all men unto +it, is the best investment in which property-holder ever lodged his +earnings. + +Whilst we have pointed out the opportuneness of the Proclamation, it +remains to be said that the President had no choice. He might look +wistfully for what variety of courses lay open to him: every line but +one was closed up with fire. This one, too, bristled with danger, +but through it was the sole safety. The measure he has adopted was +imperative. It is wonderful to see the unseasonable senility of what is +called the Peace party, through all its masks, blinding their eyes to +the main feature of the war, namely, its inevitableness. The war existed +long before the cannonade of Sumter, and could not be postponed. It +might have begun otherwise or elsewhere, but war was in the minds and +bones of the combatants, it was written on the iron leaf, and you +might as easily dodge gravitation. If we had consented to a peaceable +secession of the Rebels, the divided sentiment of the Border States made +peaceable secession impossible, the insatiable temper of the South made +it impossible, and the slaves on the border, wherever the border might +be, were an incessant fuel to rekindle the fire. Give the Confederacy +New Orleans, Charleston, and Richmond, and they would have demanded St. +Louis and Baltimore. Give them these, and they would have insisted on +Washington. Give them Washington, and they would have assumed the army +and navy, and, through these, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. It +looks as if the battle-field would have been at least as large in that +event as it is now. The war was formidable, but could not be avoided. +The war was and is an immense mischief, but brought with it the immense +benefit of drawing a line, and rallying the Free States to fix it +impassably,--preventing the whole force of Southern connection and +influence throughout the North from distracting every city with endless +confusion, detaching that force and reducing it to handfuls, and, in the +progress of hostilities, disinfecting us of our habitual proclivity, +through the affection of trade, and the traditions of the Democratic +party, to follow Southern leading. + +These necessities which have dictated the conduct of the Federal +Government are overlooked, especially by our foreign critics. +The popular statement of the opponents of the war abroad is the +impossibility of our success. "If you could add," say they, "to your +strength the whole army of England, of France, and of Austria, you +could not coerce eight millions of people to come under this Government +against their will." This is an odd thing for an Englishman, a +Frenchman, or an Austrian to say, who remembers the Europe of the last +seventy years,--the condition of Italy, until 1859,--of Poland, since +1793,--of France, of French Algiers,--of British Ireland, and British +India. But, granting the truth, rightly read, of the historical +aphorism, that "the people always conquer," it is to be noted, that, +in the Southern States, the tenure of land, and the local laws, with +slavery, give the social system not a democratic, but an aristocratic +complexion; and those States have shown every year a more hostile and +aggressive temper, until the instinct of self-preservation forced us +into the war. And the aim of the war on our part is indicated by the +aim of the President's Proclamation, namely, to break up the false +combination of Southern society, to destroy the piratic feature in it +which makes it our enemy only as it is the enemy of the human race, and +so allow its reconstruction on a just and healthful basis. Then new +affinities will act, the old repulsions will cease, and, the cause +of war being removed, Nature and trade may be trusted to establish a +lasting peace. + +We think we cannot overstate the wisdom and benefit of this act of the +Government. The malignant cry of the Secession press within the Free +States, and the recent action of the Confederate Congress, are decisive +as to its efficiency and correctness of aim. Not less so is the silent +joy which has greeted it in all generous hearts, and the new hope it has +breathed into the world. + +It was well to delay the steamers at the wharves, until this edict could +be put on board. It will be an insurance to the ship as it goes plunging +through the sea with glad tidings to all people. Happy are the young who +find the pestilence cleansed out of the earth, leaving open to them +an honest career. Happy the old, who see Nature purified before they +depart. Do not let the dying die: hold them back to this world, until +you have charged their ear and heart with this message to other +spiritual societies, announcing the melioration of our planet. + + "Incertainties now crown themselves assured, + And Peace proclaims olives of endless age." + +Meantime that ill-fated, much-injured race which the Proclamation +respects will lose somewhat of the dejection sculptured for ages in +their bronzed countenance, uttered in the wailing of their plaintive +music,--a race naturally benevolent, joyous, docile, industrious, and +whose very miseries sprang from their great talent for usefulness, +which, in a more moral age, will not only defend their independence, but +will give them a rank among nations. + + * * * * * + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_History of Friedrich the Second, called Frederick the Great._ By THOMAS +CARLYLE. In Four Volumes. Vol. III. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1862. + +Although History flows in a channel never quite literally dry, and for +certain purposes a continuous chronicle of its current is desirable, +it is only in rare reaches, wherein it meets formidable obstacles to +progress, that it becomes grand and impressive; and even in such cases +the interest deepens immeasurably, when some master-spirit arises to +direct its energies. The period of Frederick the Great was not one of +these remarkable passages. It was marked, however, with the signs that +precede such. Europe lay weltering and tossing in seemingly aimless +agitation, yet in real birth-throes; and the issue was momentous and +memorable, namely: The People. From the hour in which they emerged from +the darkness of the French Revolution, they have so absorbed attention +that men have had little opportunity to look into the causes which +forced them to the front, and made wiser leadership thenceforth +indispensable to peaceful rule. The field, too, was repulsive with the +appearance of nearly a waste place, save only that Frederick the Second +won the surname of "Great" by his action thereon. And it may be justly +averred that only to reveal his life, and perhaps that of one other, was +it worthy of resuscitation. To do this was an appalling labor, for the +skeleton thereof was scattered through the crypts of many kingdoms; yet, +by the commanding genius of Mr. Carlyle, bone hath not only come to +his bone, but they have been clothed with flesh and blood, so that the +captains of the age, and, moreover, the masses, as they appeared in +their blind tusslings, are restored to sight with the freshness +and fulness of Nature. Although this historical review is strictly +illustrative, it is altogether incomparable for vividness and +originality of presentation. The treatment of official personages is +startlingly new. All ceremony toward them gives place to a fearful +familiarity, as of one who not only sees through and through them, but +oversees. Grave Emptiness and strutting Vanity, found in high places, +are mocked with immortal mimicry. Indeed, those of the "wind-bag" +species generally, wherever they appear in important affairs, are so +admirably exposed, that we see how they inevitably lead States to +disaster and leave them ruins, while their pompous and feeble methods of +doing it are so put as to call forth the contemptuous smiles, yea, the +derisive laughter, of all coming generations. In fine, the alternate +light and shade, which so change the aspect and make the mood of human +nature, were never so touched in before; and therefore it is the saddest +and the merriest story ever told. + +In bold and splendid contrast with this picture of national life flow +the life and fortunes of Frederick. If the qualities of his progenitors +prophesied this right royal course, his portrait, by Pesne, shows him +to have been conceived in some happy moment when Nature was in her most +generous mood. What finish of form and feature! and what apparent power +to win! Yet in what serene depths it rests, to be aroused only by some +superb challenger! No strength of thought or stress of situation seems +to have had power to line the curves of beauty. Observe, too, the +full-blown mouth, which never saw cause to set itself in order to form +or fortify a purpose. When it is remembered that in opening manhood this +prince was long imprisoned under sentence of death for attempting to +escape from paternal tyranny, and that his friend actually died on the +gallows merely for generous complicity in this offence against the state +of a king, and that neither of the terrible facts left permanent trace +on his countenance or cloud on his spirit, it should create no surprise +that nothing but the march of time was ever visible there. Though +trained in such a school, and in the twenty-eighth year of his age when +he reached the throne, he yet gave a whole and a full heart to his +subjects, and sought to guide them solely for their good. From this +purpose he never swerved; and though his somewhat too trustful methods +were rapidly changed by stern experience, his people felt more and more +the consummate wisdom of his guidance, and they became unconquerable +by that truth and that faith. Almost on the first day of his reign, he +invited Voltaire, the greatest of literary heroes, the most adroit and +successful assaulter of king-craft and priest-craft that ever lived, to +his capital and to his palace; and in a most friendly spirit consulted +him on the advancement of art and letters, exhausted him by the +touchstone of superior capacity, and even fathomed him by a glance +so keen and so covert that it always took, but never gave, and then +complimented him home in so masterly a manner that he was lured into the +fond belief that he had found a disciple. A mind so capacious and so +reticent is always an enigma to near observers. Hence it is that the +transcendently great may be more truly known to after-ages than to +any contemporary. By the patient research and profound insight of Mr. +Carlyle, Frederick the Great is thus rising into clear and perennial +light. What deserts of dust he wrought in, and what a jungle of false +growths he had to clear away, Dryasdust and Smelfungus mournfully hint +and indignantly moralize,--under such significant names does this new +Rhadamanthus reveal the real sins of mankind, and deliver them over to +the judgment of their peers. Frederick, indeed, is among them, but not +of them. The way in which he is made to come forth from the mountains of +smoke and cinders remaining of his times is absolutely marvellous. As +some mighty and mysterious necromancer quickens the morbid imagination +to supernatural sight, and for a brief moment reveals through rolling +mist and portentous cloud the perfect likeness of the one longed for +by the rapt gazer, so Frederick is restored in this biography for +the perpetual consolation and admiration of all coming heroes. In +comprehension and judgment of the actions and hearts of men, and in +vividness of writing, not that which shook the soul of Belshazzar in the +midst of his revellers was more powerful, or more sure of approval and +fulfilment. It is not only one of the greatest of histories and of +biographies, but nothing in literature, from any other pen, bears any +likeness to it. It is truly a solitary work,--the effort of a vast and +lonely nature to find a meet companion among the departed. + + +1. _The Rejected Stone; or, Insurrection vs. Resurrection in America._ +By a Native of Virginia. Second Edition. Boston: Walker, Wise, & Co. +1862. + +2. _The Golden Hour._ By MONCURE D. CONWAY, Author of "The Rejected +Stone." _Impera parendo._ Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1862. + +Seldom have political writings found such accomplices in events as +these, whose final criticism appears in the great Proclamation of the +President. Two campaigns have been the bloody partisans of this earnest +pen: the impending one will cheerfully undertake its final vindication. +Not because these two little books stand sole and preëminent, the +isolated prophecies of an all but rejected truth, nor because they have +created the opinion out of which the President gathers breath for his +glorious words. Mr. Conway would hardly claim more, we think, than to +have spoken frankly what the people felt, the same people which hailed +the early emancipationing instinct of General Fremont. We see the fine +sense of Mr. Emerson in his advice to hitch our wagon to a star, but +there must be a well-seasoned vehicle, with a cunning driver to thrust +his pin through the coupling, one not apt to jump out when the axles +begin to smoke. + +At the first overt act of this great Rebellion, anti-slavery men +perceived the absurdity of resisting a symptom instead of attacking the +disease. They proclaimed the old-fashioned truth, that an eruption can +be rubbed back again into the system, not only without rubbing out +its cause, but at the greatest hazard to the system, which is loudly +announcing its difficulty in this cutaneous fashion. But Northern +politicians saw that the inflammatory blotches made the face of the +country ugly and repulsive: their costliest preparations have been well +rubbed in ever since, without even yet reducing the rebellious red; +on the contrary, it flamed out more vigorously than ever. Their old +practice was not abandoned, the medicines only were changed. The wash +of compromise was replaced by the bath of blood. And into that dreadful +color the tears and agony of a million souls have been distilled, as if +they would make a mixture powerful enough to draw out all our trouble +by the pores. The very skin of the Rebellion chafed and burned more +fiercely with all this quackery. + +If Slavery is our disease, the Abolition of Slavery is our remedy. Our +bayonets only cupped and scored the patient, our war-measures in and out +of Congress only worked dynamically against other war-measures far more +dogged and desperate than our own. The sentence of Emancipation is the +specific whose operation will be vital, by effecting an alteration in +the system, and soon annihilating that condition of the blood which +feeds our fevers and rushes in disgusting blotches to the face. "No,"--a +Northern minority still says,--"every fever has its term; only watch +your self-limiting disease, keep the patient from getting too much hurt +during his delirium, and he will be on 'Change before long." + +No doubt of that. He loves to be on 'Change; of all the places in the +country, out of his own patriarchal neighborhoods, not even Saratoga +and Newport were ever so exhilarating to him as Wall Street and State +Street, and he longs to be well enough to infest his whilom haunts. +Slavery is a self-limited disease, for it suffers nothing but itself to +impose its limits. In that sense the North would soon have his old crony +on the pavement again, with one yellow finger in his button-hole, and +another nervously playing at a trigger behind the back. For the North +was paying roundly in men and dollars to renew that pleasurable +intercourse, to get the dear old soul out again as little dilapidated as +possible, with as much of the old immunities and elasticities preserved +as an attack so violent would allow. + +The President said to the deputation of Quakers, "Where the Constitution +cannot yet go, a proclamation cannot." This was accepted by a portion of +the North as another compact expression of Presidential wisdom. It was +the common sense, curtly and neatly put, upon which our armies waited, +and for whose cold and bleached utterances our glorious young men were +sent home from Washington by rail in coffins, red receipts of Slavery to +acknowledge Northern indecision. It was the kind of common sense which, +after every family-tomb has got its tenant, and wives, mothers, sisters +tears to be their bread and meat continually, would have jogged on +'Change snugly some fine morning arm in arm with the murderer of their +noble dead. + +For, though neither the Constitution nor a proclamation can quite yet go +down practically into Slavery, Slavery might come up here to find the +Constitution in its old place at the Potomac ferry, and without a toll +or pike to heed. + +It seemed so sensible to say, that, where one document cannot go, +another cannot! And yet it depends upon what is in the document. If the +Constitution _could_ go South now, it would be the last thing we should +want to send, at this stage of the national malady. It contains the +immunity out of which the malady has flamed. Its very neutrality is the +best protection which a conquered South could have, and a moral triumph +that would richly compensate it for a military defeat. Would it not have +been quite as sagacious, and equally aphoristic, if the President had +said, "Where a proclamation cannot go, the Constitution never can +again"? He has said it! And if the proclamation goes first, the +Constitution will follow to bless and to save. + +Both of these little books of Mr. Conway are devoted to showing the +necessity for a proclamation of emancipation, as simple justice, as +military policy, as mercy to the South, to put us right at home and +abroad, to destroy at once the cause of the Republic's shame and sorrow. +He combats various objections: such as that a proclamation of that +nature would send home instantly the pro-slavery officers and men who +are now fighting merely to enhance their own importance or to restore +the state of things before the war: that a proclamation of emancipation, +finding its way, as it surely would, to the heart of every slave, would +breed insurrections and all the horrors of a servile war: that such +a document would not be worth the paper which it blotted, until the +military power of the South was definitively broken: that it would +convert the Border States into active foes, and make them rush by +natural proclivity into the bosom of Secession. Mr. Conway disposes well +of a great deal of trash which even good Republican papers, upon which +we have hitherto relied, but can do so no longer, have vented under all +these heads of objections. + +He writes with such enthusiasm, and is so plainly a dear lover and +worshipper of the justice which can alone exalt this nation, that we are +carried clear over the wretched half-republicanism which has been trying +all the year to say eminently sound and unexceptionable things, we +forget the deceit and expediency whose leaded columns have been more +formidable than those which rolled the tide of war back again to the +Potomac. Great is the animating power of faith, when faithfully brought +home to the universal instinct for righteousness. Mr. Conway was born +and bred among slaveholders, knows them and their institution, knows +the slave, and his moral condition, and his expectations: so that these +inspiriting prophecies of his are more than those of a lively and +talented pamphleteer. + +His earnest purpose in writing lifts us pretty well over some things in +his style which seem to us discordant with his glorious theme. He has +a way, as good as the President's, to whom much of his matter is +addressed, of making his apologues and stories tell; they are apt, and +give the reader the sensation of being clinched. One feels like a nail +when it catches the board. But sometimes the transition to a grotesque +allusion from a fine touch of fancy or from the inbred religiousness +of the subject is abrupt. Jean Paul may offer you, in his most glowing +page, a quid of tobacco, if he pleases; the shock is picturesque, and +sometimes lets in a deep analogy. But the hour in which Mr. Conway +writes, the height of faith from which his pen stoops to the mortal +page, the unspeakable solemnity of the theme, which our volunteers are +rudely striving to trace upon their country's bosom with their blood, +and our women are steeping in their tears, ought to drive all flippancy +shuddering from the lines in which sarcasm itself should be measured and +awful as the deaths which gird us round. + +But the two volumes are full of power and feeling. They are written +so that all may read. Their effect is popular, without stooping +deliberately to become so. They are among the brightest and simplest +pages which this exciting period has produced. It would be a great +mistake to gauge their effect by what they bring to pass in the minds of +cabinet-officers, editors, and party-leaders: for they put into plain, +stout language the growing instinct of the people to get at the cause of +the war which lays them waste. + +Some of the most effective pages in these volumes are those which lament +the dread alternative of war, and which show that emancipation would be +merciful to all classes at the South. It is no paradox that to free the +slaves to-morrow would restore health to the South and regenerate its +people. + +And we are glad that Mr. Conway speaks so emphatically against that +measure of colonization, whether the proposition be to deport the +contrabands to Hayti, or to tote them away to Central America under the +leadership of intelligent colored representatives of the North. All +these are plans which look to the eventual removal of the only men +at the South who know how to labor, and who are now the only +representatives there of the country's industrial ideas. We pray you, +Mr. President, to use the money voted for colonizing purposes to rid the +country of the men in the Border and Cotton States who cannot or will +not work, slave-owners and bushwhackers, who kill and harry, but who +never did an honest stroke of work in their lives, and whom, with or +without slavery, this Republic will have to support. Take some Pacific +Island for a great Alms-House, and inaugurate an exodus of the genuine +Southern pauper; he is only an incumbrance to the industrious and +humble-minded blacks, from whose toil the country may draw the staples +of free sugar and free cotton, raised upon the soil which is theirs by +the holy prescription of blood and sorrow. "If it were not for your +presence in the country," says the President to the colored men, "we +should have no war!" If it were not for silverware and jewelry, no +burglaries would be committed! Don't let us get rid of the villains, but +of the victims; thereby villainy will cease! + +Let Mr. Pomeroy be sent to annex some of the Paumotu or Tongan groups, +where spontaneous bread-fruit would afford Mr. Floyd good plucking, and +Messrs. Wigfall, Benjamin, and Prior could even have their chewing done +by proxy, for the native pauper employs the old women to masticate his +Ava into drink. There they might continue to take their food from other +people's mouths, with the chance now and then of a strong anti-slavery +clergyman well barbecued, a luxury for which they have howled for many a +year. That is the place for your oligarchic pauper, where the elements +themselves are field-hands, with Nature for overseer, manufactures +superfluous and free-trade a blessing, and plenty of colored persons to +raise the mischief with. That is the sole crop which they have raised at +home. Let their propensities be transferred to a place unconnected with +the politics or the privileges of a Christian Republic. + +But let this great Republic drive into exile the wheat-growers of the +West, the miners and iron-men of Pennsylvania, and the farmers of New +England, as soon as these men who have created the cotton-crop which +clothes a world, and who only wait for another stimulus to supersede the +lash. Let them find it, as in Jamaica, in a plot of ground, their seed +and tools, their hearth-side and marriage, their freedom, and the +shelter of a country which wants to use the products of their hands. + +If it be an object to stretch a great band of free tropical labor across +Central America, to people those wastes with ideas which shall curb +the southward lust of men, and nourish a grateful empire against the +intrigues of European States, let that be done, if the colored American +of the Border States is willing to advance the project. Let the project +be clearly understood, and its prospective upholders frankly invited to +become men, and aid their country's welfare. But never let colonization +be opened like an artery, through whose "unkindest cut" some of the best +blood of the country shall slip away and be lost forever. We want the +cotton labor even more extensively diffused, to conquer John Bull with +bales, as at New Orleans. Let no cotton-grower ever budge. + + +_The Life and Letters of Washington Irving._ By his Nephew, PIERRE M. +IRVING. Vols. I and II. New York: G.P. Putnam. + +If to be loved and admired by all, to have troops of personal friends, +to enjoy a literary reputation wide in extent and high in degree, to +be as little stung by envy and detraction as the lot of humanity will +permit, to secure material prosperity with only occasional interruptions +and intermissions, make up the elements of a happy life, then that of +Washington Irving must be pronounced one of the most fortunate in the +annals of literature. It is but repeating a trite remark to say that +happiness depends more upon organization than upon circumstances, more +upon what we are than upon what we have. Saint-Simon said of the Duke of +Burgundy, father of Louis XV., that he was born terrible: it certainly +may be said of Washington Irving that he was born happy. Some men +are born unhappy: that is, they are born with elements of character, +peculiarities of temperament, which generate discontent under all +conditions of life. Their joints are not lubricated by oil, but fretted +by sand. The contemporaries of Shakspeare, who for the most part had +little comprehension of his unrivalled genius, expressed their sense +of his personal qualities by the epithet gentle, which was generally +applied to him,--a word which meant rather more then than it does now, +comprising sweetness, courtesy, and kindliness. No one word could +better designate the leading characteristics of Irving's nature and +temperament. No man was ever more worthy to bear "the grand old name +of gentleman," alike in the essentials of manliness, tenderness, and +purity, and in the external accomplishment of manners so winning and +cordial that they charmed alike men, women, and children. He had the +delicacy of organization which is essential to literary genius, but it +stopped short of sickliness or irritability. He was sensitive to beauty +in all its forms, but was never made unhappy or annoyed by the shadows +in the picture of life. He had a happy power of escaping from everything +that was distasteful, uncomfortable, and unlovely, and dwelling in +regions of sunshine and bloom. His temperament was not impassioned; and +this, though it may have impaired somewhat the force of his genius, +contributed much to his enjoyment of life. Considering that he was an +American born, and that his youth and early manhood were passed in a +period of bitter and virulent political strife, it is remarkable how +free his writings are from the elements of conflict and opposition. He +never put any vinegar into his ink. He seems to have been absolutely +without the capacity of hating any living thing. He was a literary +artist; and the productions of his pen address themselves to the +universal and unpartisan sympathies of mankind as much as paintings +or statues. His "Rip Van Winkle" and "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" are +pictures, in which we find combined the handling of Teniers, the +refinement of Stothard, and the coloring of Gainsborough. + +Fortunate in so many other things, Irving may also be pronounced +fortunate in his biographer, whom he himself designated for the trust. +His nephew has performed his labor of love in a manner which will +satisfy all but those who read a book mainly for the purpose of finding +fault with it. In his brief and tasteful preface he says: "In the +delicate office of sifting, selecting, and arranging these different +materials, extending through a period of nearly sixty years, it has +been my aim to make the author, in every stage of his career, as far as +possible, his own biographer, conscious that I shall in this way best +fulfil the duty devolved upon me, and give to the world the truest +picture of his life and character." To this purpose Mr. Pierre M. +Irving has adhered with uniform consistency. He makes his uncle his own +biographer. To borrow a happy illustration which we found in a newspaper +a few days since, his own portion of the book is like the crystal of +a watch, through which we see the hands upon the face as through +transparent air. And luckily he found ample materials in his uncle's +papers and records. Washington Irving was not bred to any profession, +and had a fixed aversion, not characteristic of his countrymen, for +regular business-occupation; his literary industry was fitful, and not +continuous: but he seems to have been fond of the occupation of writing, +and spent upon his diaries and in his correspondence a great many hours, +which he could hardly have done, if he had been a lawyer, a doctor, or +even a merchant, in active employment. His warm family-affections, too, +his strong love for his brothers and sisters, from most of whom he was +for many years separated, were a constant incitement to the writing of +letters, those invisible wires that keep up the communication between +parted hearts. For all these peculiarities of nature, for all these +accidents of fortune, we have reason to be grateful, since from these +his biographer has found ample materials for constructing the fabric of +his life from the foundation. + +Many of Irving's letters, especially in the second volume, are long and +elaborate productions, which read like chapters from a book of travels, +or like essays, and yet do not on that account lose the peculiar charm +which we demand in such productions. They are perfectly natural in tone +and feeling, though evidently written with some care. They are not in +the least artificial, and yet not careless or hasty. They have all that +easy and graceful flow, that transparent narrative, that unconscious +charm, which we find in his published writings; and we not unfrequently +discern gleams and touches of that exquisite humor which was the best +gift bestowed upon his mind. Brief as our notice is, we cannot refrain +from quoting in illustration of our remark a few sentences from a letter +to Thomas Moore, written in 1824:-- + +"I went a few evenings since to see Kenney's new piece, 'The Alcaid.' It +went off lamely, and the Alcaid is rather a bore, and comes near to be +generally thought so. Poor Kenney came to my room next evening, and +I could not have believed that one night could have ruined a man so +completely. I swear to you I thought at first it was a flimsy suit of +clothes had left some bedside and walked into my room without waiting +for the owner to get up, or that it was one of those frames on which +clothiers stretch coats at their shop-doors, until I perceived _a thin +face, sticking edgeways out of the collar of the coat like the axe in +a bundle of fasces._ He was so thin, and pale, and nervous, and +exhausted,--he made a dozen difficulties in getting over a spot in the +carpet, and never would have accomplished it, if he had not lifted +himself over by the points of his shirt-collar." + +The illustration we have Italicized is rather wit than humor; but be it +as it may, it is capital; and the whole paragraph has that quaint and +grotesque exaggeration which reminds us of the village-tailor in "The +Sketch-Book," "who played on the clarionet, and seemed to have blown his +face to a point," or of Mud Sam, who "knew all the fish in the river by +their Christian names." + +We think no one can read these volumes without having a higher +impression of Washington Irving as a man. There was no inconsistency +between the author and the man. The tenderness, the purity of feeling, +the sensibility, which gave his works an entrance into so many hearts, +had their source in his mind and character. It is a very truthful record +that we have before us. The delineation is that of a man certainly not +without touches of human infirmity, but as certainly largely endowed +with virtues as well as with gifts and graces. It is very evident that +it is a truthful biography, and that the hand of faithful affection has +found nothing to suppress or conceal. When we have laid down the book, +we feel that we know the man. And we can understand why it was that he +was so loved. Enemies, it seems, he had, or at least ill-wishers; since +we learn--and it is one of the indications of his soft and sensitive +nature--that he was seriously annoyed by a persecutor who persistently +inclosed and forwarded to him every scrap of unfavorable criticism he +could find in the newspapers: but the feeling that inspired this piece +of ill-nature must have been envy, and not hatred,--the bitterness which +is awakened in some unhappy tempers by the success which they cannot +themselves attain. No man less deserved to be hated than Irving, for no +man was less willing himself to give heart-room to hatred. + +We need hardly add that these volumes--of which the larger part is +by Irving himself--are very entertaining, and that we read them from +beginning to end with unflagging interest. Sketches of society and +manners, personal anecdotes, descriptions of scenery, buildings, and +works of art, give animation and variety to the narrative. The whole is +suffused with a golden glow of cheerfulness, the effluence of a nature +very happy, yet never needing the sting of riot or craving the flush of +excess, and finding its happiness in those pure fountains that refresh, +but not intoxicate. + +The close of the second volume brings us down to the year 1832, and his +cordial reception by his friends and countrymen after an absence of +seventeen years; so that more good things are in store for us. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, +November, 1862, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, NO. 61 *** + +***** This file should be named 11158-8.txt or 11158-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/5/11158/ + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11158-8.zip b/old/11158-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e7fa59 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11158-8.zip diff --git a/old/11158.txt b/old/11158.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb13b85 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11158.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9758 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, +November, 1862, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, November, 1862 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 19, 2004 [EBook #11158] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, NO. 61 *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +THE + +ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. X.--NOVEMBER, 1862.--NO. LXI. + + + + +WILD APPLES. + + +THE HISTORY OF THE APPLE-TREE. + + +It is remarkable how closely the history of the Apple-tree is connected +with that of man. The geologist tells us that the order of the +_Rosaceae_, which includes the Apple, also the true Grasses, and the +_Labiatae_, or Mints, were introduced only a short time previous to the +appearance of man on the globe. + +It appears that apples made a part of the food of that unknown primitive +people whose traces have lately been found at the bottom of the Swiss +lakes, supposed to be older than the foundation of Rome, so old that +they had no metallic implements. An entire black and shrivelled +Crab-Apple has been recovered from their stores. + +Tacitus says of the ancient Germans, that they satisfied their hunger +with wild apples (_agrestia poma_) among other things. + +Niebuhr observes that "the words for a house, a field, a plough, +ploughing, wine, oil, milk, sheep, apples, and others relating to +agriculture and the gentler way of life, agree in Latin and Greek, while +the Latin words for all objects pertaining to war or the chase are +utterly alien from the Greek." Thus the apple-tree may be considered a +symbol of peace no less than the olive. + +The apple was early so important, and generally distributed, that its +name traced to its root in many languages signifies fruit in general. +[Greek: Maelon], in Greek, means an apple, also the fruit of other +trees, also a sheep and any cattle, and finally riches in general. + +The apple-tree has been celebrated by the Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and +Scandinavians. Some have thought that the first human pair were tempted +by its fruit. Goddesses are fabled to have contended for it, dragons +were set to watch it, and heroes were employed to pluck it. + +The tree is mentioned in at least three places in the Old Testament, +and its fruit in two or three more. Solomon sings,--"As the apple-tree +among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." And +again,--"Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples." The noblest part +of man's noblest feature is named from this fruit, "the apple of the +eye." + +The apple-tree is also mentioned by Homer and Herodotus. Ulysses saw in +the glorious garden of Alcinoues "pears and pomegranates, and apple-trees +bearing beautiful fruit" ([Greek: kahi maeleai aglaokarpoi]). And +according to Homer, apples were among the fruits which Tantalus +could not pluck, the wind ever blowing their boughs away from him. +Theophrastus knew and described the apple-tree as a botanist. + +According to the Prose Edda, "Iduna keeps in a box the apples which +the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of +to become young again. It is in this manner that they will be kept in +renovated youth until Ragnaroek" (or the destruction of the gods). + +I learn from Loudon that "the ancient Welsh bards were rewarded for +excelling in song by the token of the apple-spray;" and "in the +Highlands of Scotland the apple-tree is the badge of the clan Lamont." + +The apple-tree (_Pyrus malus_) belongs chiefly to the northern temperate +zone. Loudon says, that "it grows spontaneously in every part of Europe +except the frigid zone, and throughout Western Asia, China, and Japan." +We have also two or three varieties of the apple indigenous in North +America. The cultivated apple-tree was first introduced into this +country by the earliest settlers, and it is thought to do as well or +better here than anywhere else. Probably some of the varieties which are +now cultivated were first introduced into Britain by the Romans. + +Pliny, adopting the distinction of Theophrastus, says,--"Of trees there +are some which are altogether wild (_sylvestres_), some more civilized +(_urbaniores_)." Theophrastus includes the apple among the last; and, +indeed, it is in this sense the most civilized of all trees. It is as +harmless as a dove, as beautiful as a rose, and as valuable as flocks +and herds. It has been longer cultivated than any other, and so is more +humanized; and who knows but, like the dog, it will at length be no +longer traceable to its wild original? It migrates with man, like the +dog and horse and cow: first, perchance, from Greece to Italy, thence to +England, thence to America; and our Western emigrant is still marching +steadily toward the setting sun with the seeds of the apple in his +pocket, or perhaps a few young trees strapped to his load. At least a +million apple-trees are thus set farther westward this year than any +cultivated ones grew last year. Consider how the Blossom-Week, like the +Sabbath, is thus annually spreading over the prairies; for when man +migrates, he carries with him not only his birds, quadrupeds, insects, +vegetables, and his very sward, but his orchard also. + +The leaves and tender twigs are an agreeable food to many domestic +animals, as the cow, horse, sheep, and goat; and the fruit is sought +after by the first, as well as by the hog. Thus there appears to have +existed a natural alliance between these animals and this tree from the +first. "The fruit of the Crab in the forests of France" is said to be "a +great resource for the wild-boar." + +Not only the Indian, but many indigenous insects, birds, and quadrupeds, +welcomed the apple-tree to these shores. The tent-caterpillar saddled +her eggs on the very first twig that was formed, and it has since shared +her affections with the wild cherry; and the canker-worm also in +a measure abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it grew apace, the +blue-bird, robin, cherry-bird, king-bird, and many more, came with +haste and built their nests and warbled in its boughs, and so became +orchard-birds, and multiplied more than ever. It was an era in the +history of their race. The downy woodpecker found such a savory morsel +under its bark, that he perforated it in a ring quite round the tree, +before he left it,--a thing which he had never done before, to my +knowledge. It did not take the partridge long to find out how sweet its +buds were, and every winter eve she flew, and still flies, from the +wood, to pluck them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too, was +not slow to learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the fruit +was ripe, the squirrel half-rolled, half-carried it to his hole; and +even the musquash crept up the bank from the brook at evening, and +greedily devoured it, until he had worn a path in the grass there; and +when it was frozen and thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste +it occasionally. The owl crept into the first apple-tree that became +hollow, and fairly hooted with delight, finding it just the place for +him; so, settling down into it, he has remained there ever since. + +My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the +seasons in the annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to my +special province. + +The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree's, +so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is +frequently tempted to turn and linger near some more than usually +handsome one, whose blossoms are two-thirds expanded. How superior it is +in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither colored nor +fragrant! + +By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of +coddling, and of the autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with little +ones which fall still-born, as it were,--Nature thus thinning them for +us. The Roman writer Palladius said,--"If apples are inclined to fall +before their time, a stone placed in a split root will retain them." +Some such notion, still surviving, may account for some of the stones +which we see placed to be overgrown in the forks of trees. They have a +saying in Suffolk, England,-- + + "At Michaelmas time, or a little before, + Half an apple goes to the core." + +Early apples begin to be ripe about the first of August; but I think +that none of them are so good to eat as some to smell. One is worth more +to scent your handkerchief with than any perfume which they sell in the +shops. The fragrance of some fruits is not to be forgotten, along with +that of flowers. Some gnarly apple which I pick up in the road reminds +me by its fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona,--carrying me forward to +those days when they will be collected in golden and ruddy heaps in the +orchards and about the cider-mills. + +A week or two later, as you are going by orchards or gardens, especially +in the evenings, you pass through a little region possessed by the +fragrance of ripe apples, and thus enjoy them without price, and without +robbing anybody. + +There is thus about all natural products a certain volatile and ethereal +quality which represents their highest value, and which cannot be +vulgarized, or bought and sold. No mortal has ever enjoyed the perfect +flavor of any fruit, and only the god-like among men begin to taste its +ambrosial qualities. For nectar and ambrosia are only those fine flavors +of every earthly fruit which our coarse palates fail to perceive,--just +as we occupy the heaven of the gods without knowing it. When I see a +particularly mean man carrying a load of fair and fragrant early apples +to market, I seem to see a contest going on between him and his horse, +on the one side, and the apples on the other, and, to my mind, the +apples always gain it. Pliny says that apples are the heaviest of all +things, and that the oxen begin to sweat at the mere sight of a load +of them. Our driver begins to lose his load the moment he tries to +transport them to where they do not belong, that is, to any but the most +beautiful. Though he gets out from time to time, and feels of them, and +thinks they are all there, I see the stream of their evanescent and +celestial qualities going to heaven from his cart, while the pulp and +skin and core only are going to market. They are not apples, but pomace. +Are not these still Iduna's apples, the taste of which keeps the gods +forever young? and think you that they will let Loki or Thjassi carry +them off to Joetunheim, while they grow wrinkled and gray? No, for +Ragnaroek, or the destruction of the gods, is not yet. + +There is another thinning of the fruit, commonly near the end of August +or in September, when the ground is strewn with windfalls; and this +happens especially when high winds occur after rain. In some orchards +you may see fully three-quarters of the whole crop on the ground, lying +in a circular form beneath the trees, yet hard and green,--or, if it is +a hill-side, rolled far down the hill. However, it is an ill wind that +blows nobody any good. All the country over, people are busy picking up +the windfalls, and this will make them cheap for early apple-pies. + +In October, the leaves falling, the apples are more distinct on the +trees. I saw one year in a neighboring town some trees fuller of fruit +than I remembered to have ever seen before, small yellow apples hanging +over the road. The branches were gracefully drooping with their weight, +like a barberry-bush, so that the whole tree acquired a new character. +Even the topmost branches, instead of standing erect, spread and drooped +in all directions; and there were so many poles supporting the lower +ones, that they looked like pictures of banian-trees. As an old English +manuscript says, "The mo appelen the tree bereth, the more sche boweth +to the folk." + +Surely the apple is the noblest of fruits. Let the most beautiful or the +swiftest have it. That should be the "going" price of apples. + +Between the fifth and twentieth of October I see the barrels lie under +the trees. And perhaps I talk with one who is selecting some choice +barrels to fulfil an order. He turns a specked one over many times +before he leaves it out. If I were to tell what is passing in my mind, I +should say that every one was specked which he had handled; for he rubs +off all the bloom, and those fugacious ethereal qualities leave it. Cool +evenings prompt the farmers to make haste, and at length I see only the +ladders here and there left leaning against the trees. + +It would be well, if we accepted these gifts with more joy and +gratitude, and did not think it enough simply to put a fresh load of +compost about the tree. Some old English customs are suggestive at +least. I find them described chiefly in Brand's "Popular Antiquities." +It appears that "on Christmas eve the farmers and their men in +Devonshire take a large bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and carrying +it in state to the orchard, they salute the apple-trees with much +ceremony, in order to make them bear well the next season." This +salutation consists in "throwing some of the cider about the roots +of the tree, placing bits of the toast on the branches," and then, +"encircling one of the best bearing trees in the orchard, they drink the +following toast three several times:-- + + 'Here's to thee, old apple-tree, + Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow, + And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! + Hats-full! caps-full! + Bushel, bushel, sacks-full! + And my pockets full, too! Hurra!'" + +Also what was called "apple-howling" used to be practised in various +counties of England on New-Year's eve. A troop of boys visited the +different orchards, and, encircling the apple-trees, repeated the +following words:-- + + "Stand fast, root! bear well, top! + Pray God sent! us a good howling crop: + Every twig, apples big; + Every bough, apples enow!" + +"They then shout in chorus, one of the boys accompanying them on a cow's +horn. During this ceremony they rap the trees with their sticks." This +is called "wassailing" the trees, and is thought by some to be "a relic +of the heathen sacrifice to Pomona." + +Herrick sings,-- + + "Wassaile the trees that they may beare + You many a plum and many a peare; + For more or less fruits they will bring + As you so give them wassailing." + +Our poets have as yet a better right to sing of cider than of wine; but +it behooves them to sing better than English Phillips did, else they +will do no credit to their Muse. + + +THE WILD APPLE. + + +So much for the more civilized apple-trees (_urbaniores_, as Pliny +calls them). I love better to go through the old orchards of ungrafted +apple-trees, at whatever season of the year,--so irregularly planted: +sometimes two trees standing close together; and the rows so devious +that you would think that they not only had grown while the owner was +sleeping, but had been set out by him in a somnambulic state. The rows +of grafted fruit will never tempt me to wander amid them like these. But +I now, alas, speak rather from memory than from any recent experience, +such ravages have been made! + +Some soils, like a rocky tract called the Easterbrooks Country in my +neighborhood, are so suited to the apple, that it will grow faster in +them without any care, or if only the ground is broken up once a year, +than it will in many places with any amount of care. The owners of this +tract allow that the soil is excellent for fruit, but they say that it +is so rocky that they have not patience to plough it, and that, together +with the distance, is the reason why it is not cultivated. There are, +or were recently, extensive orchards there standing without order. Nay, +they spring up wild and bear well there in the midst of pines, birches, +maples, and oaks. I am often surprised to see rising amid these trees +the rounded tops of apple-trees glowing with red or yellow fruit, in +harmony with the autumnal tints of the forest. + +Going up the side of a cliff about the first of November, I saw a +vigorous young apple-tree, which, planted by birds or cows, had shot +up amid the rocks and open woods there, and had now much fruit on it, +uninjured by the frosts, when all cultivated apples were gathered. It +was a rank wild growth, with many green leaves on it still, and made an +impression of thorniness. The fruit was hard and green, but looked as if +it would be palatable in the winter. Some was dangling on the twigs, but +more half-buried in the wet leaves under the tree, or rolled far down +the hill amid the rocks. The owner knows nothing of it. The day was not +observed when it first blossomed, nor when it first bore fruit, unless +by the chickadee. There was no dancing on the green beneath it in its +honor, and now there is no hand to pluck its fruit,--which is only +gnawed by squirrels, as I perceive. It has done double duty,--not only +borne this crop, but each twig has grown a foot into the air. And this +is _such_ fruit! bigger than many berries, we must admit, and carried +home will be sound and palatable next spring. What care I for Iduna's +apples so long as I can get these? + +When I go by this shrub thus late and hardy, and see its dangling fruit, +I respect the tree, and I am grateful for Nature's bounty, even though +I cannot eat it. Here on this rugged and woody hill-side has grown an +apple-tree, not planted by man, no relic of a former orchard, but a +natural growth, like the pines and oaks. Most fruits which we prize and +use depend entirely on our care. Corn and grain, potatoes, peaches, +melons, etc., depend altogether on our planting; but the apple emulates +man's independence and enterprise. It is not simply carried, as I have +said, but, like him, to some extent, it has migrated to this New World, +and is even, here and there, making its way amid the aboriginal trees; +just as the ox and dog and horse sometimes run wild and maintain +themselves. + +Even the sourest and crabbedest apple, growing in the most unfavorable +position, suggests such thoughts as these, it is so noble a fruit. + + +THE CRAB. + + +Nevertheless, _our_ wild apple is wild only like myself, perchance, who +belong not to the aboriginal race here, but have strayed into the woods +from the cultivated stock. Wilder still, as I have said, there grows +elsewhere in this country a native and aboriginal Crab-Apple, _Malus +coronaria_, "whose nature has not yet been modified by cultivation." It +is found from Western New-York to Minnesota, and southward. Michaux +says that its ordinary height "is fifteen or eighteen feet, but it is +sometimes found twenty-five or thirty feet high," and that the large +ones "exactly resemble the common apple-tree." "The flowers are white +mingled with rose-color, and are collected in corymbs." They are +remarkable for their delicious odor. The fruit, according to him, is +about an inch and a half in diameter, and is intensely acid. Yet they +make fine sweetmeats, and also cider of them. He concludes, that, "if, +on being cultivated, it does not yield new and palatable varieties, it +will at least be celebrated for the beauty of its flowers, and for the +sweetness of its perfume." + +I never saw the Crab-Apple till May, 1861. I had heard of it through +Michaux, but more modern botanists, so far as I know, have not treated +it as of any peculiar importance. Thus it was a half-fabulous tree +to me. I contemplated a pilgrimage to the "Glades," a portion of +Pennsylvania where it was said to grow to perfection. I thought of +sending to a nursery for it, but doubted if they had it, or would +distinguish it from European varieties. At last I had occasion to go to +Minnesota, and on entering Michigan I began to notice from the cars a +tree with handsome rose-colored flowers. At first I thought it some +variety of thorn; but it was not long before the truth flashed on me, +that this was my long-sought Crab-Apple. It was the prevailing +flowering shrub or tree to be seen from the cars at that season of the +year,--about the middle of May. But the cars never stopped before one, +and so I was launched on the bosom of the Mississippi without having +touched one, experiencing the fate of Tantalus. On arriving at St. +Anthony's Falls, I was sorry to be told that I was too far north for the +Crab-Apple. Nevertheless I succeeded in finding it about eight miles +west of the Falls; touched it and smelled it, and secured a lingering +corymb of flowers for my herbarium. This must have been near its +northern limit. + + +HOW THE WILD APPLE GROWS. + + +But though these are indigenous, like the Indians, I doubt whether they +are any hardier than those backwoodsmen among the apple-trees, which, +though descended from cultivated stocks, plant themselves in distant +fields and forests, where the soil is favorable to them. I know of no +trees which have more difficulties to contend with, and which more +sturdily resist their foes. These are the ones whose story we have to +tell. It oftentimes reads thus:-- + +Near the beginning of May, we notice little thickets of apple-trees just +springing up in the pastures where cattle have been,--as the rocky ones +of our Easter-brooks Country, or the top of Nobscot Hill, in +Sudbury. One or two of these perhaps survive the drought and other +accidents,--their very birthplace defending them against the encroaching +grass and some other dangers, at first. + + In two years' time 't had thus + Reached the level of the rocks, + Admired the stretching world, + Nor feared the wandering flocks. + + But at this tender age + Its sufferings began; + There came a browsing ox + And cut it down a span. + +This time, perhaps, the ox does not notice it amid the grass; but +the next year, when it has grown more stout, he recognizes it for a +fellow-emigrant from the old country, the flavor of whose leaves and +twigs he well knows; and though at first he pauses to welcome it, and +express his surprise, and gets for answer, "The same cause that brought +you here brought me," he nevertheless browses it again, reflecting, it +may be, that he has some title to it. + +Thus cut down annually, it does not despair; but, putting forth two +short twigs for every one cut off, it spreads out low along the ground +in the hollows or between the rocks, growing more stout and scrubby, +until it forms, not a tree as yet, but a little pyramidal, stiff, twiggy +mass, almost as solid and impenetrable as a rock. Some of the densest +and most impenetrable clumps of bushes that I have ever seen, as well on +account of the closeness and stubbornness of their branches as of their +thorns, have been these wild-apple scrubs. They are more like the +scrubby fir and black spruce on which you stand, and sometimes walk, on +the tops of mountains, where cold is the demon they contend with, than +anything else. No wonder they are prompted to grow thorns at last, to +defend themselves against such foes. In their thorniness, however, there +is no malice, only some malic acid. + +The rocky pastures of the tract I have referred to--for they maintain +their ground best in a rocky field--are thickly sprinkled with these +little tufts, reminding you often of some rigid gray mosses or lichens, +and you see thousands of little trees just springing up between them, +with the seed still attached to them. + +Being regularly clipped all around each year by the cows, as a hedge +with shears, they are often of a perfect conical or pyramidal form, from +one to four feet high, and more or less sharp, as if trimmed by the +gardener's art. In the pastures on Nobscot Hill and its spurs, they make +fine dark shadows when the sun is low. They are also an excellent covert +from hawks for many small birds that roost and build in them. Whole +flocks perch in them at night, and I have seen three robins' nests in +one which was six feet in diameter. + +No doubt many of these are already old trees, if you reckon from the day +they were planted, but infants still when you consider their development +and the long life before them. I counted the annual rings of some which +were just one foot high, and as wide as high, and found that they were +about twelve years old, but quite sound and thrifty! They were so +low that they were unnoticed by the walker, while many of their +contemporaries from the nurseries were already bearing considerable +crops. But what you gain in time is perhaps in this case, too, lost +in power,--that is, in the vigor of the tree. This is their pyramidal +state. + +The cows continue to browse them thus for twenty years or more, keeping +them down and compelling them to spread, until at last they are so broad +that they become their own fence, when some interior shoot, which their +foes cannot reach, darts upward with joy: for it has not forgotten its +high calling, and bears its own peculiar fruit in triumph. + +Such are the tactics by which it finally defeats its bovine foes. Now, +if you have watched the progress of a particular shrub, you will see +that it is no longer a simple pyramid or cone, but that out of its apex +there rises a sprig or two, growing more lustily perchance than an +orchard-tree, since the plant now devotes the whole of its repressed +energy to these upright parts. In a short time these become a small +tree, an inverted pyramid resting on the apex of the other, so that +the whole has now the form of a vast hour-glass. The spreading bottom, +having served its purpose, finally disappears, and the generous tree +permits the now harmless cows to come in and stand in its shade, and rub +against and redden its trunk, which has grown in spite of them, and even +to taste a part of its fruit, and so disperse the seed. + +Thus the cows create their own shade and food; and the tree, its +hour-glass being inverted, lives a second life, as it were. + +It is an important question with some nowadays, whether you should trim +young apple-trees as high as your nose or as high as your eyes. The +ox trims them up as high as he can reach, and that is about the right +height, I think. + +In spite of wandering kine, and other adverse circumstances, that +despised shrub, valued only by small birds as a covert and shelter from +hawks, has its blossom-week at last, and in course of time its harvest, +sincere, though small. + +By the end of some October, when its leaves have fallen, I frequently +see such a central sprig, whose progress I have watched, when I thought +it had forgotten its destiny, as I had, bearing its first crop of small +green or yellow or rosy fruit, which the cows cannot get at over the +bushy and thorny hedge which surrounds it, and I make haste to taste the +new and undescribed variety. We have all heard of the numerous varieties +of fruit invented by Van Mons and Knight. This is the system of Van Cow, +and she has invented far more and more memorable varieties than both of +them. + +Through what hardships it may attain to bear a sweet fruit! Though +somewhat small, it may prove equal, if not superior, in flavor to that +which has grown in a garden,--will perchance be all the sweeter and more +palatable for the very difficulties it has had to contend with. Who +knows but this chance wild fruit, planted by a cow or a bird on some +remote and rocky hill-side, where it is as yet unobserved by man, may be +the choicest of all its kind, and foreign potentates shall hear of it, +and royal societies seek to propagate it, though the virtues of the +perhaps truly crabbed owner of the soil may never be heard of,--at +least, beyond the limits of his village? It was thus the Porter and the +Baldwin grew. + +Every wild-apple shrub excites our expectation thus, somewhat as every +wild child. It is, perhaps, a prince in disguise. What a lesson to man! +So are human beings, referred to the highest standard, the celestial +fruit which they suggest and aspire to bear, browsed on by fate; and +only the most persistent and strongest genius defends itself and +prevails, sends a tender scion upward at last, and drops its perfect +fruit on the ungrateful earth. Poets and philosophers and statesmen thus +spring up in the country pastures, and outlast the hosts of unoriginal +men. + +Such is always the pursuit of knowledge. The celestial fruits, the +golden apples of the Hesperides, are ever guarded by a hundred-headed +dragon which never sleeps, so that it is an Herculean labor to pluck +them. + +This is one, and the most remarkable way, in which the wild apple is +propagated; but commonly it springs up at wide intervals in woods and +swamps, and by the sides of roads, as the soil may suit it, and grows +with comparative rapidity. Those which grow in dense woods are very tall +and slender. I frequently pluck from these trees a perfectly mild and +tamed fruit. As Palladius says, "_Et injussu consternitur ubere mali_": +And the ground is strewn with the fruit of an unbidden apple-tree. + +It is an old notion, that, if these wild trees do not bear a valuable +fruit of their own, they are the best stocks by which to transmit to +posterity the most highly prized qualities of others. However, I am not +in search of stocks, but the wild fruit itself, whose fierce gust has +suffered no "inteneration," It is not my + + "highest plot + To plant the Bergamot." + + +THE FRUIT, AND ITS FLAVOR. + + +The time for wild apples is the last of October and the first of +November. They then get to be palatable, for they ripen late, and they +are still perhaps as beautiful as ever. I make a great account of +these fruits, which the farmers do not think it worth the while to +gather,--wild flavors of the Muse, vivacious and inspiriting. The farmer +thinks that he has better in his barrels, but he is mistaken, unless he +has a walker's appetite and imagination, neither of which can he have. + +Such as grow quite wild, and are left out till the first of November, I +presume that the owner does not mean to gather. They belong to children +as wild as themselves,--to certain active boys that I know,--to the +wild-eyed woman of the fields, to whom nothing comes amiss, who gleans +after all the world,--and, moreover, to us walkers. We have met with +them, and they are ours. These rights, long enough insisted upon, have +come to be an institution in some old countries, where they have learned +how to live. I hear that "the custom of grippling, which may be called +apple-gleaning, is, or was formerly, practised in Herefordshire. It +consists in leaving a few apples, which are called the gripples, on +every tree, after the general gathering, for the boys, who go with +climbing-poles and bags to collect them." + +As for those I speak of, I pluck them as a wild fruit, native to this +quarter of the earth,--fruit of old trees that have been dying ever +since I was a boy and are not yet dead, frequented only by the +woodpecker and the squirrel, deserted now by the owner, who has not +faith enough to look under their boughs. From the appearance of the +tree-top, at a little distance, you would expect nothing but lichens to +drop from it, but your faith is rewarded by finding the ground strewn +with spirited fruit,--some of it, perhaps, collected at squirrel-holes, +with the marks of their teeth by which they carried them,--some +containing a cricket or two silently feeding within, and some, +especially in damp days, a shelless snail. The very sticks and stones +lodged in the tree-top might have convinced you of the savoriness of the +fruit which has been so eagerly sought after in past years. + +I have seen no account of these among the "Fruits and Fruit-Trees of +America," though they are more memorable to my taste than the grafted +kinds; more racy and wild American flavors do they possess, when October +and November, when December and January, and perhaps February and March +even, have assuaged them somewhat. An old farmer in my neighborhood, who +always selects the right word, says that "they have a kind of bow-arrow +tang." + +Apples for grafting appear to have been selected commonly, not so much +for their spirited flavor, as for their mildness, their size, and +bearing qualities,--not so much for their beauty, as for their fairness +and soundness. Indeed, I have no faith in the selected lists of +pomological gentlemen. Their "Favorites" and "None-suches" and +"Seek-no-farthers," when I have fruited them, commonly turn out very +tame and forgetable. They are eaten with comparatively little zest, and +have no real _tang_ nor _smack_ to them. + +What if some of these wildings are acrid and puckery, genuine +_verjuice_, do they not still belong to the _Pomaceae_, which are +uniformly innocent and kind to our race? I still begrudge them to the +cider-mill. Perhaps they are not fairly ripe yet. + +No wonder that these small and high-colored apples are thought to make +the best cider. Loudon quotes from the "Herefordshire Report," that +"apples of a small size are always, if equal in quality, to be preferred +to those of a larger size, in order that the rind and kernel may bear +the greatest proportion to the pulp, which affords the weakest and +most watery juice." And he says, that, "to prove this, Dr. Symonds, of +Hereford, about the year 1800, made one hogshead of cider entirely from +the rinds and cores of apples, and another from the pulp only, when the +first was found of extraordinary strength and flavor, while the latter +was sweet and insipid." + +Evelyn says that the "Red-strake" was the favorite cider-apple in his +day; and he quotes one Dr. Newburg as saying, "In Jersey 't is a general +observation, as I hear, that the more of red any apple has in its rind, +the more proper it is for this use. Pale-faced apples they exclude as +much as may be from their cider-vat." This opinion still prevails. + +All apples are good in November. Those which the farmer leaves out +as unsalable, and unpalatable to those who frequent the markets, are +choicest fruit to the walker. But it is remarkable that the wild apple, +which I praise as so spirited and racy when eaten in the fields or +woods, being brought into the house, has frequently a harsh and crabbed +taste. The Saunterer's Apple not even the saunterer can eat in the +house. The palate rejects it there, as it does haws and acorns, and +demands a tamed one; for there you miss the November air, which is the +sauce it is to be eaten with. Accordingly, when Tityrus, seeing the +lengthening shadows, invites Melibaeus to go home and pass the night +with him, he promises him _mild_ apples and soft chestnuts,--_mitia +poma, castaneae molles_. I frequently pluck wild apples of so rich and +spicy a flavor that I wonder all orchardists do not get a scion from +that tree, and I fail not to bring home my pockets full. But perchance, +when I take one out of my desk and taste it in my chamber, I find it +unexpectedly crude,--sour enough to set a squirrel's teeth on edge and +make a jay scream. + +These apples have hung in the wind and frost and rain till they have +absorbed the qualities of the weather or season, and thus are highly +_seasoned_, and they _pierce_ and _sting_ and _permeate_ us with +their spirit. They must be eaten in _season_, accordingly,--that is, +out-of-doors. + +To appreciate the wild and sharp flavors of these October fruits, it is +necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air. The +out-door air and exercise which the walker gets give a different tone to +his palate, and he craves a fruit which the sedentary would call harsh +and crabbed. They must be eaten in the fields, when your system is all +aglow with exercise, when the frosty weather nips your fingers, the wind +rattles the bare boughs or rustles the few remaining leaves, and the +jay is heard screaming around. What is sour in the house a bracing walk +makes sweet. Some of these apples might be labelled, "To be eaten in the +wind." + +Of course no flavors are thrown away; they are intended for the taste +that is up to them. Some apples have two distinct flavors, and perhaps +one-half of them must be eaten in the house, the other out-doors. One +Peter Whitney wrote from Northborough in 1782, for the Proceedings of +the Boston Academy, describing an apple-tree in that town "producing +fruit of opposite qualities, part of the same apple being frequently +sour and the other sweet;" also some all sour, and others all sweet, and +this diversity on all parts of the tree. + +There is a wild apple on Nawshawtuct Hill in my town which has to me a +peculiarly pleasant bitter tang, not perceived till it is three-quarters +tasted. It remains on the tongue. As you eat it, it smells exactly like +a squash-bug. It is a sort of triumph to eat and relish it. + +I hear that the fruit of a kind of plum-tree in Provence is "called +_Prunes sibarelles_, because it is impossible to whistle after having +eaten them, from their sourness." But perhaps they were only eaten +in the house and in summer, and if tried out-of-doors in a stinging +atmosphere, who knows but you could whistle an octave higher and +clearer? + +In the fields only are the sours and bitters of Nature appreciated; just +as the wood-chopper eats his meal in a sunny glade, in the middle of +a winter day, with content, basks in a sunny ray there and dreams of +summer in a degree of cold which, experienced in a chamber, would make a +student miserable. They who are at work abroad are not cold, but rather +it is they who sit shivering in houses. As with temperatures, so with +flavors; as with cold and heat, so with sour and sweet. This natural +raciness, the sours and bitters which the diseased palate refuses, are +the true condiments. + +Let your condiments be in the condition of your senses. To appreciate +the flavor of these wild apples requires vigorous and healthy senses, +_papillae_ firm and erect on the tongue and palate, not easily flattened +and tamed. + +From my experience with wild apples, I can understand that there may be +reason for a savage's preferring many kinds of food which the civilized +man rejects. The former has the palate of an out-door man. It takes a +savage or wild taste to appreciate a wild fruit. + +What a healthy out-of-door appetite it takes to relish the apple of +life, the apple of the world, then! + + "Nor is it every apple I desire, + Nor that which pleases every palate best; + 'T is not the lasting Deuxan I require, + Nor yet the red-cheeked Greening I request, + Nor that which first beshrewed the name of + wife, + Nor that whose beauty caused the golden + strife: + No, no! bring me an apple from the tree of + life!" + +So there is one thought for the field, another for the house. I would +have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and will not +warrant them to be palatable, if tasted in the house. + + +THEIR BEAUTY. + + +Almost all wild apples are handsome. They cannot be too gnarly and +crabbed and rusty to look at. The gnarliest will have some redeeming +traits even to the eye. You will discover some evening redness dashed or +sprinkled on some protuberance or in some cavity. It is rare that the +summer lets an apple go without streaking or spotting it on some part of +its sphere. It will have some red stains, commemorating the mornings and +evenings it has witnessed; some dark and rusty blotches, in memory of +the clouds and foggy, mildewy days that have passed over it; and a +spacious field of green reflecting the general face of Nature,--green +even as the fields; or a yellow ground, which implies a milder +flavor,--yellow as the harvest, or russet as the hills. + +Apples, these I mean, unspeakably fair,--apples not of Discord, but +of Concord! Yet not so rare but that the homeliest may have a share. +Painted by the frosts, some a uniform clear bright yellow, or red, or +crimson, as if their spheres had regularly revolved, and enjoyed the +influence of the sun on all sides alike,--some with the faintest pink +blush imaginable,--some brindled with deep red streaks like a cow, +or with hundreds of fine blood-red rays running regularly from +the stem-dimple to the blossom-end, like meridional lines, on a +straw-colored ground,--some touched with a greenish rust, like a fine +lichen, here and there, with crimson blotches or eyes more or less +confluent and fiery when wet,--and others gnarly, and freckled or +peppered all over on the stem side with fine crimson spots on a white +ground, as if accidentally sprinkled from the brush of Him who paints +the autumn leaves. Others, again, are sometimes red inside, perfused +with a beautiful blush, fairy food, too beautiful to eat,--apple of the +Hesperides, apple of the evening sky! But like shells and pebbles on the +sea-shore, they must be seen as they sparkle amid the withering leaves +in some dell in the woods, in the autumnal air, or as they lie in the +wet grass, and not when they have wilted and faded in the house. + + +THE NAMING OF THEM. + + +It would be a pleasant pastime to find suitable names for the hundred +varieties which go to a single heap at the cider-mill. Would it not +tax a man's invention,--no one to be named after a man, and all in the +_lingua vernacula_? Who shall stand godfather at the christening of the +wild apples? It would exhaust the Latin and Greek languages, if they +were used, and make the _lingua vernacula_ flag. We should have to call +in the sunrise and the sunset, the rainbow and the autumn woods and the +wild flowers, and the woodpecker and the purple finch and the squirrel +and the jay and the butterfly, the November traveller and the truant +boy, to our aid. + +In 1836 there were in the garden of the London Horticultural Society +more than fourteen hundred distinct sorts. But here are species which +they have not in their catalogue, not to mention the varieties which our +Crab might yield to cultivation. + +Let us enumerate a few of these. I find myself compelled, after all, to +give the Latin names of some for the benefit of those who live where +English is not spoken,--for they are likely to have a world-wide +reputation. + +There is, first of all, the Wood-Apple (_Malus sylvatica_); the Blue-Jay +Apple; the Apple which grows in Dells in the Woods, (_sylvestrivallis,_) +also in Hollows in Pastures (_campestrivallis_); the Apple that grows +in an old Cellar-Hole (_Malus cellaris_); the Meadow-Apple; the +Partridge-Apple; the Truant's Apple, (_Cessaloris,_) which no boy will +ever go by without knocking off some, however _late_ it may be; the +Saunterer's Apple,--you must lose yourself before you can find the way +to that; the Beauty of the Air (_Decus Aeris_); December-Eating; the +Frozen-Thawed, (_gelato-soluta_) good only in that state; the Concord +Apple, possibly the same with the _Musketaquidensis_; the Assabet Apple; +the Brindled Apple; Wine of New England; the Chickaree Apple; the Green +Apple (_Malus viridis_);--this has many synonymes; in an imperfect +state, it is the _Cholera morbifera aut dysenterifera, puerulis +dilectissima;_--the Apple which Atalanta stopped to pick up; the +Hedge-Apple (_Malus Sepium_); the Slug-Apple (_limacea_); the +Railroad-Apple, which perhaps came from a core thrown out of the cars; +the Apple whose Fruit we tasted in our Youth; our Particular Apple, not +to be found in any catalogue,--_Pedestrium Solatium_; also the Apple +where hangs the Forgotten Scythe; Iduna's Apples, and the Apples which +Loki found in the Wood; and a great many more I have on my list, too +numerous to mention,--all of them good. As Bodaeus exclaims, referring +to the cultivated kinds, and adapting Virgil to his case, so I, adapting +Bodaeus,-- + + "Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, + An iron voice, could I describe all the forms + And reckon up all the names of these _wild apples_." + + +THE LAST GLEANING. + + +By the middle of November the wild apples have lost some of their +brilliancy, and have chiefly fallen. A great part are decayed on the +ground, and the sound ones are more palatable than before. The note +of the chickadee sounds now more distinct, as you wander amid the old +trees, and the autumnal dandelion is half-closed and tearful. But still, +if you are a skilful gleaner, you may get many a pocket-full even of +grafted fruit, long after apples are supposed to be gone out-of-doors. I +know a Blue-Pearmain tree, growing within the edge of a swamp, almost as +good as wild. You would not suppose that there was any fruit left there, +on the first survey, but you must look according to system. Those which +lie exposed are quite brown and rotten now, or perchance a few +still show one blooming cheek here and there amid the wet leaves. +Nevertheless, with experienced eyes, I explore amid the bare alders and +the huckleberry-bushes and the withered sedge, and in the crevices +of the rocks, which are full of leaves, and pry under the fallen and +decaying ferns, which, with apple and alder leaves, thickly strew the +ground. For I know that they lie concealed, fallen into hollows long +since and covered up by the leaves of the tree itself,--a proper kind of +packing. From these lurking-places, anywhere within the circumference of +the tree, I draw forth the fruit, all wet and glossy, maybe nibbled by +rabbits and hollowed out by crickets and perhaps with a leaf or two +cemented to it, (as Curzon an old manuscript from a monastery's mouldy +cellar,) but still with a rich bloom on it, and at least as ripe and +well kept, if not better than those in barrels, more crisp and lively +than they. If these resources fail to yield anything, I have learned to +look between the bases of the suckers which spring thickly from some +horizontal limb, for now and then one lodges there, or in the very midst +of an alder-clump, where they are covered by leaves, safe from cows +which may have smelled them out. If I am sharp-set, for I do not refuse +the Blue-Pearmain, I fill my pockets on each side; and as I retrace my +steps in the frosty eve, being perhaps four or five miles from home, I +eat one first from this side, and then from that, to keep my balance. + +I learn from Topsell's Gesner, whose authority appears to be Albertus, +that the following is the way in which the hedgehog collects and carries +home his apples. He says,--"His meat is apples, worms, or grapes: when +he findeth apples or grapes on the earth, he rolleth himself upon them, +until he have filled all his prickles, and then carrieth them home to +his den, never bearing above one in his mouth; and if it fortune that +one of them fall off by the way, he likewise shaketh off all the +residue, and walloweth upon them afresh, until they be all settled upon +his back again. So, forth he goeth, making a noise like a cart-wheel; +and if he have any young ones in his nest, they pull off his load +wherewithal he is loaded, eating thereof what they please, and laying up +the residue for the time to come." + + +THE "FROZEN-THAWED" APPLE. + + +Toward the end of November, though some of the sound ones are yet more +mellow and perhaps more edible, they have generally, like the leaves, +lost their beauty, and are beginning to freeze. It is finger-cold, and +prudent farmers get in their barrelled apples, and bring you the apples +and cider which they have engaged; for it is time to put them into the +cellar. Perhaps a few on the ground show their red cheeks above the +early snow, and occasionally some even preserve their color and +soundness under the snow throughout the winter. But generally at the +beginning of the winter they freeze hard, and soon, though undecayed, +acquire the color of a baked apple. + +Before the end of December, generally, they experience their first +thawing. Those which a month ago were sour, crabbed, and quite +unpalatable to the civilized taste, such at least as were frozen while +sound, let a warmer sun come to thaw them, for they are extremely +sensitive to its rays, are found to be filled with a rich sweet cider, +better than any bottled cider that I know of, and with which I am better +acquainted than with wine. All apples are good in this state, and your +jaws are the cider-press. Others, which have more substance, are a sweet +and luscious food,--in my opinion of more worth than the pine-apples +which are imported from the West Indies. Those which lately even I +tasted only to repent of it,--for I am semi-civilized,--which the farmer +willingly left on the tree, I am now glad to find have the property of +hanging on like the leaves of the young oaks. It is a way to keep cider +sweet without boiling. Let the frost come to freeze them first, solid as +stones, and then the rain or a warm winter day to thaw them, and they +will seem to have borrowed a flavor from heaven through the medium of +the air in which they hang. Or perchance you find, when you get home, +that those which rattled in your pocket have thawed, and the ice is +turned to cider. But after the third or fourth freezing and thawing they +will not be found so good. + +What are the imported half-ripe fruits of the torrid South, to this +fruit matured by the cold of the frigid North? These are those crabbed +apples with which I cheated my companion, and kept a smooth face that +I might tempt him to eat. Now we both greedily fill our pockets +with them,--bending to drink the cup and save our lappets from the +overflowing juice,--and grow more social with their wine. Was there one +that hung so high and sheltered by the tangled branches that our sticks +could not dislodge it? + +It is a fruit never carried to market, that I am aware of,--quite +distinct from the apple of the markets, as from dried apple and +cider,--and it is not every winter that produces it in perfection. + + * * * * * + +The era of the Wild Apple will soon be past. It is a fruit which will +probably become extinct in New England. You may still wander through old +orchards of native fruit of great extent, which for the most part went +to the cider-mill, now all gone to decay. I have heard of an orchard in +a distant town, on the side of a hill, where the apples rolled down and +lay four feet deep against a wall on the lower side, and this the owner +cut down for fear they should be made into cider. Since the temperance +reform and the general introduction of grafted fruit, no native +apple-trees, such as I see everywhere in deserted pastures, and where +the woods have grown up around them, are set out. I fear that he who +walks over these fields a century hence will not know the pleasure of +knocking off wild apples. Ah, poor man, there are many pleasures which +he will not know! Notwithstanding the prevalence of the Baldwin and the +Porter, I doubt if so extensive orchards are set out to-day in my town +as there were a century ago, when those vast straggling cider-orchards +were planted, when men both ate and drank apples, when the pomace-heap +was the only nursery, and trees cost nothing but the trouble of setting +them out. Men could afford then to stick a tree by every wall-side and +let it take its chance. I see nobody planting trees to-day in such +out-of-the-way places, along the lonely roads and lanes, and at the +bottom of dells in the wood. Now that they have grafted trees, and pay a +price for them, they collect them into a plat by their houses, and fence +them in,--and the end of it all will be that we shall be compelled to +look for our apples in a barrel. + +This is the word of the Lord that came to Joel the son of Pethuel. + +"Hear this, ye old men, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land! +Hath this been in your days, or even in the days of your fathers?... + +"That which the palmer-worm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that +which the locust hath left hath the canker-worm eaten; and that which +the canker-worm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. + +"Awake, ye drunkards, and weep! and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, +because of the new wine! for it is cut off from your mouth. + +"For a nation is come up upon my land, strong, and without number, whose +teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek-teeth of a great +lion. + +"He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree; he hath made it +clean bare, and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.... + +"Be ye ashamed, O ye husbandmen! howl, O ye vine-dressers!... + +"The vine is dried up, and the fig-tree languisheth; the +pomegranate-tree, the palm-tree also, and the apple-tree, even all the +trees of the field, are withered: because joy is withered away from the +sons of men." + + * * * * * + + +LIFE IN THE OPEN AIR. + +BY THE AUTHOR OF "CECIL DREEME" AND "JOHN BRENT." + +KATAHDIN AND THE PENOBSCOT. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MOOSEHEAD. + + +Moosehead Lake is a little bigger than the Lago di Guarda, and +therefore, according to our American standard, rather more important. It +is not very grand, not very picturesque, but considerably better than +no lake,--a meritorious mean; not pretty and shadowy, like a thousand +lakelets all over the land, nor tame, broad, and sham-oceanic, like the +tanks of Niagara. On the west, near its southern end, is a well-intended +blackness and roughness called Squaw Mountain. The rest on that side is +undistinguished pine woods. + +Mount Kinneo is midway up the lake, on the east. It is the show-piece of +the region,--the best they can do for a precipice, and really admirably +done. Kinneo is a solid mass of purple flint rising seven hundred feet +upright from the water. By the side of this block could some Archimedes +appear, armed with a suitable "_pou sto_" and a mallet heavy enough, +he might strike fire to the world. Since percussion-guns and friction +cigar-lighters came in, flint has somewhat lost its value; and Kinneo +is of no practical use at present. We cannot allow inutilities in this +world. Where is the Archimedes? He could make a handsome thing of it by +flashing us off with a spark into a new system of things. + +Below this dangerous cliff on the lake-bank is the Kinneo House, where +fishermen and sportsmen may dwell, and kill or catch, as skill or +fortune favors. The historical success of all catchers and killers is +well balanced, since men who cannot master facts are always men of +imagination, and it is as easy for them to invent as for the other class +to do. Boston men haunt Kinneo. For a hero who has not skill enough or +imagination enough to kill a moose stands rather in Nowhere with Boston +fashion. The tameness of that pleasant little capital makes its belles +ardent for tales of wild adventure. New-York women are less exacting; a +few of them, indeed, like a dash of the adventurous in their lover; but +most of them are business-women, fighting their way out of vulgarity +into style, and romance is an interruption. + +Kinneo was an old station of Iglesias's, in those days when he was +probing New England for the picturesque. When the steamer landed, he +acted as cicerone, and pointed out to me the main object of +interest thereabouts, the dinner-table. We dined with lumbermen and +moose-hunters, scufflingly. + +The moose is the lion of these regions. Near Greenville, a gigantic pair +of moose-horns marks a fork in the road. Thenceforth moose-facts and +moose-legends become the staple of conversation. Moose-meat, combining +the flavor of beefsteak and the white of turtle, appears on the table. +Moose-horns with full explanations, so that the buyer can play the part +of hunter, are for sale. Tame mooselings are exhibited. Sportsmen at +Kinneo can choose a _matinee_ with the trout or a _soiree_ with the +moose. + +The chief fact of a moose's person is that pair of strange excrescences, +his horns. Like fronds of tree-fern, like great corals or sea-fans, +these great palmated plates of bone lift themselves from his head, +grand, useless, clumsy. A pair of moose-horns overlooks me as I write; +they weigh twenty pounds, are nearly five feet in spread, on the right +horn are nine developed and two undeveloped antlers, the plates are +sixteen inches broad,--a doughty head-piece. + +Every year the great, slow-witted animal must renew his head-gear. He +must lose the deformity, his pride, and cultivate another. In spring, +when the first anemone trembles to the vernal breeze, the moose nods +welcome to the wind, and as he nods feels something rattle on his skull. +He nods again, as Homer sometimes did. Lo! something drops. A horn has +dropped, and he stands a bewildered unicorn. For a few days he steers +wild; in this ill-balanced course his lone horn strikes every tree +on this side as he dodges from that side. The unhappy creature is +staggered, body and mind. In what Jericho of the forest can he hide his +diminished head? He flies frantic. He runs amuck through the woods. Days +pass by in gloom, and then comes despair; another horn falls, and he +becomes defenceless; and not till autumn does his brow bear again its +full honors. + +I make no apology for giving a few lines to the great event of a moose's +life. He is the hero of those evergreen-woods,--a hero too little +recognized, except by stealthy assassins, meeting him by midnight for +massacre. No one seems to have viewed him in his dramatic character, as +a forest-monarch enacting every year the tragi-comedy of decoronation +and recoronation. + +The Kinneo House is head-quarters for moose-hunters. This summer the +waters of Maine were diluvial, the feeding-grounds were swamped. Of this +we took little note: we were in chase of something certain not to +be drowned; and the higher the deluge, the easier we could float to +Katahdin. After dinner we took the steamboat again for the upper end of +the lake. + +It was a day of days for sunny summer sailing. Purple haziness curtained +the dark front of Kinneo,--a delicate haze purpled by this black +promontory, but melting blue like a cloud-fall of cloudless sky upon +loftier distant summits. The lake rippled pleasantly, flashing at every +ripple. + +Suddenly, "Katahdin!" said Iglesias. + +Yes, there was a dim point, the object of our pilgrimage. + +Katahdin,--the more I saw of it, the more grateful I was to the three +powers who enabled me to see it: to Nature for building it, to Iglesias +for guiding me to it, to myself for going. + +We sat upon the deck and let Katahdin grow,--and sitting, talked of +mountains, somewhat to this effect:-- + +Mountains are the best things to be seen. Within the keen outline of a +great peak is packed more of distance, of detail, of light and shade, of +color, of all the qualities of space, than vision can get in any other +way. No one who has not seen mountains knows how far the eye can reach. +Level horizons are within cannon-shot. Mountain horizons not only may be +a hundred miles away, but they lift up a hundred miles at length, to be +seen at a look. Mountains make a background against which blue sky +can be seen; between them and the eye are so many miles of visible +atmosphere, domesticated, brought down to the regions of earth, not +resting overhead, a vagueness and a void. Air, blue in full daylight, +rose and violet at sunset, gray like powdered starlight by night, is +collected and isolated by a mountain, so that the eye can comprehend it +in nearer acquaintance. There is nothing so refined as the outline of +a distant mountain: even a rose-leaf is stiff-edged and harsh in +comparison. Nothing else has that definite indefiniteness, that melting +permanence, that evanescing changelessness. Clouds in vain strive to +imitate it; they are made of slighter stuff; they can be blunt or +ragged, but they cannot have that solid positiveness. + +Mountains, too, are very stationary,--always at their post. They are +characters of dignity, not without noble changes of mood; but these +changes are not bewildering, capricious shifts. A mountain can be +studied like a picture; its majesty, its grace can be got by heart. +Purple precipice, blue pyramid, cone or dome of snow, it is a simple +image and a positive thought. It is a delicate fact, first, of +beauty,--then, as you approach, a strong fact of majesty and power. +But even in its cloudy, distant fairness there is a concise, emphatic +reality altogether uncloudlike. + +Manly men need the wilderness and the mountain. Katahdin is the best +mountain in the wildest wild to be had on this side the continent. He +looked at us encouragingly over the hills. I saw that he was all that +Iglesias, connoisseur of mountains, had promised, and was content to +wait for the day of meeting. + +The steamboat dumped us and our canoe on a wharf at the lake-head about +four o'clock. A wharf promised a settlement, which, however, did not +exist. There was population,--one man and one great ox. Following the +inland-pointing nose of the ox, we saw, penetrating the forest, a wooden +railroad. Ox-locomotive, and no other, befitted such rails. The train +was one great go-cart. We packed our traps upon it, roofed them with our +birch, and, without much ceremony of whistling, moved on. As we started, +so did the steamboat. The link between us and the inhabited world grew +more and more attenuated. Finally it snapped, and we were in the actual +wilderness. + +I am sorry to chronicle that Iglesias hereupon turned to the ox and said +impatiently,-- + +"Now, then, bullgine!" + +Why a railroad, even a wooden one, here? For this: the Penobscot at this +point approaches within two and a half miles of Moosehead Lake, and over +this portage supplies are taken conveniently for the lumbermen of an +extensive lumbering country above, along the river. + +Corduroy railroad, ox-locomotive, and go-cart train up in the pine woods +were a novelty and a privilege. Our cloven-hoofed engine did not whirr +turbulently along, like a thing of wheels. Slow and sure must the +knock-kneed chewer of cuds step from log to log. Creakingly the wain +followed him, pausing and starting and pausing again with groans of +inertia. A very fat ox was this, protesting every moment against his +employment, where speed, his duty, and sloth, his nature, kept him +bewildered by their rival injunctions. Whenever the engine-driver +stopped to pick a huckleberry, the train, self-braking, stopped also, +and the engine took in fuel from the tall grass that grew between the +sleepers. It was the sensation of sloth at its uttermost. + +Iglesias and I, meanwhile, marched along and shot the game of the +country, namely, one _Tetrao Canadensis_, one spruce-partridge, making +in all one bird, quite too pretty to shoot with its red and black +plumage. The spruce-partridge is rather rare in inhabited Maine, and +is malignantly accused of being bitter in flesh, and of feeding on +spruce-buds to make itself distasteful. Our bird we found sweetly +berry-fed. The bitterness, if any, was that we had not a brace. + +So, at last, in an hour, after shooting one bird and swallowing six +million berries, for the railroad was a shaft into a mine of them, we +came to the terminus. The chewer of cuds was disconnected, and plodded +off to his stable. The go-cart slid down an inclined plane to the river, +the Penobscot. + +We paid quite freely for our brief monopoly of the railroad to the +superintendent, engineer, stoker, poker, switch-tender, brakeman, +baggage-master, and every other official in one. But who would grudge +his tribute to the enterprise that opened this narrow vista through +toward the Hyperboreans, and planted these once not crumbling sleepers +and once not rickety rails, to save the passenger a portage? Here, +at Bullgineville, the pluralist railroad-manager had his cabin and +clearing, ox-engine house and warehouse. + +To balance these symbols of advance, we found a station of the +rear-guard of another army. An Indian party of two was encamped on the +bank. The fusty sagamore of this pair was lying wounded; his fusty squaw +tended him tenderly, minding, meanwhile, a very witch-like caldron +of savory fume. No skirmish, with actual war-whoop and sheen of real +scalping-knife, had put this prostrate chieftain here _hors du combat_. +He had shot himself cruelly by accident. So he informed us feebly, in a +muddy, guttural _patois_ of Canadian French. This aboriginal meeting was +of great value; it helped to eliminate the railroad. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +PENOBSCOT. + + +It was now five o'clock of an August evening. Our work-day was properly +done. But we were to camp somewhere, "anywhere out of the world" of +railroads. The Penobscot glimmered winningly. Our birch looked wistful +for its own element. Why not marry shallop to stream? Why not yield +to the enticement of this current, fleet and clear, and gain a few +beautiful miles before nightfall? All the world was before us where to +choose our bivouac. We dismounted our birch from the truck, and laid its +lightness upon the stream. Then we became stevedores, stowing cargo. +Sheets of birch-bark served for dunnage. Cancut, in flamboyant shirt, +ballasted the after-part of the craft. For the present, I, in flamboyant +shirt, paddled in the bow, while Iglesias, similarly glowing, sat _a +la Turque_ midships among the traps. Then, with a longing sniff at the +caldron of Soggysampcook, we launched upon the Penobscot. + +Upon no sweeter stream was voyager ever launched than this of our +summer-evening sail. There was no worse haste in its more speed; it +went fleetly lingering along its leafy dell. Its current, unripplingly +smooth, but dimpled ever, and wrinkled with the whirls that mark an +underflow deep and shady, bore on our bark. The banks were low and +gently wooded. No Northern forest, rude and gloomy with pines, stood +stiffly and unsympathizingly watching the graceful water, but cheerful +groves and delicate coppices opened in vistas where level sunlight +streamed, and barred the river with light, between belts of lightsome +shadow. We felt no breeze, but knew of one, keeping pace with us, by a +tremor in the birches as it shook them. On we drifted, mile after mile, +languidly over sweet calms. One would seize his paddle, and make our +canoe quiver for a few spasmodic moments. But it seemed needless and +impertinent to toil, when noiselessly and without any show of energy the +water was bearing us on, over rich reflections of illumined cloud and +blue sky, and shadows of feathery birches, bearing us on so quietly that +our passage did not shatter any fair image, but only drew it out upon +the tremors of the water. + +So, placid and beautiful as an interview of first love, went on our +first meeting with this Northern river. But water, the feminine element, +is so mobile and impressible that it must protect itself by much that +seems caprice and fickleness. We might be sure that the Penobscot would +not always flow so gently, nor all the way from forests to the sea +conduct our bark without one shiver of panic, where rapids broke noisy +and foaming over rocks that showed their grinding teeth at us. + +Sunset now streamed after us down the river. The arbor-vitae along the +banks marked tracery more delicate than any ever wrought by deftest +craftsman in western window of an antique fane. Brighter and richer than +any tints that ever poured through painted oriel flowed the glories of +sunset. Dear, pensive glooms of nightfall drooped from the zenith slowly +down, narrowing twilight to a belt of dying flame. We were aware of the +ever fresh surprise of starlight: the young stars were born again. + +Sweet is the charm of starlit sailing where no danger is. And in days +when the Munki Mannakens were foes of the pale-face, one might dash down +rapids by night in the hurry of escape. Now the danger was before, not +pursuing. We must camp before we were hurried into the first "rips" +of the stream, and before night made bush-ranging and camp-duties +difficult. + +But these beautiful thickets of birch and alder along the bank, how to +get through them? We must spy out an entrance. Spots lovely and damp, +circles of ferny grass beneath elms offered themselves. At last, as to +patience always, appeared the place of wisest choice. A little stream, +the Ragmuff, entered the Penobscot. "Why Ragmuff?" thought we, insulted. +Just below its mouth two spruces were _propylaea_ to a little glade, our +very spot. We landed. Some hunters had once been there. A skeleton lodge +and frame of poles for drying moose-hides remained. + +Like skilful campaigners, we at once distributed ourselves over our +work. Cancut wielded the axe; I the match-box; Iglesias the _batterie de +cuisine_. Ragmuff drifted one troutling and sundry chubby chub down +to nip our hooks. We re-roofed our camp with its old covering of +hemlock-bark, spreading over a light tent-cover we had provided. The +last glow of twilight dulled away; monitory mists hid the stars. + +Iglesias, as _chef_, with his two _marmitons_, had, meanwhile, been +preparing supper. It was dark when he, the colorist, saw that fire with +delicate touches of its fine brushes had painted all our viands to +perfection. Then, with the same fire stirred to illumination, and +dashing masterly glows upon landscape and figures, the trio partook of +the supper and named it sublime. + +Here follows the _carte_ of the Restaurant Ragmuff,--woodland fare, a +banquet simple, but elegant:-- + + POISSON. + + Truite. Meunier. + + ENTREES. + + Porc frit au naturel. + Cotelettes d'Elan. + + ROTI. + + Tetrao Canadensis + + DESSERT + + Hard-Tack. Fromage. + + VINS. + + Ragmuff blanc. Penobscot mousseux. + The. Chocolat de Bogota. + Petit verre de Cognac. + +At that time I had a temporary quarrel with the frantic nineteenth +century's best friend, tobacco,--and Iglesias, being totally at peace +with himself and the world, never needs anodynes. Cancut, therefore, was +the only cloud-blower. + +We two solaced ourselves with scorning civilization from our +vantage-ground. We were beyond fences, away from the clash of +town-clocks, the clink of town-dollars, the hiss of town-scandals. As +soon as one is fairly in camp and has begun to eat with his fingers, +he is free. He and truth are at the bottom of a well,--a hollow, +fire-lighted cylinder of forest. While the manly man of the woods is +breathing Nature like an Amreeta draught, is it anything less than the +_summum bonum_? + +"Yet some call American life dull." + +"Ay, to dullards!" ejaculated Iglesias. + +Moose were said to haunt these regions. Toward midnight our would-be +moose-hunter paddled about up and down, seeking them and finding not. +The waters were too high. Lily-pads were drowned. There were no moose +looming duskily in the shallows, to be done to death at their banquet. +They were up in the pathless woods, browsing on leaves and deappetizing +with bitter bark. Starlight paddling over reflected stars was +enchanting, but somniferous. We gave up our vain quest and glided softly +home,--already we called it home,--toward the faint embers of our fire. +Then all slept, as only wood-men sleep, save when for moments Cancut's +trumpet-tones sounded alarums, and we others awoke to punch and batter +the snorer into silence. + +In due time, bird and cricket whistled and chirped the reveille. We +sprang from our lair. We dipped in the river and let its gentle friction +polish us more luxuriously than ever did any hair-gloved polisher of +an Oriental bath. Our joints crackled for themselves as we beat the +current. From bath like this comes no unmanly kief, no sensuous, +slumberous, dreamy indifference, but a nervous, intent, keen, joyous +activity. A day of deeds is before us, and we would be doing. + +When we issue from the Penobscot, from our baptism into a new life, we +need no valet for elaborate toilet. Attire is simple, when the woods are +the tiring-room. + +When we had taken off the water and put on our clothes, we +simultaneously thought of breakfast. Like a circle of wolves around the +bones of a banquet, the embers of our fire were watching each other over +the ashes; we had but to knock their heads together and fiery fighting +began. The skirmish of the brands boiled our coffee and fried our pork, +and we embarked and shoved off. A thin blue smoke, floating upward, for +an hour or two, marked our bivouac; soon this had gone out, and the +banks and braes of Ragmuff were lonely as if never a biped had trodden +them. Nature drops back to solitude as easily as man to peace;--how +little this fair globe would miss mankind! + +The Penobscot was all asteam with morning mist. It was blinding the sun +with a matinal oblation of incense. A crew of the profane should not +interfere with such act of worship. Sacrilege is perilous, whoever be +the God. We were instantly punished for irreverence. The first "rips" +came up-stream under cover of the mist, and took us by surprise. As we +were paddling along gently, we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of +a boiling rapid. Gnashing rocks, with cruel foam upon their lips, sprang +out of the obscure, eager to tear us. Great jaws of ugly blackness +snapped about us as if we were introduced into a coterie of crocodiles. +Symplegades clanged together behind; mighty gulfs, below seducing bends +of smooth water, awaited us before. We were in for it. We spun, whizzed, +dashed, leaped, "cavorted;" we did whatever a birch running the gantlet +of whirlpools and breakers may do, except the fatal finality of a +somerset. That we escaped, and only escaped. We had been only reckless, +not audacious; and therefore peril, not punishment, befell us. The rocks +smote our frail shallop; they did not crush it. Foam and spray dashed in +our faces; solid fluid below the crest did not overwhelm us. There we +were, presently, in water tumultuous, but not frantic. There we were, +three men floating in a birch, not floundering in a maelstrom,--on the +water, not under it,--sprinkled, not drowned,--and in a wild wonder how +we got into it and how we got out of it. + +Cancut's paddle guided us through. Unwieldy he may have been in person, +but he could wield his weapon well. And so, by luck and skill, we were +not drowned in the magnificent uproar of the rapid. Success, that +strange stirabout of Providence, accident, and courage, were ours. But +when we came to the next cascading bit, though the mist had now lifted, +we lightened the canoe by two men's avoir-dupois, that it might dance, +and not blunder heavily, might seek the safe shallows, away from the +dangerous bursts of mid-current, and choose passages where Cancut, with +the setting-pole, could let it gently down. So Iglesias and I plunged +through the labyrinthine woods, the stream along. + +Not long after our little episode of buffeting, we shot out again upon +smooth water, and soon, for it is never smooth but it is smoothest, upon +a lake, Chesuncook. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CHESUNCOOK. + + +Chesuncook is a "bulge" of the Penobscot: so much for its topography. It +is deep in the woods, except that some miles from its opening there is +a lumbering-station, with house and barns. In the wilderness, man makes +for man by a necessity of human instinct. We made for the log-houses. +We found there an ex-barkeeper of a certain well-known New-York cockney +coffee-house, promoted into a frontiersman, but mindful still of +flesh-pots. Poor fellow, he was still prouder that he had once tossed +the foaming cocktail than that he could now fell the forest-monarch. +Mixed drinks were dearer to him than pure air. When we entered the long, +low log-cabin, he was boiling doughnuts, as was to be expected. In +certain regions of America every cook who is not baking pork and beans +is boiling doughnuts, just as in certain other gastronomic quarters +_frijoles_ alternate with _tortillas_. + +Doughnuts, like peaches, must be eaten with the dew upon them. Caught as +they come bobbing up in the bubbling pot, I will not say that they are +despicable. Woodsmen and canoemen, competent to pork and beans, can +master also the alternative. The ex-barkeeper was generous with these +brown and glistening langrage-shot, and aimed volley after volley at our +mouths. Nor was he content with giving us our personal fill; into every +crevice of our firkin he packed a pellet of future indigestion. Besides +this result of foraging, we took the hint from a visible cow that milk +might be had. Of this also the ex-barkeeper served us out galore, +sighing that it was not the punch of his metropolitan days. We put our +milk in our tea-pot, and thus, with all the ravages of the past made +good, we launched again upon Chesuncook. + +Chesuncook, according to its quality of lake, had no aid to give us with +current. Paddling all a hot August mid-day over slothful water would +be tame, day-laborer's work. But there was a breeze. Good! Come, kind +Zephyr, fill our red blanket-sail! Cancut's blanket in the bow became a +substitute for Cancut's paddle in the stern. We swept along before the +wind, unsteadily, over Lake Chesuncook, at sea in a bowl,--"rolled to +starboard, rolled to larboard," in our keelless craft. Zephyr only +followed us, mild as he was strong, and strong as he was mild. Had he +been puffy, it would have been all over with us. But the breeze only +sang about our way, and shook the water out of sunny calm. Katahdin to +the North, a fair blue pyramid, lifted higher and stooped forward +more imminent, yet still so many leagues away that his features were +undefined, and the gray of his scalp undistinguishable from the green of +his beard of forest. Every mile, however, as we slid drowsily over the +hot lake, proved more and more that we were not befooled,--Iglesias by +memory, and I by anticipation. Katahdin lost nothing by approach, as +some of the grandees do: as it grew bigger, it grew better. + +Twenty miles, or so, of Chesuncook, of sun-cooked Chesuncook, we +traversed by the aid of our blanket-sail, pleasantly wafted by the +unboisterous breeze. Undrowned, unducked, as safe from the perils of the +broad lake as we had come out of the defiles of the rapids, we landed at +the carry below the dam at the lake's outlet. + +The skin of many a slaughtered varmint was nailed on its shingle, and +the landing-place was carpeted with the fur. Doughnuts, ex-barkeepers, +and civilization at one end of the lake, and here were muskrat-skins, +trappers, and the primeval. Two hunters of moose, in default of their +fern-horned, blubber-lipped game, had condescended to muskrat, and were +making the lower end of Chesuncook fragrant with muskiness. + +It is surprising how hospitable and comrade a creature is man. The +trappers of muskrats were charmingly brotherly. They guided us across +the carry; they would not hear of our being porters. "Pluck the +superabundant huckleberry," said they, "while we, suspending your firkin +and your traps upon the setting-pole, tote them, as the spies of Joshua +toted the grape-clusters of the Promised Land." + +Cancut, for his share, carried the canoe. He wore it upon his head and +shoulders. Tough work he found it, toiling through the underwood, and +poking his way like an elongated and mobile mushroom through the thick +shrubbery. Ever and anon, as Iglesias and I paused, we would be aware of +the canoe thrusting itself above our heads in the covert, and a voice +would come from an unseen head under its shell,--"It's soul-breaking, +carrying is!" + +The portage was short. We emerged from the birchen grove upon the river, +below a brilliant cascading rapid. The water came flashing gloriously +forward, a far other element than the tame, flat stuff we had drifted +slowly over all the dullish hours. Water on the go is nobler than water +on the stand; recklessness may be as fatal as stagnation, but it is more +heroic. + +Presently, over the edge, where the foam and spray were springing up +into sunshine, our canoe suddenly appeared, and had hardly appeared, +when, as if by one leap, it had passed the rapid, and was gliding in the +stiller current at our feet. One of the muskrateers had relieved Cancut +of his head-piece, and shot the lower rush of water. We again embarked, +and, guided by the trappers in their own canoe, paddled out upon Lake +Pepogenus. + + + + +LOUIS LEBEAU'S CONVERSION. + + + Yesterday, while I moved with the languid crowd on the Riva, + Musing with idle eyes on the wide lagoons and the islands, + And on the dim-seen seaward glimmering sails in the distance, + Where the azure haze, like a vision of Indian-Summer, + Haunted the dreamy sky of the soft Venetian December,-- + While I moved unwilled in the mellow warmth of the weather, + Breathing air that was full of Old-World sadness and beauty, + Into my thought came this story of free, wild life in Ohio, + When the land was new, and yet by the Beautiful River + Dwelt the pioneers and Indian hunters and boatmen. + + Pealed from the campanile, responding from island to island, + Bells of that ancient faith whose incense and solemn devotions + Rise from a hundred shrines in the broken heart of the city; + But in my reverie heard I only the passionate voices + Of the people that sang in the virgin heart of the forest. + Autumn was in the land, and the trees were golden and crimson, + And from the luminous boughs of the over-elms and the maples + Tender and beautiful fell the light in the worshippers' faces, + Softer than lights that stream through the saints on the windows of + churches, + While the balsamy breath of the hemlocks and pines by the river + Stole on the winds through the woodland aisles like the breath of a + censer. + Loud the people sang old camp-meeting anthems that quaver + Quaintly yet from lips forgetful of lips that have kissed them: + Loud they sang the songs of the Sacrifice and Atonement, + And of the end of the world, and the infinite terrors of Judgment; + Songs of ineffable sorrow, and wailing compassionate warning + For the generations that hardened their hearts to their Saviour; + Songs of exultant rapture for them that confessed Him and followed, + Bearing His burden and yoke, enduring and entering with Him + Into the rest of His saints, and the endless reward of the blessed. + Loud the people sang: but through the sound of their singing + Brake inarticulate cries and moans and sobs from the mourners, + As the glory of God, that smote the apostle of Tarsus, + Smote them and strewed them to earth like leaves in the breath of the + whirlwind. + + Hushed at last was the sound of the lamentation and singing; + But from the distant hill the throbbing drum of the pheasant + Shook with its heavy pulses the depths of the listening silence, + When from his place arose a white-haired exhorter and faltered: + "Brethren and sisters in Jesus! the Lord hath heard our petitions, + And the hearts of His servants are awed and melted within them,-- + Even the hearts of the wicked are touched by His infinite mercy. + All my days in this vale of tears the Lord hath been with me, + He hath been good to me, He hath granted me trials and patience; + But this hour hath crowned my knowledge of Him and His goodness. + Truly, but that it is well this day for me to be with you, + Now might I say to the Lord,--'I know Thee, my God, in all fulness; + Now let Thy servant depart in peace to the rest Thou hast promised!'" + + Faltered and ceased. And now the wild and jubilant music + Of the singing burst from the solemn profound of the silence, + Surged in triumph and fell, and ebbed again into silence. + + Then from the group of the preachers arose the greatest among them,-- + He whose days were given in youth to the praise of the Saviour,-- + He whose lips seemed touched like the prophet's of old from the altar, + So that his words were flame, and burned to the hearts of his hearers, + Quickening the dead among them, reviving the cold and the doubting. + There he charged them pray, and rest not from prayer while a sinner + In the sound of their voices denied the Friend of the sinner: + "Pray till the night shall fall,--till the stars are faint in the + morning,-- + Yea, till the sun himself be faint in that glory and brightness, + In that light which shall dawn in mercy for penitent sinners." + Kneeling, he led them in prayer, and the quick and sobbing responses + Spake how their souls were moved with the might and the grace of the + Spirit. + Then while the converts recounted how God had chastened and saved + them,-- + Children whose golden locks yet shone with the lingering effulgence + Of the touches of Him who blessed little children forever,-- + Old men whose yearning eyes were dimmed with the far-streaming + brightness + Seen through the opening gates in the heart of the heavenly city,-- + Stealthily through the harking woods the lengthening shadows + Chased the wild things to their nests, and the twilight died into + darkness. + + Now the four great pyres that were placed there to light the encampment, + High on platforms raised above the people, were kindled. + Flaming aloof, as if from the pillar by night in the Desert, + Fell their crimson light on the lifted orbs of the preachers, + On the withered brows of the old men, and Israel's mothers, + On the bloom of youth, and the earnest devotion of manhood, + On the anguish and hope in the tearful eyes of the mourners. + Flaming aloof, it stirred the sleep of the luminous maples + With warm summer-dreams, and faint, luxurious languor. + Near the four great pyres the people closed in a circle, + In their midst the mourners, and, praying with them, the exhorters, + And on the skirts of the circle the unrepentant and scorners,-- + Ever fewer and sadder, and drawn to the place of the mourners, + One after one, by the prayers and tears of the brethren and sisters, + And by the Spirit of God, that was mightily striving within them, + Till at the last alone stood Louis Lebeau, unconverted. + + Louis Lebeau, the boatman, the trapper, the hunter, the fighter, + From the unlucky French of Gallipolis he descended, + Heir to Old-World want and New-World love of adventure. + Vague was the life he led, and vague and grotesque were the rumors + Wherethrough he loomed on the people, the hero of mythical hearsay,-- + Quick of hand and of heart, _insouciant_, generous, Western,-- + Taking the thought of the young in secret love and in envy. + Not less the elders shook their heads and held him for outcast, + Reprobate, roving, ungodly, infidel, worse than a Papist, + With his whispered fame of lawless exploits at St. Louis, + Wild affrays and loves with the half-breeds out on the Osage, + Brawls at New-Orleans, and all the towns on the rivers, + All the godless towns of the many-ruffianed rivers. + Only she that loved him the best of all, in her loving, + Knew him the best of all, and other than that of the rumors. + Daily she prayed for him, with conscious and tender effusion, + That the Lord would convert him. But when her father forbade him + Unto her thought, she denied him, and likewise held him for outcast, + Turned her eyes when they met, and would not speak, though her heart + broke. + + Bitter and brief his logic that reasoned from wrong unto error: + "This is their praying and singing," he said, "that makes you reject + me,-- + You that were kind to me once. But I think my fathers' religion, + With a light heart in the breast, and a friendly priest to absolve one, + Better than all these conversions that only bewilder and vex me, + And that have made man so hard and woman fickle and cruel. + Well, then, pray for my soul, since you would not have spoken to save + me,-- + Yes,--for I go from these saints to my brethren and sisters, the + sinners." + Spake and went, while her faint lips fashioned unuttered entreaties,-- + Went, and came again in a year at the time of the meeting, + Haggard and wan of face, and wasted with passion and sorrow. + Dead in his eyes was the careless smile of old, and its phantom + Haunted his lips in a sneer of restless incredulous mocking. + Day by day he came to the outer skirts of the circle, + Dwelling on her, where she knelt by the white-haired exhorter, her + father, + With his hollow looks, and never moved from his silence. + + Now, where he stood alone, the last of impenitent sinners, + Weeping, old friends and comrades came to him out of the circle, + And with their tears besought him to hear what the Lord had done for + them. + Ever he shook them off, not roughly, nor smiled at their transports. + Then the preachers spake and painted the terrors of Judgment, + And of the bottomless pit, and the flames of hell everlasting. + Still and dark he stood, and neither listened nor heeded: + But when the fervent voice of the while-haired exhorter was lifted, + Fell his brows in a scowl of fierce and scornful rejection. + "Lord, let this soul be saved!" cried the fervent voice of the old man; + "For that the shepherd rejoiceth more truly for one that hath wandered, + And hath been found again, than for all the others that strayed not." + + Out of the midst of the people, a woman old and decrepit, + Tremulous through the light, and tremulous into the shadow, + Wavered toward him with slow, uncertain paces of palsy, + Laid her quivering hand on his arm and brokenly prayed him: + "Louis Lebeau, I closed in death the eyes of your mother. + On my breast she died, in prayer for her fatherless children, + That they might know the Lord, and follow Him always, and serve Him. + Oh, I conjure you, my son, by the name of your mother in glory, + Scorn not the grace of the Lord!" As when a summer-noon's tempest + Breaks in one swift gush of rain, then ceases and gathers + Darker and gloomier yet on the lowering front of the heavens, + So brake his mood in tears, as he soothed her, and stilled her + entreaties, + And so he turned again with his clouded looks to the people. + + Vibrated then from the hush the accents of mournfullest pity,-- + His who was gifted in speech, and the glow of the fires illumined + All his pallid aspect with sudden and marvellous splendor: + "Louis Lebeau," he spake, "I have known you and loved you from + childhood; + Still, when the others blamed you, I took your part, for I knew you. + Louis Lebeau, my brother, I thought to meet you in heaven, + Hand in hand with her who is gone to heaven before us, + Brothers through her dear love! I trusted to greet you and lead you + Up from the brink of the River unto the gates of the City. + Lo! my years shall be few on the earth. Oh, my brother, + If I should die before you had known the mercy of Jesus, + Yea, I think it would sadden the hope of glory within me!" + + Neither yet had the will of the sinner yielded an answer; + But from his lips there broke a cry of unspeakable anguish, + Wild and fierce and shrill, as if some demon within him + Rent his soul with the ultimate pangs of fiendish possession, + And with the outstretched arms of bewildered imploring toward them, + Death-white unto the people he turned his face from the darkness. + + Out of the sedge by the creek a flight of clamorous killdees + Rose from their timorous sleep with piercing and iterant challenge, + Wheeled in the starlight and fled away into distance and silence. + White on the other hand lay the tents, and beyond them glided the river, + Where the broadhorn[A] drifted slow at the will of the current, + And where the boatman listened, and knew not how, as he listened, + Something touched through the years the old lost hopes of his + childhood,-- + Only his sense was filled with low monotonous murmurs, + As of a faint-heard prayer, that was chorused with deeper responses. + + [Footnote A: The old-fashioned flat-boats were so called.] + + Not with the rest was lifted her voice in the fervent responses, + But in her soul she prayed to Him that heareth in secret, + Asking for light and for strength to learn His will and to do it: + "Oh, make me clear to know, if the hope that rises within me + Be not part of a love unmeet for me here, and forbidden! + So, if it be not that, make me strong for the evil entreaty + Of the days that shall bring me question of self and reproaches, + When the unrighteous shall mock, and my brethren and sisters shall + doubt me! + Make me worthy to know Thy will, my Saviour, and do it!" + In her pain she prayed, and at last, through her mute adoration, + Rapt from all mortal presence, and in her rapture uplifted, + Glorified she rose, and stood in the midst of the people, + Looking on all with the still, unseeing eyes of devotion, + Vague, and tender, and sweet, as the eyes of the dead, when we dream + them + Living and looking on us, but they cannot speak, and we cannot: + Knowing only the peril that threatened his soul's unrepentance, + Knowing only the fear and error and wrong that withheld him, + Thinking, "In doubt of me, his soul had perished forever!" + Touched with no feeble shame, but trusting her power to save him, + Through the circle she passed, and straight to the side of her lover,-- + Took his hand in her own, and mutely implored him an instant, + Answering, giving, forgiving, confessing, beseeching him all things,-- + Drew him then with her, and passed once more through the circle + Unto her place, and knelt with him there by the side of her father, + Trembling as women tremble who greatly venture and triumph,-- + But in her innocent breast was the saint's sublime exultation. + + So was Louis converted; and though the lips of the scorner + Spared not in after-years the subtle taunt and derision, + (What time, meeker grown, his heart held his hand from its answer,) + Not the less lofty and pure her love and her faith that had saved him, + Not the less now discerned was her inspiration from heaven + By the people, that rose, and embracing, and weeping together, + Poured forth their jubilant songs of victory and of thanksgiving, + Till from the embers leaped the dying flame to behold them, + And the hills of the river were filled with reverberant echoes,-- + Echoes that out of the years and the distance stole to me hither, + While I moved unwilled in the mellow warmth of the weather,-- + Echoes that mingled and fainted and fell with the fluttering murmurs + In the hearts of the hushing bells, as from island to island + Swooned the sound on the wide lagoons into palpitant silence. + + * * * * * + + +THE DEVELOPMENT AND OVERTHROW OF THE RUSSIAN SERF-SYSTEM. + + +Close upon the end of the fifteenth century, the Muscovite ideas +of Right were subjected to the strong mind of Ivan the Great, and +compressed into a code. + +Therein were embodied the best processes known to his land and time: for +discovering crime, torture and trial by battle; for punishing crime, the +knout and death. + +But hidden in this tough mass was one law of greater import than all +others. Thereby were all peasants forbidden to leave the lands they +were then tilling, except during the eight days before and after Saint +George's day. This provision sprang from Ivan's highest views of justice +and broadest views of political economy; the nobles received it with +plaudits, which have found echoes even in these days;[A] the peasants +received it with no murmurs which History has found any trouble in +drowning. + +[Footnote A: See Gerebtzoff, _Histoire de la Civilisation en Russie_.] + +Just one hundred years later, there sat upon the Muscovite throne, as +_nominal_ Tzar, the weakling Feodor I.; but behind the throne stood, as +_real_ Tzar, hard, strong Boris Godounoff. + +Looking forward to Feodor's death, Boris makes ready to mount the +throne; and he sees--what all other "Mayors of the Palace," climbing +into the places of _faineant_ kings, have seen--that he must link to +his fortunes the fortunes of some strong body in the nation; he breaks, +however, from the general rule among usurpers,--bribing the Church,--and +determines to bribe the nobility. + +The greatest grief of the Muscovite nobles seemed to be that the +peasants could escape from their oppression by the emigration allowed at +Saint George's day. + +Boris saw his opportunity: he cut off the privilege of Saint George's +day; the peasant was fixed to the soil forever. No Russian law ever +_directly_ enslaved the peasantry,[B] but, through this decree of Boris, +the lord who owned the soil came to own the peasants upon it, just as he +owned its immovable boulders and ledges. + +[Footnote B: Haxthausen.] + +To this the peasants submitted, but over this wrong History has not +been able to drown their sighs; their proverbs and ballads make Saint +George's day representative of all ill-luck and disappointment. + +A few years later, Boris made another bid for oligarchic favor. He +issued a rigorous fugitive-serf law, and even wrenched liberty from +certain free peasants who had entered service for wages before his +edicts. This completed the work, and Russia, which never had the +benefits of feudalism, had now fastened upon her feudalism's worst +curse,--a serf-caste bound to the glebe. + +The great waves of wrong which bore serfage into Russia seem to have +moved with a kind of tidal regularity, and the distance between their +crests in those earlier times appears to have been just a hundred +years,--for, again, at the end of the next century, surge over the +nation the ideas of Peter the Great. + +The great good things done by Peter the world knows by heart. The world +knows well how he tore his way out of the fetichism of his time,--how, +despite ignorance and unreason, he dragged his nation after him,--how he +dowered the nation with things and thoughts which transformed it from a +petty Asiatic horde to a great European power. + +And the praise due to this work can never be diminished. Time shall +but increase it; for the world has yet to learn most of the wonderful +details of his activity. We were present a few years since, when one of +those lesser triumphs of his genius was first unfolded. + +It was in that room at the Hermitage--adjoining the Winter Palace--set +apart for the relics of Peter. Our companions were two men noted as +leaders in American industry,--one famed as an inventor, the other famed +as a champion of inventors' rights. + +Suddenly from the inventor,[C] pulling over some old dust-covered +machines in a corner, came loud cries of surprise. The cries were +natural indeed. In that heap of rubbish he had found a lathe for turning +irregular forms, and a screw-cutting engine once used by Peter himself: +specimens of his unfinished work were still in them. They had lain there +unheeded a hundred and fifty years; their principle had died with Peter +and his workmen; and not many years since, they were reinvented in +America, and gave their inventors fame and fortune. At the late Paris +Universal Exposition crowds flocked about an American lathe for copying +statuary; and that lathe was, in principle, identical with this old, +forgotten machine of Peter's. + +[Footnote C: The late Samuel Colt.] + +Yet, though Peter fought so well, and thought so well, he made some +mistakes which hang to this day over his country as bitter curses. For +in all his plan and work to advance the mass of men was one supreme +lack,--lack of any account of the worth and right of the individual man. + +Lesser examples of this are seen in his grim jest at Westminster +Hall,--"What use of so many lawyers? I have but two lawyers in Russia, +and one of those I mean to hang as soon as I return;"--or when, at +Berlin, having been shown a new gibbet, he ordered one of his +servants to be hanged in order to test it;--or, in his reviews and +parade-fights, when he ordered his men to use ball, and to take the +buttons off their bayonets. + +Greater examples are seen in his Battle of Narva, when he threw away an +army to learn his opponent's game,--in his building of St. Petersburg, +where, in draining marshes, he sacrificed a hundred thousand men the +first year. + +But the greatest proof of this great lack was shown in his dealings with +the serf-system. + +Serfage was already recognized in Peter's time as an evil. Peter himself +once stormed forth in protestations and invectives against what he +stigmatized as "selling men like beasts,--separating parents from +children, husbands from wives,--which takes place nowhere else in the +world, and which causes many tears to flow." He declared that a law +should be made against it. Yet it was by his misguided hand that serfage +was compacted into its final black mass of foulness. + +For Peter saw other nations spinning and weaving, and he determined that +Russia should at once spin and weave; he saw other nations forging +iron, and he determined that Russia should at once forge iron. He never +stopped to consider that what might cost little in other lands, as a +natural growth, might cost far too much in Russia, as a forced growth. + +In lack, then, of quick brain and sturdy spine and strong arm of paid +workmen, he forced into his manufactories the flaccid muscle of serfs. +These, thus lifted from the earth, lost even the little force in the +State they before had; great bodies of serfs thus became slaves; worse +than that, the idea of a serf developed toward the idea of a slave.[D] + +[Footnote D: Haxthausen, _Etudes sur la Situation Interieure_, etc., _de +la Russie._] + +And Peter, misguided, dealt one blow more. Cold-blooded officials were +set at taking the census. These adopted easy classifications; free +peasants, serfs, and slaves were often huddled into the lists under +a single denomination. So serfage became still more difficult to be +distinguished from slavery.[E] + +[Footnote E: Gurowski,--also Wolowski in _Revue des Deux Mondes_.] + +As this base of hideous wrong was thus widened and deepened, the +nobles built higher and stronger their superstructure of arrogance and +pretension. Not many years after Peter's death, they so over-awed the +Empress Anne that she thrust into the codes of the Empire statutes which +allowed the nobles to sell serfs apart from the soil. So did serfage +bloom _fully_ into slavery. + +But in the latter half of the eighteenth century Russia gained a ruler +from whom the world came to expect much. + +To mount the throne, Catharine II. had murdered her husband; to keep the +throne, she had murdered two claimants whose title was better than +her own. She then became, with her agents in these horrors, a second +Messalina. + +To set herself right in the eyes of Europe, she paid eager court to +that hierarchy of skepticism which in that age made or marred European +reputations. She flattered the fierce Deists by owning fealty to "_Le +Roi Voltaire_;" she flattered the mild Deists by calling in La Harpe +as the tutor of her grandson; she flattered the Atheists by calling in +Diderot as a tutor for herself. + +Her murders and orgies were soon forgotten in the new hopes for Russian +regeneration. Her dealings with Russia strengthened these hopes. The +official style required that all persons presenting petitions should +subscribe themselves "Your Majesty's humble serf." This formula she +abolished, and boasted that she had cast out the word serf from the +Russian language. Poets and philosophers echoed this boast over Europe, +--and the serfs waited. + +The great Empress spurred hope by another movement. She proposed to +an academy the question of serf-emancipation as a subject for their +prize-essay. The essay was written and crowned. It was filled with +beautiful things about liberty, practical things about moderation, +flattering things about "the Great Catharine,"--and the serfs waited. + +Again she aroused hope. It was given out that her most intense delight +came from the sight of happy serfs and prosperous villages. Accordingly, +in her journey to the Crimea, Potemkin squandered millions on millions +in rearing pasteboard villages,--in dragging forth thousands of wretched +peasants to fill them,--in costuming them to look thrifty,--in training +them to look happy. Catharine was rejoiced,--Europe sang paeans,--the +serfs waited.[F] + +[Footnote F: For further growth of the sentimental fashion thus set, see +_Memoirs of the Princess Daschkaw_, Vol. I. p. 383.] + +She seemed to go farther: she issued a decree prohibiting the +enslavement of serfs. But, unfortunately, the palace-intrigues, and the +correspondence with the philosophers, and the destruction of Polish +nationality left her no time to see the edict carried out. But Europe +applauded,--and the serfs waited. + +Two years after this came a deed which put an end to all this +uncertainty. An edict was prepared, ordering the peasants of Little +Russia to remain forever on the estates where the day of publication +should find them. This was vile; but what followed was diabolic. +Court-pets were let into the secret. These, by good promises, enticed +hosts of peasants to their estates. The edict was now sprung;--in an +hour the courtiers were made rich, the peasants were made serfs, and +Catharine II. was made infamous forever. + +So, about a century after Peter, there rolled over Russia a wave of +wrong which not only drowned honor in the nobility, but drowned hope in +the people. + +As Russia entered the nineteenth century, the hearts of earnest men must +have sunk within them. For Paul I., Catharine's son and successor, was +infinitely more despotic than Catharine, and infinitely less restrained +by public opinion. He had been born with savage instincts, and educated +into ferocity. Tyranny was written on his features, in his childhood. If +he remained in Russia, his mother sneered and showed hatred to him; if +he journeyed in Western Europe, crowds gathered about his coach to jeer +at his ugliness. Most of those who have seen Gillray's caricature +of him, issued in the height of English spite at Paul's homage to +Bonaparte, have thought it hideously overdrawn; but those who have seen +the portrait of Paul in the Cadet-Corps at St. Petersburg know well +that Gillray did not exaggerate Paul's ugliness, for he could not. + +And Paul's face was but a mirror of his character. Tyranny was wrought +into his every fibre. He insisted on an Oriental homage. As his carriage +whirled by, it was held the duty of all others in carriages to stop, +descend into the mud, and bow themselves. Himself threw his despotism +into this formula,--"Know, Sir Ambassador, that in Russia there is +no one noble or powerful except the man to whom I speak, and while I +speak." + +And yet, within that hideous mass glowed some sparks of reverence +for right. When the nobles tried to get Paul's assent to more open +arrangements for selling serfs apart from the soil, he utterly refused; +and when they overtasked their human chattels, Paul made a law that no +serf should be required to give more than three days in the week to the +tillage of his master's domain. + +But, within five years after his accession, Paul had developed into such +a ravenous wild-beast that it became necessary to murder him. This duty +done, there came a change in the spirit of Russian sovereignty as from +March to May; but, sadly for humanity, there came, at the same time, a +change in the spirit of European politics as from May to March. + +For, although the new Tzar, Alexander I., was mild and liberal, the +storm of French ideas and armies had generally destroyed in monarchs' +minds any poor germs of philanthropy which had ever found lodgment +there. Still Alexander breasted this storm,--found time to plan for +his serfs, and in 1803 put his hand to the work of helping them toward +freedom. His first edict was for the creation of the class of "free +laborers." By this, masters and serfs were encouraged to enter into +an arrangement which was to put the serf into immediate possession +of himself, of a homestead, and of a few acres,--giving him time to +indemnify his master by a series of payments. Alexander threw his heart +into this scheme; in his kindliness he supposed that the pretended +willingness of the nobles meant something; but the serf-owning caste, +without openly opposing, twisted up bad consequences with good, braided +impossibilities into possibilities: the whole plan became a tangle, and +was thrown aside. + +The Tzar now sought to foster other good efforts, especially those made +by some earnest nobles to free their serfs by will. But this plan, also, +the serf-owning caste entangled and thwarted. + +At last, the storm of war set in with such fury that all internal +reforms must be lost sight of. Russia had to make ready for those +campaigns in which Napoleon gained every battle. Then came that peaceful +meeting on the raft at Tilsit,--worse for Russia than any warlike +meeting; for thereby Napoleon seduced Alexander, for years, from plans +of bettering his Empire into dreams of extending it. + +Coming out of these dreams, Alexander had to deal with such realities +as the burning of Moscow, the Battle of Leipsic, and the occupation of +France; yet, in the midst of those fearful times,--when the grapple of +the Emperors was at the fiercest,--in the very year of the burning of +Moscow,--Alexander rose in calm statesmanship, and admitted Bessarabia +into the Empire under a proviso which excluded serfage forever. + +Hardly was the great European tragedy ended, when Alexander again turned +sorrowfully toward the wronged millions of his Empire. He found that +progress in civilization had but made the condition of the serfs worse. +The newly ennobled _parvenus_ were worse than the old _boyars_; they +hugged the serf-system more lovingly and the serfs more hatefully.[G] + +[Footnote G: For proofs of this see Haxthausen.] + +The sight of these wrongs roused him. He seized a cross, and swore upon +it that the serf-system should be abolished. + +Straightway a great and good plan was prepared. Its main features were, +a period of transition from serfage to personal liberty, extending +through twelve or fourteen years,--the arrival of the serf at personal +freedom, with ownership of his cabin and the bit of land attached to +it,--the gradual reimbursement of masters by serfs,--and after this +advance to _personal_ liberty, an advance by easy steps to a sort of +_political_ liberty. + +Favorable as was this plan to the serf-owners, they attacked it in +various ways; but they could not kill it utterly. Esthonia, Livonia, and +Courland became free. + +Having failed to arrest the growth of freedom, the serf-holding caste +made every effort to blast the good fruits of freedom. In Courland they +were thwarted; in Esthonia and Livonia they succeeded during many years; +but the eternal laws were too strong for them, and the fruitage of +liberty has grown richer and better. + +After these good efforts, Alexander stopped, discouraged. A few +patriotic nobles stood apart from their caste, and strengthened his +hands, as Lafayette and Liancourt strengthened Louis XVI.; they even +drew up a plan of voluntary emancipation, formed an association for the +purpose, gained many signatures; but the great weight of that besotted +serf-owning caste was thrown against them, and all came to nought. +Alexander was at last walled in from the great object of his ambition. +Pretended theologians built, between him and emancipation, walls of +Scriptural interpretation,[H]--pretended philosophers built walls of +false political economy,--pretended statesmen built walls of sham +common-sense. + +[Footnote H: Gurowski says that they used brilliantly "Cursed be +Canaan," etc.] + +If the Tzar could but have mustered courage to _cut_ the knot! Alas for +Russia and for him, he wasted himself in efforts to _untie_ it. His +heart sickened at it; he welcomed death, which alone could remove him +from it. + +Alexander's successor, Nicholas I., had been known before his accession +as a mere martinet, a good colonel for parade-days, wonderful in +detecting soiled uniforms, terrible in administering petty punishments. +It seems like the story of stupid Brutus over again. Altered +circumstances made a new man of him; and few things are more strange +than the change wrought in his whole bearing and look by that week of +agony and energy in climbing his brother's throne. The portraits of +Nicholas the Grand Duke and Nicholas the Autocrat seem portraits of two +different persons. The first face is averted, suspicious, harsh, with +little meaning and less grandeur; the second is direct, commanding, not +unkind, every feature telling of will to crush opposition, every line +marking sense of Russian supremacy. + +The great article of Nicholas's creed was a complete, downright faith in +Despotism, and in himself as Despotism's apostle. + +Hence he hated, above all things, a limited monarchy. He told De Custine +that a pure monarchy or pure republic he could understand; but that +anything between these he could _not_ understand. Of his former rule of +Poland, as constitutional monarch, he spoke with loathing. + +Of this hate which Nicholas felt for liberal forms of government there +yet remain monuments in the great museum of the Kremlin. + +That museum holds an immense number of interesting things, and masses +of jewels and plate which make all other European collections mean. The +visitor wanders among clumps of diamonds, and sacks of pearls, and a +nauseating wealth of rubies and sapphires and emeralds. There rise row +after row of jewelled scymitars, and vases and salvers of gold, and old +saddles studded with diamonds, and with stirrups of gold,--presents of +frightened Asiatic satraps or fawning European allies. + +There, too, are the crowns of Muscovy, of Russia, of Kazan, of +Astrachan, of Siberia, of the Crimea, and, pity to say it, of Poland. +And next this is an index of despotic hate,--for the Polish sceptre is +broken and flung aside. + +Near this stands the full-length portrait of the first Alexander; and at +his feet are grouped captured flags of Hungary and Poland,--some with +blood-marks still upon them. + +But below all,--far beneath the feet of the Emperor,--in dust +and ignominy and on the floor, is flung the very Constitution of +Poland--parchment for parchment, ink for ink, good promise for good +promise--which Alexander gave with so many smiles, and which Nicholas +took away with so much bloodshed. + +And not far from this monument of the deathless hate Nicholas bore that +liberty he had stung to death stands a monument of his admiration for +straightforward tyranny, even in the most dreaded enemy his house ever +knew. Standing there is a statue in the purest of marble,--the only +statue in those vast halls. It has the place of honor. It looks proudly +over all that glory, and keeps ward over all that treasure; and that +statue, in full majesty of imperial robes and bees and diadem and face, +is of the first Napoleon. Admiration of his tyrannic will has at last +made him peaceful sovereign of the Kremlin. + +This spirit of absolutism took its most offensive form in Nicholas's +attitude toward Europe. He was the very incarnation of reaction against +revolution, and he became the demigod of that horde of petty despots who +infest Central Europe. + +Whenever, then, any tyrant's lie was to be baptized, he stood its +godfather; whenever any God's truth was to be crucified, he led on +those who passed by reviling and wagging their heads. Whenever these +oppressors revived some old feudal wrong, Nicholas backed them in the +name of Religion; whenever their nations struggled to preserve some +great right, Nicholas crushed them in the name of Law and Order. With +these pauper princes his children intermarried, and he fed them with his +crumbs, and clothed them with scraps of his purple. The visitor can +see to-day, in every one of their dwarf palaces, some of his malachite +vases, or porcelain bowls, or porphyry columns. + +But the _people_ of Western Europe distrusted him as much as their +rulers worshipped; and some of these same presents to their rulers have +become trifle-monuments of no mean value in showing that popular idea +of Russian policy. Foremost among these stand those two bronze masses +of statuary in front of the Royal Palace at Berlin,--representing fiery +horses restrained by strong men. Pompous inscriptions proclaim these +presents from Nicholas; but the people, knowing the man and his +measures, have fastened forever upon one of these curbed steeds the name +of "Progress Checked," and on the other, "Retrogression Encouraged." + +And the people were right. Whether sending presents to gladden his +Prussian pupil, or sending armies to crush Hungary, or sending sneering +messages to plague Louis Philippe, he remained proud in his apostolate +of Absolutism. + +This pride Nicholas never relaxed. A few days before his self-will +brought him to his death-bed, we saw him ride through the St. Petersburg +streets with no pomp and no attendants, yet in as great pride as ever +Despotism gave a man. At his approach, nobles uncovered and looked +docile, soldiers faced about and became statues, long-bearded peasants +bowed to the ground with the air of men on whose vision a miracle +flashes. For there was one who could make or mar all fortunes,--the +absolute owner of street and houses and passers-by,--one who owned the +patent and dispensed the right to tread that soil, to breathe that air, +to be glorified in that sunlight and amid those snow-crystals. And he +looked it all. Though at that moment his army was entrapped by military +stratagem, and he himself was entrapped by diplomatic stratagem, that +face and form were proud as ever and confident as ever. + +There was, in this attitude toward Europe,--in this standing forth +as the representative man of Absolutism, and breasting the nineteenth +century,--something of greatness; but in his attitude toward Russia this +greatness was wretchedly diminished. + +For, as Alexander I. was a good man enticed out of goodness by the baits +of Napoleon, Nicholas was a great man scared out of greatness by the +ever-recurring phantom of the French Revolution. + +In those first days of his reign, when he enforced loyalty with +grape-shot and halter, Nicholas dared much and stood firm; but his +character soon showed another side. + +Fearless as he was before bright bayonets, he was an utter coward before +bright ideas. He laughed at the flash of cannon, but he trembled at the +flash of a new living thought. Whenever, then, he attempted a great +thing for his nation, he was sure to be scared back from its completion +by fear of revolution. And so, to-day, he who looks through Russia for +Nicholas's works finds a number of great things he has done, but each is +single, insulated,--not preceded logically, not followed effectively. + +Take, as an example of this, his railway-building. + +His own pride and Russian interest demanded railways. He scanned the +world with that keen eye of his,--saw that American energy was the best +supplement to Russian capital; his will darted quickly, struck afar, and +Americans came to build his road from St. Petersburg to Moscow. + +Nothing can be more complete. It is an "air-line" road, and so perfect +that the traveller finds few places where the rails do not meet on +either side of him in the horizon. The track is double,--the rails very +heavy and admirably ballasted,--station-houses and engine-houses are +splendid in build, perfect in arrangement, and surrounded by neat +gardens. The whole work is worthy of the Pyramid-builders. The +traveller is whirled by culverts, abutments, and walls of dressed +granite,--through cuttings where the earth on either side is carefully +paved or turfed to the summit. Ranges of Greek columns are reared as +crossings in the midst of broad marshes,--lions' heads in bronzed iron +stare out upon vast wastes where never rose even the smoke from a serf's +kennel. + +All this seems good; and a ride of four hundred miles through such +glories rarely fails to set the traveller at chanting the praises of the +Emperor who conceived them. But when the traveller notes that complete +isolation of the work from all conditions necessary to its success, his +praises grow fainter. He sees that Nicholas held back from continuing +the road to Odessa, though half the money spent in making the road an +Imperial plaything would have built a good, solid extension to that +most important seaport; he sees that Nicholas dared not untie +police-regulations, and that commerce is wretchedly meagre. Contrary to +what would obtain under a free system, this great public work found the +country wretched and left it wretched. The traveller flies by no ranges +of trim palings and tidy cottages; he sees the same dingy groups of huts +here as elsewhere,--the same cultivation looking for no morrow,--the +same tokens that the laborer is _not_ thought worthy of his hire. + +This same tendency to great single works, this same fear of great +connected systems, this same timid isolation of great creations from +principles essential to their growth is seen, too, in Nicholas's +church-building. + +Foremost of all the edifices on which Nicholas lavished the wealth of +the Empire stands the Isak Church in St. Petersburg. It is one of the +largest, and certainly the richest, cathedral in Christendom. All is +polished pink granite and marble and bronze. On all sides are double +rows of Titanic columns,--each a single block of polished granite with +bronze capital. Colossal masses of bronze statuary are grouped over each +front; high above the roof and surrounding the great drums of the domes +are lines of giant columns in granite bearing giant statues in bronze; +and crowning all rises the vast central dome, flanked by its four +smaller domes, all heavily plated with gold. + +The church within is one gorgeous mass of precious marbles and mosaics +and silver and gold and jewels. On the tabernacle of the altar, in +gold and malachite, on the screen of the altar, with its pilasters of +_lapis-lazuli_ and its range of malachite columns fifty feet high, were +lavished millions on millions. Bulging from the ceilings are massy +bosses of Siberian porphyry and jasper. To decorate the walls with +unfading pictures, Nicholas founded an establishment for mosaic work, +where sixty pictures were commanded, each demanding, after all artistic +labor, the mechanical labor of two men for four years. + +Yet this vast work is not so striking a monument of Nicholas's luxury as +of his timidity. + +For this cathedral and some others almost as grand were, in part, at +least, results of the deep wish of Nicholas to wean his people from +their semi-idolatrous love for dark, confined, filthy sanctuaries, like +those of Moscow; but here, again, is a timid purpose and half-result; +Nicholas dared set no adequate enginery working at the popular religious +training or moral training. There had been such an organization,--the +Russian Bible Society,--favored by the first Alexander; but Nicholas +swept it away at one pen-stroke. Evidently, he feared lest Scriptural +denunciations of certain sins in ancient politics might be popularly +interpreted against certain sins in modern politics. + +It was this same vague fear at revolutionary remembrance which thwarted +Nicholas in all his battling against official corruption. + +The corruption-system in Russia is old, organized, and respectable. +Stories told of Russian bribes and thefts exceed belief only until one +has been on the ground. + +Nicholas began well. He made an Imperial progress to Odessa,--was +welcomed in the morning by the Governor in full pomp and robes and +flow of smooth words; and at noon the same Governor was working in the +streets, with ball and chain, as a convict. + +But against such a chronic moral evil no government is so weak as your +so-called "_strong_" government. Nicholas set out one day for the +Cronstadt arsenals, to look into the accounts there; but before he +reached them, stores, storehouses, and account-books were in ashes. + +So, at last, Nicholas folded his arms and wrestled no more. For, apart +from the trouble, there came ever in his dealings with thieves that +old timid thought of his, that, if he examined too closely their +thief-tenure, they might examine too closely his despot-tenure. + +We have shown this vague fear in Nicholas's mind, thus at length and in +different workings, because thereby alone can be grasped the master-key +to his dealings with the serf-system. + +Toward his toiling millions Nicholas always showed sympathy. Let news +of a single wrong to a serf get through the hedges about the Russian +majesty, and woe to the guilty master! Many of these wrongs came +to Nicholas's notice; and he came to hate the system, and tried to +undermine it. + +Opposition met him, of course,--not so much the ponderous laziness of +Peter's time as an opposition polite and elastic, which never ranted and +never stood up,--for then Nicholas would have throttled it and stamped +upon it. But it did its best to entangle his reason and thwart his +action. + +He was told that the serfs were well fed, well housed, well clothed, +well provided with religion,--were contented, and had no wish to leave +their owners. + +Now Nicholas was not strong at spinning sham reason nor subtle at +weaving false conscience; but, to his mind, the very fact that the +system had so degraded a man that he could laugh and dance and sing, +while other men took his wages and wife and homestead, was the crowning +argument _against_ the system. + +Then the political economists beset him, proving that without forced +labor Russia must sink into sloth and poverty.[I] + +[Footnote I: For choice specimens of these reasonings, see Von Erman, +_Archiv fuer Wissenschaftliche Kunde von Russland_.] + +Yet all this could not shut out from Nicholas's sight the great black +_fact_ in the case. He saw, and winced as he saw, that, while other +European nations, even under despots, were comparatively active and +energetic, his own people were sluggish and stagnant,--that, although +great thoughts and great acts were towering in the West, there were in +Russia, after all his galvanizing, no great authors, or scholars, or +builders, or inventors, but only those two main products of Russian +civilization,--dissolute lords and abject serfs. + +But what to do? Nicholas tried to help his Empire by setting right any +individual wrongs whose reports broke their way to him. + +Nearly twenty years went by in this timid dropping of grains of salt +into a putrid sea. + +But at last, in 1842, Nicholas issued his ukase creating the class of +"contracting peasants." Masters and serfs were empowered to enter into +contracts,--the serf receiving freedom, the master receiving payment in +instalments. + +It was a moderate innovation, _very_ moderate,--nothing more than the +first failure of the first Alexander. Yet, even here, that old timidity +of Nicholas nearly spoiled what little good was hidden in the ukase. +Notice after notice was given to the serf-owners that they were not to +be molested, that no emancipation was contemplated, and that the ukase +"contained nothing new." + +The result was as feeble as the policy. A few serfs were emancipated, +and Nicholas halted. The revolutions of 1848 increased his fear of +innovation; and, finally, the war in the Crimea took from him the power +of innovation. + +The great man died. We saw his cold, dead face, in the midst of crowns +and crosses,--very pale then, very powerless then. One might stare at +him then, as at a serf's corpse; for he who had scared Europe during +thirty years lay before us that day as a poor lump of chilled brain and +withered muscle. + +And we stood by, when, amid chanting, and flare of torches, and roll of +cannon, his sons wrapped him in his shroud of gold-thread, and lowered +him into the tomb of his fathers. + +But there was shown in those days far greater tribute than the prayers +of bishops or the reverence of ambassadors. Massed about the Winter +Palace, and the Fortress of Peter and Paul, stood thousands on thousands +who, in far-distant serf-huts, had put on their best, had toiled wearily +to the capital, to give their last mute thanks to one who for years had +stood between their welfare and their owners' greed. Sad that he had not +done more. Yet they knew that he had _wished_ their freedom,--that he +had loathed their wrongs: for _that_ came up the tribute of millions. + +The new Emperor, Alexander II., had never been hoped for as one who +could light the nation from his brain: the only hope was that he might +warm the nation, somewhat, from his heart. He was said to be of a weak, +silken fibre. The strength of the family was said to be concentrated in +his younger brother Constantine. + +But soon came a day when the young Tzar revealed to Europe not merely +kindliness, but strength. + +While his father's corpse was yet lying within his palace, he received +the diplomatic body. As the Emperor entered the audience-room, he seemed +feeble indeed for such a crisis. That fearful legacy of war seemed to +weigh upon his heart; marks of plenteous tears were upon his face; +Nesselrode, though old and bent and shrunk in stature, seemed stronger +than his young master. + +But, as he began his speech, it was seen that a strong man had mounted +the throne. + +With earnestness he declared that he sorrowed over the existing +war,--but that, if the Holy Alliance had been broken, it was not through +the fault of Russia. With bitterness he turned toward the Austrian +Minister, Esterhazy, and hinted at Russian services in 1848 and Austrian +ingratitude. Calmly, then, not as one who spoke a part, but as one who +announced a determination, he declared,--"I am anxious for peace; but if +the terms at the approaching congress are incompatible with the honor of +my nation, I will put myself at the head of my faithful Russia and die +sooner than yield."[J] + +[Footnote J: This sketch is given from notes taken at the audience.] + +Strong as Alexander showed himself by these words, he showed himself +stronger by acts. A policy properly mingling firmness and conciliation +brought peace to Europe, and showed him equal to his father; a policy +mingling love of liberty with love of order brought the dawn of +prosperity to Russia, and showed him the superior of his father. + +The reforms now begun were not stinted, as of old, but free and hearty. +In rapid succession were swept away restrictions on telegraphic +communication,--on printing,--on the use of the Imperial Library,--on +strangers entering the country,--on Russians leaving the country. A +policy in public works was adopted which made Nicholas's greatest +efforts seem petty: a vast net-work of railways was commenced. A policy +in commercial dealings with Western Europe was adopted, in which +Alexander, though not apparently so imposing as Nicholas, was really far +greater: he dared advance toward freedom of trade. + +But soon rose again that great problem of old,--that problem ever +rising to meet a new Autocrat, and, at each appearance, more dire than +before,--the serf-question. + +The serfs in private hands now numbered more than twenty millions; above +them stood more than a hundred thousand owners. + +The princely strength of the largest owners was best represented by a +few men possessing over a hundred thousand serfs each, and, above all, +by Count Scheremetieff, who boasted three hundred thousand. The luxury +of the large owners was best represented by about four thousand men +possessing more than a thousand serfs each. The pinching propensities +of the small owners were best represented by nearly fifty thousand men +possessing less than twenty serfs each.[K] + +[Footnote K: Gerebtzoff, _Histoire de la Civilisation en +Russie_,--Wolowski, in _Revue des Deux Mondes_,--and Tegoborski, +_Commentaries on the Productive Forces of Russia_, Vol. I. p. 221.] + +The serfs might be divided into two great classes. The first comprised +those working under the old, or _corvee_, system,--giving, generally, +three days in the week to the tillage of the owner's domain; the second +comprised those working under the new, or _obrok_, system,--receiving +a payment fixed by the owner and assessed by the community to which the +serfs belonged. + +The character of the serfs has been moulded by the serf-system. + +They have a simple shrewdness, which, under a better system, had made +them enterprising; but this quality has degenerated into cunning and +cheatery,--the weapons which the hopelessly oppressed always use. + +They have a reverence for things sacred, which, under a better system, +might have given the nation a strengthening religion; but they now stand +among the most religious peoples on earth, and among the least moral. To +the besmutted picture of Our Lady of Kazan they are ever ready to burn +wax and oil; to Truth and Justice they constantly omit the tribute of +mere common honesty. They keep the Church fasts like saints; they keep +the Church feasts like satyrs. + +They have a curiosity, which, under a better system, had made them +inventive; but their plough in common use is behind the plough described +by Virgil. + +They have a love of gain, which, under a better system, had made them +hard-working; but it takes ten serfs to do languidly and poorly what +two free men in America do quickly and well. + +They are naturally a kind people; but let one example show how serfage +can transmute kindness. + +It is a rule well known in Russia, that, when an accident occurs, +interference is to be left to the police. Hence you shall see a man +lying in a fit, and the bystanders giving no aid, but waiting for the +authorities. + +Some years since, as all the world remembers, a theatre took fire in St. +Petersburg, and crowds of people were burned or stifled. The whole story +is not so well known. That theatre was but a great temporary wooden +shed,--such as is run up every year at the holidays, in the public +squares. When the fire burst forth, crowds of peasants hurried to the +spot; but though they heard the shrieks of the dying,--separated from +them only by a thin planking,--only one man, in all that multitude, +dared cut through and rescue some of the sufferers. + +The serfs, when standing for great ideas, will die rather than yield. +The first Napoleon learned this at Eylau,--the third Napoleon learned +it at Sevastopol; yet in daily life they are slavish beyond belief. On +a certain day in the year 1855, the most embarrassed man in all the +Russias was, doubtless, our excellent American Minister. The +serf-coachman employed at wages was called up to receive his discharge for +drunkenness. Coming into the presence of a sound-hearted American +democrat, who had never dreamed of one mortal kneeling to another, Ivan +throws himself on his knees, presses his forehead to the Minister's +feet, fawns like a tamed beast, and refuses to move until the Minister +relieves himself from this nightmare of servility by a full pardon. + +The whole working of the system has been fearful. + +Time after time, we have entered the serf field and serf hut,--have +seen the simple round of serf toils and sports,--have heard the simple +chronicles of serf joys and sorrows. But whether his livery were filthy +sheepskin or gold-laced caftan,--whether he lay on carpets at the door +of his master, or in filth on the floor of his cabin,--whether he gave +us cold, stupid stories of his wrongs, or flippant details of his +joys,--whether he blessed his master or cursed him,--we have wondered at +the power which a serf-system has to degrade and imbrute the image of +God. + +But astonishment was increased a thousand fold at study of the reflex +influence for evil upon the serf-owners themselves,--upon the whole +free community,--upon the very soil of the whole country. + +On all those broad plains of Russia, on the daily life of that +serf-owning aristocracy, on the whole class which is neither of serfs +nor serf-owners, the curse of God is written in letters so big and so +black that all mankind may read them. + +Farms are untilled, enterprise deadened, invention crippled, +education neglected; life is of little value; labor is the badge of +servility,--laziness the very badge and passport of gentility. + +Despite the most specious half-measures,--despite all efforts to +galvanize it, to coax life into it, to sting life into it, the nation +has remained stagnant. Not one traveller who does not know that the +evils brought on that land by the despotism of the Autocrat are as +nothing compared to that dark net-work of curses spread over it by a +serf-owning aristocracy. + +Into the conflict with this evil Alexander II. entered manfully. + +Having been two years upon the throne, having made a plan, having +stirred some thought through certain authorized journals, he inspires +the nobility in three of the northwestern provinces to memorialize him +in regard to emancipation. + +Straightway an answer is sent, conveying the outlines of the Emperor's +plan. The period of transition from serfage to freedom is set at twelve +years; at the end of that time the serf is to be fully free, and +possessor of his cabin, with an adjoining piece of land. The provincial +nobles are convoked to fill out these outlines with details as to the +working out by the serfs of a fair indemnity to their masters. + +The whole world is stirred; but that province in which the Tzar hoped +most eagerly for a movement to meet him--the province where beats the +old Muscovite heart, Moscow--is stirred least of all. Every earnest +throb seems stifled there by that strong aristocracy. + +Yet Moscow moves at last. Some nobles who have not yet arrived at the +callous period, some Professors in the University who have not yet +arrived at the heavy period, breathe life into the mass, drag on the +timid, fight off the malignant. + +The movement has soon a force which the retrograde party at Moscow dare +not openly resist. So they send answers to St. Petersburg apparently +favorable; but wrapped in their phrases are hints of difficulties, +reservations, impossibilities. + +All this studied suggestion of difficulties profits the reactionists +nothing. They are immediately informed that the Imperial mind is made +up,--that the business of the Muscovite nobility is now to arrange that +the serf be freed in twelve years, and put in possession of homestead +and inclosure. + +The next movement of the retrograde party is to _misunderstand_ +everything. The plainest things are found to need a world of +debate,--the simplest things become entangled,--the noble assemblies +play solemnly a ludicrous game at cross-purposes. + +Straightway comes a notice from the Emperor, which, stripped of official +verbiage, says that they _must_ understand. This sets all in motion +again. Imperial notices are sent to province after province, explanatory +documents are issued, good men and strong are set to talk and work. + +The nobility of Moscow now make another move. To scare back the +advancing forces of emancipation, they elect as provincial leaders three +nobles bearing the greatest names of old Russia, and haters of the new +ideas. + +To defeat these comes a miracle. + +There stands forth a successor of Saint Gregory and Saint Bavon,--one +who accepts that deep mediaeval thought, that, when God advances +great ideas, the Church must marshal them, or go under,--Philarete, +Metropolitan of Moscow. The Church, as represented in him, is no longer +scholastic,--it is become apostolic. He upholds emancipation,--condemns +its foes; his earnest eloquence carries all. + +The work having progressed unevenly,--nobles in different governments +differing in plan and aim,--an assembly of delegates is brought together +at St Petersburg to combine and perfect a resultant plan under the eye +of the Emperor. + +The Grand Council of the Empire, too, is set at the work. It is a most +unpromising body,--yet the Emperor's will stirs it. + +The opposition now make the most brilliant stroke of their campaign. +Just as James II. of England prated toleration and planned the +enslavement of all thought, so now the bigoted plotters against +emancipation begin to prate of Constitutional Liberty. + +Had they been fighting Nicholas, this would doubtless have accomplished +its purpose. He would have become furious, and in his fury would have +wrecked reform. But Alexander bears right on. It is even hinted that +visions of a constitutional monarchy please him. + +But then come tests of Alexander's strength far more trying. Masses of +peasants, hearing vague news of emancipation,--learning, doubtless, from +their masters' own spiteful lips that the Emperor is endeavoring to tear +away property in serfs,--take the masters at their word, and determine +to help the Emperor. They rise in insurrection. + +To the bigoted serf-owners this is a godsend. They parade it in all +lights; therewith they throw life into all the old commonplaces on the +French Revolution; timid men of good intentions begin to waver. The Tzar +will surely now be scared back. + +Not so. Alexander now hurls his greatest weapon, and stuns reaction in a +moment. He frees all the serfs on the Imperial estates without reserve. +Now it is seen that he is in earnest; the opponents are disheartened; +once more the plan moves and drags them on. + +But there came other things to dishearten the Emperor; and not least of +these was the attitude of those who moulded popular thought in England. + +Be it said here to the credit of France, that from her came constant +encouragement in the great work. Wolowski, Mazade, and other +true-hearted men sent forth from leading reviews and journals words of +sympathy, words of help, words of cheer. + +Not so England. Just as, in the French Revolution of 1789, while yet +that Revolution was noble and good, while yet Lafayette and Bailly held +it, leaders in English thought who had quickened the opinions which +had caused the Revolution sent malignant prophecies and prompted foul +blows,--just as, in this our own struggle, leaders in English thought +who have helped create the opinion which has brought on this struggle +now deal treacherously with us,--so, in this battle of Alexander against +a foul wrong, they seized this time of all times to show all the +wrongs and absurdities of which Russia ever had been or ever might be +guilty,--criticized, carped, sent plentifully haughty advice, depressing +sympathy, malignant prophecy. + +Review-articles, based on no real knowledge of Russia, announced desire +for serf-emancipation,--and then, in the modern English way, with +plentiful pyrotechnics of antithesis and paradox, threw a gloomy light +into the skilfully pictured depths of Imperial despotism, official +corruption, and national bankruptcy. + +They revived Old-World objections, which, to one acquainted with the +most every-day workings of serfage, were ridiculous. + +It was said, that, if the serfs lost the protection of their owners, +they might fall a prey to rapacious officials. As well might it +have been argued that a mother should never loose her son from her +apron-strings. + +It was said that "serfism excludes pauperism,"--that, if the serf owes +work to his owner in the prime of life, the owner owes support to his +serf in the decline of life. No lie could be more absurd to one who had +seen Russian life. We were first greeted, on entering Russia, by a +beggar who knelt in the mud; at Kovno eighteen beggars besieged the +coach,--and Kovno was hardly worse than scores of other towns; within a +day's ride of St. Petersburg a woman begged piteously for means to keep +soul and body together, and finished the refutation of that sonorous +English theory,--for she had been discharged from her master's service +in the metropolis as too feeble, and had been sent back to his domain, +afar in the country, on foot and without money. + +It was said that freed peasants would not work. But, despite volleys +of predictions that they _would_ not work if freed, despite volleys of +assertions that they _could_ not work if freed, the peasants, when set +free, and not crushed by regulations, have sprung to their work with an +earnestness, and continued it with a vigor, at which the philosophers +of the old system stand aghast. The freed peasants of Wologda compare +favorably with any in Europe. + +And when the old tirades had grown stale, English writers drew copiously +from a new source,--from "La Verite sur la Russie,"--pleasingly +indifferent to the fact that the author's praise in a previous work had +notoriously been a thing of bargain and sale, and that there was in full +process of development a train of facts which led the Parisian courts to +find him guilty of demanding in one case a "blackmail" of fifty thousand +roubles.[L] + +[Footnote L: _Proces en Diffamation du Prince Simon Worontzoff contre le +Prince Pierre Dolgornokow_. Leipzig, 1862] + +All this argument outside the Empire helped the foes of emancipation +inside the Empire. + +But the Emperor met the whole body of his opponents with an argument +overwhelming. On the 5th of March, 1861, he issued his manifesto making +the serfs FREE. He had struggled long to make some satisfactory previous +arrangement; his motto now became, Emancipation first, Arrangement +afterward. Thus was the _result_ of the great struggle decided; but, +to this day, the after-arrangement remains undecided. The Tzar offers +gradual indemnity; the nobles seem to prefer fire and blood. Alexander +stands firm; the last declaration brought across the water was that he +would persist in reforms. + +But, whatever the after-process, THE SERFS ARE FREE. + +The career before Russia is hopeful indeed; emancipation of her serfs +has set her fully in that career. The vast mass of her inhabitants are +of a noble breed, combining the sound mind of the Indo-Germanic races +with the tough muscle of the northern plateaus of Asia. In no other +country on earth is there such unity in language, in degree of +cultivation, and in basis of ideas. Absolutely the same dialect is +spoken by lord and peasant, in capital and in province. + +And, to an American thinker, more hopeful still for Russia is the +patriarchal democratic system,--spreading a primary political education +through the whole mass. Leaders of their hamlets and communities +are voted for; bodies of peasants settle the partition of land and +assessments in public meetings; discussions are held; votes are taken; +and though Tzar's right and nobles' right are considered far above +people's right, yet this rude democratic schooling is sure to keep +bright in the people some sparks of manliness and some glow of free +thought. + +In view, too, of many words and acts of the present Emperor, it is +not too much to hope, that, ere many years, Russia will become a +constitutional monarchy. + +So shall Russia be made a power before which all other European powers +shall be pigmies. + +Before the close of the year in which we now stand, there is to be +celebrated at Nijnii-Novogorod the thousandth anniversary of the +founding of Russia. Then is to rise above the domes and spires of that +famed old capital a monument to the heroes of Russian civilization. + +Let the sculptor group about its base Rurik and his followers, who in +rude might hewed out strongholds for the coming nation. Let goodly +place be given to Minime and Pojarski, who drove forth barbarian +invaders,--goodly place also to Platov and Kutusov, who drove forth +civilized invaders. Let there be high-placed niches for Ivan the Great, +who developed order,--for Peter the Great, who developed physical +strength,--for Derjavine and Karamsin, who developed moral and mental +strength. Let Philarete of Moscow stand forth as he stood confronting +with Christ's gospel the traffickers in flesh and blood. In loving care +let there be wrought the face and form of Alexander the First,--the +Kindly. + +But, crowning all, let there lord it a noble statue to the greatest of +Russian benefactors in all these thousand years,--to the Warrior who +restored peace,--to the Monarch who had faith in God's will to make +order, and in man's will to keep order,--to the Christian Patriot who +made forty millions of serfs forty millions of _men_,--to Alexander the +Second,--ALEXANDER THE EARNEST. + + * * * * * + + +MR. AXTELL. + +PART IV. + + +I said that the afternoon sunlight poured its rain into the church-yard. +It was four of the clock when Aaron left me. + +The dream that I had received impression of still dwelt in active +remembrance, and a little fringe from the greater glory mine eyes had +seen went trailing in flows of light along the edge of earth, as if +saying unto it, "Arise and behold what I am!" + +One child habiting earth dared to lift eyes into the awful arch of air, +wherein are laid the foundation-stones of the crystalline wall, and, +beholding drops of Infinite Love, garnered one, and, walking forth with +it in her heart, went into the church-yard,--a regret arising that the +graves that held the columns fallen from the family-corridor had found +so little of place within affection's realm. The regret, growing into +resolution, hastened her steps, that went unto the place devoted to +the dead Percivals. It was in a corner,--the corner wherein grew the +pine-tree of the hills. + +"A peaceful spot of earth," I thought, as I went into the hedged +inclosure, and shut myself in with the gleaming marble, and the +low-hanging evergreens that waved their green arms to ward ill away from +those they had grown up among. "It is long since the ground has been +broken here," I thought,--"so long!" And I looked upon a monumental +stone to find there recorded the latest date of death. It was eighteen +hundred and forty-four,--my mother's,--and I looked about and sought +her grave. The grass seemed crispy and dry. I sat down by this grave. I +leaned over it, and looked into the tangled net-work of dead fibres held +fast by some link of the past to living roots underneath. I plucked some +of them, and in idlest of fancies looked closely to see if deeds or +thoughts of a summer gone had been left upon them. "No! I've had enough +of fancies for one day; I'll have no more to-night," I thought; and I +wished for something to do. I longed for action whereon to imprint my +new impress of resolution. It came in a guise I had not calculated upon. + +"It's very wrong of you to sit upon that damp ground, Miss Percival." + +The words evidently were addressed to me, sitting hidden in among the +evergreens. I looked up and answered,-- + +"It is not damp, Mr. Axtell." + +He was leaning upon the iron railing outside of the hedge. + +"Will you come away from that cold, damp place?" he went on. + +"I'm not ready to leave yet," I said, and never moved. I asked,-- + +"How is your sister since morning?" + +I thought him offended. He made no reply,--only walked away and went +into the church close by. + +"One can never know the next mood that one of these Axtells will take," +I said to myself, in the stillness that followed his going. "He might +have answered me, at least." Then I reproached Anna Percival for +cherishing uncharity towards tried humanity. There's a way appointed +for escape, I know, and I sought it, burying my face in my hands, and +leaning over the stillness of my mother's heart. I heard steps drawing +near. Looking up, I saw Mr. Axtell entering the inclosure. He had +brought one of the church pew-cushions. + +"Will you rise?" he asked. + +He did not bring the cushion to where I was; he carried it around and +spread it in a vacant spot between two graves, the place left beside +my mother for my precious father's white hairs to be laid in. Having +deposited it there, he looked at me, evidently expecting that I would +avail myself of his kindness. I wanted to refuse. I felt perfectly +comfortable where I was. I should have done so, had not my intention +been intercepted by a shaft of expression that crossed my vein of +humor unexpectedly. It was only a look from out of his eyes. They were +absolutely colorless,--not white, not black, but a strange mingling of +all hues made them everything to my view,--and yet so full of coloring +that no one ray came shining out and said, "I'm blue, or black, or +gray;" but something said, if not the mandate of color, "Obey!" + +I did. + +"Sacrilege!" I said. "It is a place for worship." + +"Whose grave is this?" Mr. Axtell asked, as he bent down and laid his +hand upon the sod. It was upon the one next beyond my mother's; between +the two it was that he had placed the cushion. + +"The head-stone is just there. You can read, can you not?" I asked, with +a spice of malice, because for the second time this barbaric gentleman +had commanded me to obey. + +He lifted himself up, leaned against the towering family-monument, and +slowly said,-- + +"Miss Percival, it is very hard for an Axtell to forgive." + +I thought of the face in the Upper Country, and asked,-- + +"Why?" + +"Because the Creator has almost deprived them of forgiving power. Don't +tempt one of them to sin by giving occasion for the exercise of that +wherein they mourn at being deficient." + +I pulled dead grassy fibres again, and said nothing. + +The second time he bent to the mound of earth, and said,-- + +"Please tell me now, Miss Anna, whose grave this is;" and there were +tears in his eyes that made them for the moment grandly brown. + +"Truly, Mr. Axtell, I do not know. I've been so busy with the living that +I've not thought much of this place. It long since all these died, you +know;" and I looked about upon the little village closed in by the iron +railing. "I do not know that I can tell you one, save my mother's, here. +I remember her; the others I cannot." + +I arose to walk around to the headstone and see. + +"No," he said. "Will you listen to me a little while?" + +"If you'll sing for me." + +"Sing for you?"--and there was a world of reproach in his meaning. "Is +this a place for songs? or am I a man to sing?" + +"Why not, Mr. Axtell? Aaron told me that you could sing, if you would; +he has heard you." + +"I will sing for you," he said, "if, after I am done, you choose to hear +the song I sing." + +I thought again of Miss Lettie, and put the question, once unheeded, +concerning her. + +"She is better. Your sister is a charming nurse." + +A long quiet ensued; in it came the memory of Dr. Eaton's interest in +the young girl's face. + +"Is Mr. Axtell an artist?" I asked, after the silence. + +"Mr. Axtell is a church-sexton," was the response. + +"Cannot he be both sexton and artist?" + +"How can he?" + +"You have a strange way of telling me that I ought not to question you," +I said, vexed at his non-committal words and manner. + +He changed the subject widely, when next he spoke. + +"Have you the letter that you picked up last night?" he asked. + +"Yes, Mr. Axtell." + +"Give it to me, please." + +"Did Miss Lettie commission you to ask?" + +"She did not." + +"Then I cannot give it to you." + +"Cannot give me my sister's letter?" + +"It was to _me_ that it was intrusted." + +"And you are afraid to trust me with it?" + +"I am afraid to break the trust reposed in myself." + +Again the black roll of silent thunder gloomed on his brow; as once his +sister's eyes had been, his now were coruscant. + +"Do you refuse to give it to me?" he demanded. + +"I do," I said, "now, and until Miss Lettie says, 'Give.'" + +"You've learned the contents, I presume," he said, with untold sarcasm. +"Woman's curiosity digs deeply, when once aroused." + +"You've been taught of woman in a sad school, I fear. I'll forgive the +faults of your education, Mr. Axtell. Have you any more remarks to me? +I'm waiting." + +"Do you know the contents of the letter that made Lettie so anxious?" + +"You accused me before questioning formerly, or I should have given you +truth. I have no knowledge of what is in the letter." + +He had resumed his former position, leaning against the monument, where +I had mine. He changed it now, drawing nearer for an instant, then went +to the side of the grave that he had asked me concerning, kneeled there, +laid two hands above it, and said,-- + +"Letty was right, Miss Anna. God has made you well,--made you after the +similitude of her who sleeps underneath this sod. Will you forgive my +rudeness?" + +And he looked down as I had done, ere he came, into the tangled, matted +fibres, then out into the great all-where of air, as if some mysterious +presence encompassed him. + +Very lowly I said,-- + +"Forgiveness is of God;" and I remembered the vision that came in my +dream. The little voice that steals into hearts crowded with emotions, +and tells tiny nerves of wish which way to fly, went whispering through +the niches of my mind, "Tell the dream." + +Mr. Axtell went back to his monumental resting-place. I said,-- + +"I have had a wonderful dream to-day;" and I began to tell the opening +thereof. + +The first sentence was not told when I stopped, suddenly. I could not go +on. He asked me, "Why?" I only re-uttered what I felt, that I could not +tell it. + +"Oh! I have had a dream," he said,--"one that for eighteen years has +been hung above my days and woven into my nights,--a great, hopeless +woof of doom. I have tried to broider it with gold, I have tried to hang +silver-bells upon the drooping corners thereof. I have tried to fold it +about me and wear it, as other men wear sorrows, for the sun of heaven +and the warmth of society to draw the wrinkled creases out. I have +striven to fold it up, and lay it by in the arbor-vitae chest of memory, +with myrrh and camphor, but it will not be exorcised. No, no! it hangs +firm as granite, stiff as the axis of the sun, unapproachable as the +aurora of the North. Miss Percival, could you wear such a vestment in +the march of life?" + +"Your dream is too mystical; will you tell me what it has done for you? +As yet, I only know what you have not done with it." + +"What it has done for me?"--and he went slowly on, thinking half aloud, +as if the idea were occurring for the first time. + +"It touched me one soft summer day, before the earth became mildewed and +famine-stricken. I was a proud, wilful Axtell boy; all the family traits +were written with a white-hot pen on me. My will, my great high will, +went ringing chimes of what I would do through the house where I was +born, where my mother has just died, and I swung this right arm forth +into the air of existence, and said, 'I will do what I will; men shall +say I am a master in the land.' + +"My father sent me away from home for education. I walked with intrepid +mind through the course where others halted, weary, overladen, unfit for +burden. + +"To gain the valedictory oration was one goal that I had said I would +attain to. I did. That was nineteen years ago. I came home in the soft, +hot, August-time. It was the close of the month. The moon was at its +highest flood of light. I was at the highest tide of will-might. That +night, if any one had told me I could not do that which I had a wish to +accomplish, I would have made my desire triumphant, or death would have +been my only conqueror. Oh! it is dreadful to have such a nature handed +down from the dark past, and thrust into one's life, to be battled with, +to be hewn down at last, unless the lightning of God's wrath cleaves +into the spirit and wakes up the volcano, which forever after emits only +fire and sulphur. There's yet one way more, after the lightning-stroke +comes,--something unutterable, something that canopies the soul with +doom, and forever the spirit tries to raise its wings and fly away, but +every uplifting strikes fire, until, singed, scorched, burnt, wings grow +useless, and droop down, never more to be uplifted." + +Mr. Axtell drooped his arms, as if typical of the wings he had +described. Borne away by the excitement of his words, he stood straight +up against the far-away sky, with the verdure of Norway-evergreens +soothingly waving their green around him. There was a magnificence of +mien in the man, that made my spirit say-- + +"The Deity made that man for great deeds." + +He glanced down at the grave once more, and resumed:-- + +"I came home that August night. The prairie of Time rolled out limitless +before my imagination. I built pyramids of fame; I laid the foundation +of Babel once more, in my heart,--for I said, 'My name shall touch the +stars,--my name! Abraham Axtell!' It is only written in earth, ground to +powder, to-day." + +"An atom of earth's powder may be a star to eyes vast enough to see the +fulness that dwells therein, until to angelic vision our planet stands +out a universe of starry suns, each particle of dust luminous with +eternities of limitless space between," I said, as he, pausing, stooped, +and stirred the crisp grass, to outline his name there. + +"All things are possible," he murmured, "but the rending of my mantle of +doom." + +He looked from the tracing of his name to the west. + +"The sun is going down once more," he said, and bowed his head, as one +does, waiting for pastoral benediction. His eyes were fixed now, as I +had seen his sister's held, but his lips poured out words. + +"The moonlight sheened the earth, hot and heavy and still, that night. +My father, mother, and Lettie were in the home where you have seen +sorrow come. Up from the sea came the low, hollow boom of surges rising +over the crust of land. + +"'To the sea, to the sea, let us go!' I cried; 'it is the very night to +tread the hall of moonbeams that leads to palace of pearls!' + +"My mother was weary; she would have stayed at home, but I was her pearl +of price; she forgot herself. You know the stream that comes down from +the mountain and empties into the ocean. It was in that stream that +my boat floated, and a long walk away. Lettie left us. Just after we +started, I missed her, and asked where she had gone. + +"'You'll see soon,' replied my mother; and even as I looked back, I +saw Lettie following, with a shadow other than her own falling on the +midsummer grass. She did not hasten; she did not seek to come up with +us. My mother was walking beside me. + +"Thus we came to the river, at the place where it wanders out into the +ocean. I saw my boat, my River-Ribbon, floating its cable-length, but +never more, and undulating to the throbs of tide that pulsated along +the blue vein of water, heralding the motion of the heart outside. We +stopped there. The moon was set in the firmament high and fast, as when +it was made to rule the night. The hall of light, lit up along the +twinkling way of waters, looked shining and beckoning in its wavy ways +of grace, a very home for the restless spirit. I wanted to thread its +labyrinth of sparkles; I wanted to cool my wings of desire in its +phosphorescent dew. I said,-- + +"'I am going out upon the sea.' + +"My mother seemed troubled. + +"' Abraham, the boat is unsafe; the water comes through. See! it is half +full now'; and she pointed to where it lay in the stream, lined with a +mimic portraiture of the endless corridor of moonlight that went playing +across the bit of water it held. + +"'This is childish, this is folly,' I thought, 'to be stayed on such a +_spirit_ mission by a few cups of water in a boat! What shall I ever +accomplish in life, if I yield thus?--and without waiting to more than +half hear, certainly not to obey, my father's stern 'Stay on shore, +Abraham,' I went down the bank, stepped into a bit of a bark, and pushed +it into the stream, where my boat was now rocking on the strengthened +flow of ocean's rise. + +"I came to the boat, bailed out the water with a tin cup that lay +floating inside, and calling back to land, 'Go home without me; do +not wait,' I took the oars, and in my River-Ribbon, set free from its +anchorage, I commenced rowing against the tide. I looked back to the +bank I was fast leaving. I saw figures standing there. + +"'They'll go home soon,' I said, and I turned my eyes steadfastly toward +the sheeny track, all crimpled and curled with fibrous net-work, and +rowed on. + +"It was a glorious night,--a night when one toss of a mermaid's hair, +made visible above the waters, as she flew along the track I was +pursuing, would have been worth a life of rowing against this incoming +tide. + +"You have never tried to row, Miss Anna. You don't know how hard it is +to push a boat out of a river when the sea sends up full veins to course +the strong arms she reaches up into the land." + +For one moment, as he addressed me, his eyes lost their rapt look; they +went back to it, and he to his story. + +"I saw the fin of a shark dancing in the waves. Sharks were nothing +for me. I did not look down into my boat. No, men never do; they look +_beyond where they are_. They're a sorry race, Miss Anna. + +"The shark went down after some bit of prey more delicious than I. My +will would have been hard for him to manage. I forgot the shark. I +forgot the figures standing, waiting on the shore that I had left, ere +Lettie and the shadow that walked with her, whatever it was, had come to +it. I forgot everything but the phosphorescent dew that would cool my +spirit, athirst for what I knew not, ravenous for refreshment, searching +for manna where it never grew. The plaudits of yesterday were ringing in +my ears, the wavelets danced to their music, my oars kept time to the +vanity measure of my beating mind. Still I was not content. I wanted +something more. A faded flower, an althea-bud, was still pendent from my +coat. I had taken it out from the mass of flowers with which I had been +honored. I noticed it now. The moon dewed it over with its yellowness. +'An offering to the sea-nymphs!' I said, and I cast it forth into the +wide field. It did not go down, as I had fancied it would. No, it went +on, whither the movement of the ceaseless dance of motion carried it. I +leaned upon my oars and watched it until it went out of the illuminated +track. I was now in the bay, outside the river. I looked once more +shoreward. I had threaded the curve of the stream, and could not see +around the point. No living human thing was in sight. I was alone with +Nature in the night, when she looks down glories, and spreads out fields +where we long to walk, and our footsteps are fast in clay. I was not far +from shore; it lay dark behind me; it was only before that I could see. +As I paused in my rowing to watch the althea-bud set afloat, I heard a +tiny splash in the waters. + +"'A school of fish flashing up a moment,' I thought, and did not further +heed it." + +The man looked as if he were now out at sea. He turned his head the +least bit: the effect against the sky was fine. He had an attitude of +watching and listening. + +"I saw an object before me moving on the waters. I looked down. The +water was rising in my own boat. I could not heed it just now. + +"'In a moment,' I thought, 'I would stop to bail it out.' + +"It was a boat that I saw. It moved on so swiftly,--the chime of the +oars, tiny oars they were, was so sweetly, softly musical, the very +drippling drops fell so like globules of silver, that I forgot my +mission. I held my oars and waited. At last--how long it seemed!--I saw +the boat come into the bridge of light. I saw fair, golden hair let +loose to the sea-breezes that began to blow. I saw two hands striving +with the oars. I saw the owner of the hair and of the hands, a young +girl, sitting in that boat, coming right across the way where I ought +to be going. "'Does she mean to stay me?' I said, and even then my will +rose up. + +"I bent to the oars; but whilst I had watched her, my boat had been +rapidly filling. I was forced to stay. My feet were already in the +waves. Right across my pathway she came, close up to my filling boat. + +"Her eyes were in the shadow, the moon being behind, but her voice rang +out these words:-- + +"'Mr. Axtell, you're committing a great sin. You're putting your own +life in peril. You're killing your mother. I have come to stay you. Will +you come on shore?' + +"I only looked at her. When I found voice, it was to ask,-- + +"'Who are you?' + +"'Who I am doesn't matter now. Drowning men mustn't ask questions'; and, +putting one oar within my boat, now more than half filled, she drew her +own to its side, and said,--"'Come in.' + +"'Conquered by a woman,' I thought. 'Never!'--and I began to search for +the cup, that I might give back to the sea its intruding contents. + +"I had left it in the other boat. + +"'Conquered by thine own sin,' said the young girl, still holding fast +to my boat. + +"'Not so easily, fairy, or whoe'er thou art,' I said; for I saw that her +boat was well furnished with both bailing-bowl and sponge, and I reached +out for them, saying, 'I'm going on the track, farther out.' + +"She divined my intent, and quick as was my thought were her two hands; +she cast both bowl and sponge into the sea. + +"'Mr. Axtell,' she said; 'there's a power in the world greater than your +own. The sooner you yield, the less you'll feel the thorns. Your mother, +on the shore, is suffering agonies for you. Will you come into this +boat, now?' + +"The boats had floated around a little, and had changed places. I looked +into her eyes; there was nothing there that said, 'I'm trying to conquer +you.' There was something in them that I had never seen made visible on +earth before,--something radiant, with a might of right, that made me +yield. She saw that I was coming. I lifted my feet out of the inches of +water that had nearly filled it, put my oars across her tiny boat, and, +leaving my own River-Ribbon to its fate, I entered that wherein my +preserver had come out. I took the oars from her passive hands; she went +to the front of the boat and left me master of the small ship. I turned +its prow homeward. My preserver sat motionless, her eyes in the moon, +for aught of notice she took of me. I was going toward the river; she +bade me keep to the bay-shore, at the right. I obeyed. No more words +were spoken until we were almost to land. I saw a little bulb afloat. +The boat went near. I put out my oar and drew it in. It was the +althea-bud that I had offered to the sea-nymphs. + +"'The mermaids refuse my offering,' I said; 'will you accept it?'--and +I handed it, dripping with salt-water, to the fairy who sat so silently +before me. + +"She took it, pointed to a little sheltered cove between two outstanding +ledges of rock, and said,-- + +"'This is boatie's home,--see if you can guide her safely in.' + +"The keel grated on the gravelly beach, the boat struck home. The young +girl did not wait for me, she landed first, and, handing me a tiny key, +said,-- + +"'Draw my boat up out of reach of the tide, make it fast, please,'--and +she sped away into the dreamy darkness of the land, whose shadows the +moon did not yet reach, leaving me alone on the shore. + +"I obeyed her orders implicitly, and then followed. It was not far from +this sheltered cove that I met those with whom I had come. My mother was +sitting upon one of the sea-shore rocks, passive, but stony. The young +girl had just been speaking to her, she must have been saying that 'I +was come back,' but my mother had not heeded. It was only in sight that +her reason came, but, oh! such a deluge of gladness came to her when she +saw me! + +"'I was dying,' she said; 'you've come back to save me, Abraham.' + +"My father did not speak then, he lifted my mother from off the stone, +and together we three walked home. Lettie lingered, the shadow with her. +Was that the young girl? I could not quite discern." + +Mr. Axtell stopped in his narration, walked out of the village of Dead +Percivals, and to his mother's new-made grave. He came back soon. + +"Miss Percival," he said, "two days ago you said, 'it was the strangest +thing that ever you saw man do, to dig his mother's grave.' It was a +work begun long ago; the first stroke was that August night; it is +nearly nineteen years ago. What do you think of it now?" + +"As I thought then, Mr. Axtell." + +He stood near me now. He went on. + +"That young girl saved my life that night, Miss Percival. Ere we reached +home, a violent, sudden thunder-storm came down, with wind and rain, and +terrible strokes of lightning. We took shelter in another house than +home. Lettie and my preserver followed." + +Another long pause came, a gathering together of the forces of his +nature, typical of the still hotness of the August night of which he +spoke, and after the ominous rest he emitted ponderous words. They came +like crackles of rattling electricity. I could taste it. + +"Miss Percival, look at me one moment." + +I obeyed. + +"Do I look like a murderer?" + +"I don't know." + +"Don't turn your eyes away; do you know what certain words in this world +mean?" + +"Signal one, and I will answer." + +He looked so leonic that I felt the least bit in the world like running +away, but decided to stay, as he was just within my pathway of escape. + +"Do you know what it is, what it means, when a human soul calls out from +its highest heights to another mortal, 'Thou art mine'?" + +I do not think he expected an answer, but I answered a round, full, +truthful, "No." + +"Then let it be the theme of thanksgiving," he said. "That fair young +girl is here now. I feel her sacred presence. She does not save me from +my imperious will. + +"Do you know, Miss Percival," he suddenly resumed, "do you know that you +are here with Abraham Axtell, a man who has destroyed two lives: one +slowly, surely, through years of suffering; the other, oh! the other--by +a flash from God's wrath, and for eighteen years my soul has cried out +to her, 'Thou art mine,' and yet there is no response on earth, there +can be none? Would you know the name of my preserver that night, +come,"--and, bending down, he offered his hand to assist me in rising. + +I had no faith in this man's murderousness, whatever he might have done. +He led me around to the head-stone of the grave which he had asked my +knowledge of. Before I could see, he passed his hand across my eyes: how +cold it was! + +"When you see the name recorded here," he said, "you will know who saved +me that August night, whom my terrible will destroyed, drinking her +young life up in one fell cup." + +His hand was withdrawn for one moment; my sight was blinded with the +cold pressure on my eyes; then I read,-- + + MARY, + DAUGHTER OF + JULIUS AND MARY PERCIVAL, + + DIED + AUGUST 30th, 1843, + AGED + 17 YEARS. + +"My sister," I said + +"Your sister, whom I killed." + +"Ere I was old enough to know her." + +"Have you one drop of mercy for him who destroyed your sister?" he +asked,--and his haughty will was suffused in pleading. + +I thought of the third figure in the celestial picture, as it gazed upon +the outstretched hand, and I said,-- + +"God hath not made me your judge; why should I refuse mercy?" + +A flash of intuition came. The young girl, whose portrait was in the +house of the Axtells, whose face had been next my mother's, who asked me +to do something for her on the earth,--could they all be manifestations +of Mary? + +"Who painted the portrait in your house?" I asked. + +"My will," he said; "I am no artist." + +"Is it like Mary?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I have this day seen her." + +He looked up, great tears falling from his eyes, and asked,-- + +"Where?" + +I took him to the gallery of the clouds, and showed him my vision, and +repeated the words spoken to me up there, the words for him only,--the +others were full of mystery still. He held seemingly no part therein. + +"Will a murderer's prayer add one ray of joy to the angel who has come +out on the sea to save me,--me, twice saved, oh! why?"--and Mr. Axtell +laid his hand upon my head in blessing. + +"Twice saved," I said, "that the third salvation may be Christ's." + +Solemnly came the "Amen" from his lips, tremulous as the bridge of light +he had once passed over. + +"Good-bye, Mr. Axtell; I shall fulfil Mary's wish for you, if you will +let me;" and I offered him my hand for this second parting: the first +had been when he went out alone to his mother's burial. + +He looked at it, as he then had done, uncomprehending, and said only,-- + +"Will I let you?" + +He gathered up the cushion, and carried it to the church. I closed the +gate that shut in this silent city, and went to the parsonage. + + * * * * * + +The sun had gone down,--the night was coming on. I found Aaron pacing +the verandah with impatient steps. He asked where I had been. I told +him. + +"It is very well that you are going so soon," he said,--"you are getting +decidedly ghostly. Will you take a walk with me?" + +I was thankful for the occasion. As might have been expected, Aaron +chose the way that led to the solemn old house. I was amused. + +"Where are you going?" I questioned. + +"To inquire after our early-morning patient," he said. + +"And not to see Mrs. Aaron Wilton?" + +Aaron looked the least mite retributive, as he said,-- + +"Anna, there are mysteries in life." + +"As, why Aaron was chosen before Moses," I could not help suggesting. +Sophie had had an opportunity of being Mrs. Moses, instead of Mrs. +Aaron. + +"Sophie's wise; you are not, Anna, I fear." + +"Your fear may be the beginning of my wisdom, Aaron: I hope so." + +With the exception of a return to the subject on which Aaron had +questioned me at breakfast, and on which he elicited no further +information from me, nothing of interest occurred until we were within +the place that held Sophie's pearly self. + +She had been a shower of sunshine, letting fall gold and silver drops +through all the house. I saw them, heard their sweet glade-like music +rippling everywhere, the moment that I went in. + +Mr. Axtell was pacing the hall in the evening twilight, and the little +of lamp-lustre that was shed into it. + +He looked passively calm, heroically enduring, as we went past him. From +his eyes came scintillations of a joy whose root is not in our planet. + +He simply said,-- + +"Mrs. Wilton is with my sister; she will be glad to see you." + +We went on. Sophie had made a very nest of repose in the sick-room. Miss +Axtell looked so comfortable, so untired of life, so changed from the +first glimpse I had had of her, when I thought her face might be such as +would be found under Dead-Sea waves. There was no more of the anxious +unrest. She spoke to Mr. Wilton, thanking him for the "good gift," she +named Sophie, that he had lent to her. + +Miss Lettie called me to her. She wished to say something to me only. I +bent my head to listen. + +"I am ill," she said,--"better just now, but I feel that it will be +weeks before I shall leave this place; it is good for me to be here, but +this troubles me,--I don't like to think that I must take care of it; +will you guard it sacredly for me?--and the letter of last night, add it +to the others." + +She gave me a small package, carefully closed, and I saw that it was +sealed. + +From her manner, I fancied it was to be known to me alone, and, +concealing it, I said,-- + +"I will keep it securely for you." + +Sophie came playfully up, and said,-- + +"Now, Anna, I'm empress here; no secret negotiations to overthrow my +power." + +"I'm just going to say good-bye to Miss Axtell," I said, "for I am going +home to-morrow;" and I told her of the letter from father, that I had +received. + +Sophie got up a charming storm of regret and wrath, neither at my father +for sending for me, nor at myself for going, but for the mysterious +third personality that created the need for my departure. + +Miss Lettie seemed to regret my coming absence still more than Sophie. + +"I wanted you so much," she said; "if I had only had you long ago, life +would have been changed," she whispered again, as Sophie turned to +listen to some pretty nonsense that the grave minister poured into her +ears through those windings of softly purplish hair. + +"Will you make me one promise, only one?" said Miss Axtell. + +I hesitated,--for promises are my religious fear, I do not like to +make promises. They are like mile-stones to a thunder-storm. They note +distances when the spirit is anxious only to cycle time and space. + +She looked so earnest, so persuasive, that I yielded, and said that +"consistency should be my only requirement." + +"It is not so immensely inconsistent, my Anemone; it is only that I want +you to come back again. Two weeks will satisfy your father. Will you +come to me on the twenty-fifth of March?" + +"What for?" with my awkward persistency in questioning, I asked. + +"Why, because I want to see you,--I wish you to write a letter for +me,--and more than all, I want an advocate." + +I, smiling at the triplet of occasions, promised to come, if consistent. + +Sophie was going home. She came up to drop a few last cheery words, to +fall into the coming hours of night. + +"You see how you've spoiled me by kindness, Mrs. Wilton," Miss Lettie +said. "I presume still further: I would like to see old Chloe; it is a +long, long time since I've seen her. Would you let her come?" Sophie +said that "it would renew Chloe's youth; she certainly would send her." + +Good-byes were spoken, and we went down. Mr. Axtell was still treading +the hall below. He thanked Sophie for her kindness to Miss Lettie, shook +hands genially with Aaron, looked at me, and we were gone. + +I carried Miss Lettie's message to Chloe. She lifted up those great +African orbs of hers as she might have done to the Mountains of the Moon +in her native land. + +"Now the heavens be praised!" said the honest soul,--"what for can that +icy lady want to see old Chloe?" + +I had carried the message under cover of one from my own heart. I knew +that Chloe had lived with my mother until she died. I knew that she must +know something regarding Mary, my sister, to whom, in all my life, I had +scarcely given one thought, who died ere I was wise enough to know her. +And so I began by asking,-- + +"Am I like my sister who died, Chloe?" + +She brought back her eyes from gazing upon the lunar mountains. + +"I don't know's you are 'xactly; but somehow you _did_ look like her, +up-stairs to-day, when you had them white things tied on your head." + +"Were you here when she died?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes!"--old Chloe closed her eyes,--"it is one of the blessed things +Chloe's Lord will let her 'member, up there;" and Chloe wiped her eyes, +_in memoriam_. + +"I don't remember her," I said. + +"No, how should you? you were wee little then." + +"What made her die, Chloe?" + +"I reckon 't was because the angels wanted her more 'n me, Miss Anna." + +"Was she sick, Chloe?" + +"How queer you questions, Miss Anna! Of course she was sick; she drooped +in the August heat; they didn't think she was very sick; the master gave +her some medicine one night, and left her sleeping, quiet as a lamb, and +before morning came she went to heaven." + +"Who was the master, Chloe?" + +"Why, you _is_ getting stupid-like, child! Honey darling, don't you +know that Master Percival, your father, was my master ever so many +years?"--and she began notating them upon her fingers. + +I interrupted the mathematical calculation by telling Chloe that three +people were waiting for their tea. + +"Two of 'em is my dear childers," said Chloe,--who never would accept +Aaron, even with all his goodness, into her heart; and she moved about +with accelerated velocity in her daily orbit. + +What could Mr. Axtell have meant by saying that he had killed Mary, +who, Chloe had assured me, died peaceably in her father's house? After +disturbing the equilibrium of thought-realm, and nearly giving my mind a +new axis of revolution, I decided to think no more of it. I could +not, would not, believe that Abraham Axtell had gone up any Moriah of +sacrifice, and been permitted to let fall the knife upon his victim. His +life must have been a dream, an illusion; he only wanted awakening to +existence. And the memory of my Sabbath-morning's vision dwelt with me, +and the voice that speaketh, filling the soul "as a sea-shell is with +murmuring," said, "Your finger will awaken him." And I looked down at +my two passive hands, and asked, "Which one of them?" And the murmuring +voice startled me with the answer, "Two are required,--one of +reconciliation, the other of forgiveness." Whereupon I lifted up the ten +that Nature gave, and said, "Take them all, if need be."---- + +"Tea is ready," said Aaron, peeping in, his face alive with satisfied +muscles, playing too merry a tune of joy, I thought, for a grave +minister. + +"Sophie's a magician," I thought for the thousandth time, as, for the +millionth, Aaron looked at her sitting so demurely regal at his spread +table. + +"What would these two good people say," I asked myself, in thinking, +"if they knew all that I have learned in my visit, not yet a week +long?"--and I ran up and down in the scale of semibreves and minims that +I had heard, with the one long, sweet trill transfusing life on earth +into heavenly existence, and I felt very wingy, very much as if I could +take up the tower, standing high and square out there, and carry it, +"like Loretto's chapel, through the air to the green land," where my +spirit would go singing evermore. I could not tell what my joy was like: +not unto anything that I had seen upon the earth; under the earth I had +not yet been; only once above it, and they were calmly celestial there. +I was turbulently joyous, and so I winged a little while around Sophie +and Aaron, hummed a good-night in Chloe's ears, and found that the canny +soul was luxuriating in the idea that the icy lady was to be thawed into +the acceptance of sundry confections which she was basketing to carry +with her when I went out. + +"Call me early," I said; "you know I leave at seven o'clock." + +"I shall be up ever so early, Miss Anna; never fear for Chloe's sleeping +late to-morrow in the morning; you get ever so much,--'nuff for Chloe +and you too; good-night, honey!"--and Chloe went on her mission, whilst +Aloes and Honey went up-stairs, past Aaron's study, and into a room +where the mysterious art of packing must be practised for a little. + +I thought of the "breadths of silver and skirts of gold" that I had seen +the Day pack away; and, inspired with the thought, fell to folding less +amberous raiment, until, my duty done, I pressed the cover down, and +locked my treasures in, for the journey of the morrow. Then I took out +my sacred gift to guard, and, laying it before me, looked at it. It was +of dimensions scarcely larger than the moon,--that is, extremely variant +and uncertain: to one, a planet, larger than Jupiter, moons and all; to +another, scarcely more than a bridal ring. So my packet was of uncertain +size: _undoubtedly_ the tower was packed away in it, Herbert too,--and I +couldn't help agreeing with my thought, and confessing that this was a +better form for conveyance than that I so lately had planned; so I put +it safely away, with myself, until the day should come. The day-star had +arisen in my heart. Would it ever go down? Not whilst He who holdeth the +earth in the hollow of His hand hath me there too. Reaching out, once +more, for the strong protective fibres that had so blessed me, I +wandered forth with it into the land whose mural heights are onychites +and mocha-stones of mossy mystery. + +How long I might have lingered there I know not,--so delicious was the +fragrance and so fair the flowers,--had not Chloe's voice broken the +mocha-stones, scattering the mosses like autumn-leaves. + +"Honey, I thought I'd waken ye,--the day is just cracking," said Chloe, +at the door, and she asked me to open it one moment. + +When I had done so, there she stood, just as I had seen her when I bade +her good-night,--save that her basket was void of contents. + +"Master Abraham didn't know you was going home," Chloe said, "or he'd +have told you good-bye; and I guesses he sent what he didn't tell, for +he asked me to give you this." + +When Chloe was gone, I opened the small package. It was a pretty casket, +made of the margarite of the sea. Within it lay a faded, fallen, +fragmentary thing. At first, I knew not what it could be. It was the +althea-bud that grew in the summer-time of eighteen years ago, that +had been Mary's,--and my heart beat fast as I looked upon the silent +voicefulness that spake up to me, and said, "To you, who have restored +him to himself, he offers the same tribute;" and I lifted up the +iridescent, flashing cradle of margarite, and reverently touched +the ashes of althea it held with my lips. Afterwards they were +salt,--whether with the saltness of the sea the bud had been baptized +in, or of the tears that I let fall, I knew not. + +I folded up my good-bye from Mr. Axtell in the same precious package +that was his sister's, and, side by side, the two journeyed on with me. + + * * * * * + +It was seven of the clock on Monday morning when she who said the +naughty words, and the grave minister, came out to say farewell to me. +The day's great round was nearly done ere I met my father's flowery +welcome. + +"My Myrtle-Vine, I knew you'd come," said Dr. Percival; and his long +gray hair floated out to reach me in, and his eyes, wherein all love +burned iridescent, drew me toward his heart. + +My father put his arms around me, and said the sweetest words of welcome +that ever are spoken. + +"How I've missed you, Anna!" as he drew me toward his large arm-chair, +and folded me, his latest child, to his heart. + +As thus we were sitting in the silence of the heart that needs no +language, little Jeffy, my ebony-beauty boy, darted his black head +in, and reposing it for one instant against the scarcely lighter-hued +mahogany of the door, jingled out, in shells of sound,-- + +"He's mighty fur'ous. It's real fun. I guess you'd better come right up, +Dr. Percival;" and the ebon head darted off, without one word for me. + +Why was it that this little omission of Jeffy's, the African boy, should +create a vacancy? Oh! it is because Nature made me so exacting. I wanted +everybody to welcome me. + +I lifted my head from my father's shoulder, and asked, in some dismay,-- + +"What is it, father?" + +"I've gotten myself in trouble, Anna. I've let chaos into my house. I +wanted you to help me." + +"What is it? what has happened?" I hastened to inquire. + +"Only a hospital patient that I was foolish enough to bring away. I +heartily wish that he was back again," said my father; and he put me +from him to go, in obedience to the summons. + +I was about to follow him, but he waved me back as I went into the hall, +and he went on. I heard the ring of a low, frenzied laugh, as I began +unwrapping from my journey. My casket of treasures I had committed to +bands for keeping. Now I laid it down, and, folding up my protective +robes, I had just gone to try my father's easy-chair, alone, when +Jeffy's ebon head struck in again. + +"I didn't see ye afore, Miss Anna. I'so mighty glad you've come;" and +Jeffy atoned for his former omission by his present joy. + +"How is he?" I questioned Jeffy, as if I knew all the antecedents of the +case perfectly. + +"Oh, he's jolly to-night. I think Master Percival might have let me stay +to see the fun;" and Jeffy's eyes rolled to and fro in their orbits, as +if anxious to strike against some wandering comet. + +"Is tea over?" I asked. + +"No, miss. Master said he'd wait for you. I'll go and tell that you're +here;" and Jeffy took himself off, eager for action. + +He was not long gone. + +"It's all ready, waiting a bit for master. He can't come down just this +minute," said Jeffy. "Look a here, Miss Anna,--isn't it vastly funny +master's bringing a crazy man here? They say down in the kitchen, that +as how it wouldn't 'a' been, if you'd been home. It's real good, though. +It's the splendidest thing that's happened. Wait till you see him +perform. Ask him to sing. It's frolicky to hear him." + +The boy went on, and I did not stop him. I was as anxious for +information as he to impart it. When he paused for breath, in the width +of detail that he furnished, I asked,-- + +"When was this stranger brought here?" + +"Three days ago, Miss Anna, I hope he'll stay forever and ever;" and +Jeffy darted off at a mellifluous sound that dropped down from above. + +"There! he has thrown the poker at the mirror again, I do believe," said +another voice in the hall, and I recognized the housekeeper. + +Staid Mrs. Ordilinier came in to greet me, with the uniform greeting of +her lifetime. I verily believe that she has but one way of receiving. +Electricity and bread-and-butter would meet the same recognitory +reception. + +"Did you hear that noise, Miss Anna?" she said, as another sound came, +that was vastly like the shivering of glass. + +"What was it, Mrs. Ordilinier?" + +I gave her the question to gain information. I sought it,--but she, not +disposed to gratify me at the moment, slowly ascended to ascertain the +state of mirrors above. She met my father's silver hairs coming down. He +did not say one word to her. He met me in the hall, took me back to the +room, and, reseating me in my olden place, put his hand upon my head, +and said,-- + +"This must help me, Anna." + +"It will, papa; what is it?" + +"I've a crazy man up-stairs. He can't do very much harm, for he is badly +injured." + +"How?" I asked. + +"Railroad accident. Four days ago, locomotive and two passenger-cars off +the track, down forty feet upon the rocks and stones, and all there was +of a river," my father replied, with evident regret that the company had +been so unfortunate, as well as his individual self. + +"Who is it?" was my next question. + +"Don't know, darling; haven't the least idea. He has the softest brown, +curling hair of his own, with a wig over it. Can't find out his name, or +anything about him. I like him, though, Anna. He's like somebody! used +to know. I brought him here from the hospital, several days ago, but he +hasn't given me much peace since, and the people down below think I'm as +crazy as he; but I cannot help it; I will not turn him out now." + +"Of course you wouldn't, father. We'll manage him superbly. I'll chain +him for you." + +My father rose up, comforted by my words, and said "it was time for +tea." We went down. I was the Sophie of Aaron's home, at my father's +table. + +"Papa," I said, as if introducing the most ordinary topic of +conversation, "what was the occasion of sister Mary's death? She was +only seventeen. How young to die!" + +My father sighed, and said,-- + +"Yes, it was young. She had fever, Anna. One of those long, low fevers +that mislead one. I did not think she would die." + +"Was Mary engaged to be married, father?" + +Dr. Percival looked up at his daughter Anna with the look that says, +"You're growing old," although she was twenty-three, and never had gone +so far in life as his eldest daughter at seventeen. + +"She was, Anna." + +"To whom, father?" + +"Perhaps you've seen him, Anna. I hear that he is come home. His name is +Axtell,--Abraham Axtell." + +I told my father of the first words,--where we had found him, tolling +the bell,--and of his mother's death, and his sister's illness. + +"Incomprehensible people!" was my father's sole ejaculation, as he went +to look after the deranged patient. + +I occupied myself for an hour in picking up the reins of government that +I had thrown down when I went to Redleaf. Looking into "our room," +and not finding father there, I went on, up to my own room. A warm, +welcoming fire burned within the grate. I thought, "How good father is +to think for me!" and with the thought there entered in another. It came +in the sudden consciousness that the room was prepared for some one else +than me. I glanced about it, and saw the strange, wild man, with eyes +all aglow, looking at me from out the depths of my wonted place of rest. +No one else was in the room. I turned around to leave, but, dropping my +precious box of margarite, I stooped to pick it up. + +"It is a good harbor to sail into. I'm content," said the voice from the +corner, before I could escape. + +I met father coming in. + +"Why, how is this?" he said to me. + +"You didn't tell me you had given up my room," I said. + +"Didn't I? Well, I forgot. We couldn't take him higher." + +"Is he so much hurt?" I asked. + +"Three broken bones," my father replied. "It will be weeks, it may be +months, before he will be well;" and he sighed hopelessly at the good +deed, which, being done, pressed so heavily. "Don't look so sadly about +it, Myrtle-Vine," he added; "take my room, if you like." + +"That was not my thought," I said. "I do not mind the change of room." + +The visit to Redleaf, which I had made to dawn in my horizon, was +eclipsed by three broken bones, that suddenly undermined the arch of +consistency. + +Soothingly came the words that were spoken unto me. My father was +all-willing to relinquish his cherished room,--his for sixteen years, +and opening into that mysterious other room,--to give it up to me, his +Myrtle-Vine; and a momentary pang that any interest in existence should +be, except as circling around him, flew across the future, "the science +whereof is to man but what the shadow of the wind might be,"--and I +looked up into his eyes, and, twining his long white hair around my +fingers, for a moment felt that forever and forever he should be the +supreme object of earthly devotion. In my wish to evince the sentiment +in action, I requested permission to assist in the care of the hospital +patient. + +"Oh, no, Anna! he is too wild now. When the excitement of the fever is +gone, then will be your time." + +Another of those many-toned, circling peals of laughter came from my +room. My father went in. I went past the place that mortal eyes were not +permitted to fathom, and, for the first time in my life, was curious to +know its contents, and why I had never seen the interior thereof, I had +grown up with the mystery, until I had accepted it, unquestioning, as a +thing not for my view, and therefore out of recognition. It was as far +away from me as the open sea of the North, and might contain the mortal +remains of all the navigators of Hope that ever had wandered into the +sea of Time for him who so holily guarded it. + +"One far-away Indian-summery day, four years agone," "while yet the day +was young," Dr. Percival, my father, had led an azure-eyed maiden in +through the mysterious entrance, and shown unto her the veiled temple, +its altar and its shrine, and she had come thence with the dew of +feeling in her eyes and a purple haze around her brow, which she has +worn there until it has tangled its pansy-web into an abiding-place, +unto such time as the light is shut out forever, or the waves from the +silver sea curl their mist up thither. I had much marvel then concerning +the hidden mysteries; but Sophie so soon thereafter spake the naughty "I +will," that the silent room forgot to speak to me. I have never heard +sound thence since that morning-time. + +"Why does not my father take me in? Am I not his child, even as Sophie?" + +I asked these questions of Anna Percival, the while she stood at an +upper window, and looked out over New York's surging lines of life. +The roar of rolling wheels came muffled by distance and the shore of +dwelling-places over which I looked. I counted the church-spires that +threaded the vault of night a little of the upward way. How angels, that +have lived forever in heaven, and souls just free from material things, +must reach down to touch these towering masts, that tell which way the +sails of spirit bend! These city churches, dedicated with solemn service +unto the worship of the great I AM, the Lord God of Adam, the Jehovah +Jireh of Israelites, the Holy Redeemer of Christians,--may the Lord of +heaven and earth bless them _every one_! I looked forth upon them with +tears. There never comes a time, in the busiest hurry of human ways, +that I do not sprinkle a drop of love upon the steps as I pass,--that I +do not wind a tendril of holy feeling up to height of tower or summit of +spire for the great winds to waft onward and upward. God pity the heart +that does not involuntary reverence to God's templed places, made sacred +a thousand fold by every penitential tear, by every throb of devotion, +by every aspiration after the divine existence, from which let down a +little while, we wander, for what we know not! God doth not tell, save +that it is to "love first Him, Sole and Individual," and then the +fragments, the crumbs of Divinity that dwell in Man. + +I had not lighted the gas. The street-lamps sent up their rays, making +the room semi-lucent. I took out my tower-key. What matter, if I held +the cold iron thereof to my lips awhile? there was no frost in the March +air then. I sent my restless fingers in and out of the wards, prisoning +them often therein. As thus I stood, with cheek pressed against the +windowpane, looking out upon the city, set into a rim of darkness, from +out of which it flashed its million rays, papa came up. + +"I didn't say good-night," he said, coming in, and to the window where +I was. "But how is this, Anna? what has happened to my child? "--and he +pointed to shining drops that glistened on the window-glass. + +They must have come from my eyes; I could not deny their authorship, and +so I confessed to tears of gladness at seeing him once more. + +He looked fondly down at me through the dim light. I asked him after the +tenant of my premises. He shook his head as one does in great doubt, +said "life was uncertain," and repeated several other axioms, that were +quite apart from his original style, and excessively annoying to me. + +"Papa," I said, "why not tell me truly? will this man recover?" + +"'Man proposes, God disposes,' my child," he said. + +"I don't dispute the general truth," I replied,--"but, particularly, is +this man's life in danger?" + +He began to quote somebody's psalm or hymn about "fitful fevers and +fleeting shadows." + +My father has a fine, rich, variant power of sound with which to charm +such as have ears to hear, and Anna Percival has been so endowed. +Therefore she listened and waited to the end. When it came, she looked +up into her father's face and said,-- + +"Papa, I am not a child, to be coaxed into forgetfulness; why will you +not trust me? I am older than Sophie was when you took her in where I +have not been; why will you not make me your friend?"--and some sudden +collision of watery powers among the window-drops, whether from +accretion or otherwise, sent a glistening rivulet down to the barrier of +the sash. + +Papa folded his arms, and looked at me. I could not bear to be thus shut +out. I said so. + +"Could you bear to be shut in?" he thought, and asked it. + +"I think I could. I could bear anything that you gave me; I could keep +anything that you intrusted to my keeping." + +Papa looked at me as one does at a cherished vine the outermost edges of +which are just frost-touched; then he folded me to his heart. I felt the +throbbings thereof, and mine began to regret that I had intruded into +the vestibule of his sacred temple; but a certain something went +whispering within me, "You can feed the sacred fire," and I whispered to +the whispering voice, and to my father's ear,-- + +"You'll take me in, won't you?" + +"Come," was the only spoken word. + +The room was not cheery; he felt it, and said,-- + +"You see what the effect is when my Myrtle-Vine is off my walls;" and he +tossed aside books and papers that had evidently been astray for days, +and lay now in his way. + +Papa took a key (he wears it too, it seems: that is even more than I do +with my tower's) from a tiny chain of gold about his neck, and unlocked +the door connecting this silent room with his own. He went in, leaving +me outside. He lighted a candle and left it burning there. He came, took +my hand, and, with the leading whereby we guide a child, conducted me in +thither. Then he went out and left me standing, bewildered, there. + +I had anticipated something wonderful. What was here? It was a silent +room. The carpet had a river-pattern meandering over its dark-blue +ground: it must have been years since a broom went over it. Strange +medley of furniture was here. I looked upon the walls. Pictures that +must have come from another race and generation hung there. There were +many of them. One side of the room held one only. It was a portrait. I +remembered the original in life. "My mother," I exclaimed. In the room's +centre, surrounded by various articles, was the very boat that I knew +Mary Percival had guided out to sea to save Abraham Axtell. Two tiny +oars lay across it. The paint was faded; the seams were open; it would +hold water no longer. A sense of worship filled me. I looked up at the +portrait. My mother smiled: or was it my fancy? Fancy undoubtedly; but +fancies give comfort sometimes. I looked again at the boat. On its +stern, in small, golden letters, was the name, "Blessing of the Bay," +the very name given to the first boat built after the Mayflower's keel +touched America's shore. "The name was a good omen," I thought. An +armchair stood before the portrait. A shawl was spread over it. I lifted +up the fringe to see what the shawl covered. Papa had come in. + +"Don't do that, Anna," he said. + +"Is it any harm, papa?" + +"Your mother died sitting in that chair; her hands spread the shawl over +it; it was the last work they did, Anna; it has never since been taken +off." + +I dropped the fringe; my touch seemed sacrilegious. + +Near the chair was a small cabinet; it looked like an altar, or would +have done so, had my father been a devotee to any religion requiring +visible sacrifice. He opened it. + +"Come hither, Anna,"--and I went. + +Long, luxuriant bands of softly purplish hair lay within, upon the place +of sacrifice. + +"Sophie's is like this," I said. + +"And Sophie wears one like unto this," said my father; and he took up +a circlet of shining gold that lay among the tresses. "Sophie's +marriage-ring was hallowed unto her. I gave it the morning she went out +from me." He uttered these words with slow reverence of voice. + +Why did self come up? + +"You gave Sophie _our_ mother's marriage-ring," I said, "and I"-- + +"Shall wear this," said my father. "I laid it here, with hers;" and he +gently lifted the sacred hair, and, freeing the ring, put it upon my +finger. + +"This is not my marriage-day," I said. "Papa, I don't want it. Besides, +gentlemen don't wear marriage-rings: how came you to?" + +"Perhaps I have not worn this one; but will you wear it to please me?" + +"Why will it please you? It is not symbolical, is it?" + +"It makes you doubly mine," he said; and he led me back to outside life, +with this strange sort of marriage-ring circling with its planet weight +around my finger. + +Did my father mean to keep me forever? And with the question came an +answer that left sweet contentment in its pathway; it accorded with the +intent of my heart. + +"Father, have you made me your friend?" I asked, in the room that was +terribly tossed, as I restored to place chairs that seemed to have been +in a deplorably long dance, and to have forgotten their home at its +close. + +"You wear my ring, you have come into my orbit," he answered. + +"That being true, I am as much interested in the flying comet in there +as you are,--for if it strikes you, it hurts me;" and I waited his +answer. + +After a moment of pause, it came. + +"My poor patient is very ill; his life will burn out, if the fever is +not stayed;" and as the frenzied laugh reached us, Dr. Percival forgot +my presence; he passed his hand slowly across his brow, as if to retouch +memory, and then taking down a volume, he began to read. I waited long. +At last he closed the book suddenly, said to himself, "I'll try it," and +in half a moment my father's white hairs were separated from me by the +impassable barrier of the sick-room. + +I waited; he did not come. The chairs were not the only articles that +had lost the commodity of order in my absence. I went to the table upon +which were kept the papers, etc., that lingered there a little while, +and then were thought no longer of. Idly I turned them over. What a +chaos on a small scale! all the elements of literature were represented. +I listened for coming footsteps; none came. "I may as well arrange this +table," I thought, "as wait for the morrow;" and I made a beginning by +sweeping the chaos at once upon the carpet. Then slowly I began picking +them up, one by one, and appointing them stations. My task was nearly +done, when, in turning over some magazines, I came upon a pile of papers +that had been laid between the leaves of one, and ere I was aware of +their presence, they slid down and scattered. I remember having felt +a little surprise that my father should have left them there, but I +hastened to gather them together. The last one of the number, I noticed, +was torn; it had a foreign look. "Father has some new correspondent," I +thought, as I looked at the number of mail-marks upon it. "He doesn't +think much of it, though, or it would have received better treatment;" +and I took a second look at it. A something in the feel of the paper +seemed familiar. "It is good for nothing," I said aloud, and I tossed +it toward the grate, put the pile of papers where I had found them, +surveyed my work with satisfaction, and stood thinking whether or not I +should wait to see my father again--it was more than an hour since +he went up--to say good-night to me. "I will wait a half-hour; if he +doesn't come then, I'll go," I said to the housekeeper, who came to see +that all was right for the night, and to remind me that Redleaf had not +proved very advantageous to my complexion, and to recommend early hours +as a restorative. + +In accordance with my promise, I drew a chair forward, placed my feet +upon the fender, and began to study the dying embers that were slowly +falling through the grate-bars. One, larger than usual, burned its way +down. It lighted up, for an instant, the bit of paper, that had not +fallen into the coals. Strange fancy it was that led me to imagine +that I saw a capital A, followed immediately by that unknown quantity +represented by x. I made an effort to gain it, scorched my face, and +burned my fingers; for I touched the grate, in rescuing that which I had +cast into the place of burning. + +"This bit of paper, found in New York, had once been integral with that +I had found within the church-yard tower in Redleaf," some inner +voice assured me. "Yes, it is a part of it," I said, for I distinctly +remembered the fragment whose possession I had so rejoiced over. Some +one had written a letter to Miss Axtell; the envelope was torn,--one +part there, another here. The letter itself I had found in the gloom of +the passage-way; for it Miss Axtell had gone out to search, ill, and in +the night; what must its contents have been, to have been worthy of such +effort?--and for the time I quite forgot to connect this man, ill in my +father's house, with the Herbert whose far-out-at-sea voice I had heard +winding up at me through the very death-darkness of the tower. Suddenly +the consciousness scintillated in my soul, and wonderful it was; but the +picture of my dream came in with it, and I said again, "I am ready for +the work which is given me to do," and I waited for its coming till +I grew very weary, holding this fragment of envelope fast, as a ship +clings to its anchor in mild seas. I ventured to knock at the entrance +of my own room. All was silent within. I tried the second time. There +came no answer. I dared not venture on the conquering third. + + * * * * * + + +AT SYRACUSE. + + + All day my mule with patient tread + Had moved along the plain, + Now o'er the lava's ashen bed, + Now through the sprouting grain, + Across the torrent's rocky lair, + Beneath the aloe-hedge, + Where yellow broom makes sweet the air, + And waves the purple sedge. + + Lone were the hills, save where supine + The dozing goatherd lay, + Or, at a rude and broken shrine, + The peasant knelt to pray; + Or where athwart the distant blue + Thin saffron clouds ascend, + As Carbonari, hid from view, + Their smouldering embers tend. + + Luxuriant vale or sterile reach, + A mountain temple-crowned + Or inland curve of glistening beach, + The changeful scene surround; + While scarlet poppies burning near, + And citrons' emerald gleam, + Make barren intervals appear + Dim lapses of a dream. + + How meekly o'er the meadows gay + The azure flax-blooms spread! + What fragrance on the breeze of May + The almond-blossoms shed! + Wide-branching fig-trees deck the fields + Or round the quarries cling, + And cactus-stalks, with thorny shields, + In wild contortions spring. + + Here groves of cork dusk shadows throw, + There vine-leaves lightsome sway, + While chestnut-plumes serenely glow + Above the olives gray; + Tall pines upon the sloping meads + Their sylvan domes uprear, + And rankly the papyrus-reeds + Low cluster in the mere. + + And Syracuse with pensive mien, + In solitary pride, + Like an untamed, but throneless queen, + Crouched by the lucent tide; + With honeyed thyme still Hybla teemed, + Its scent each zephyr bore, + And Arethusa's fountain gleamed + Pellucid as of yore. + + Methought, upstarting from his bath, + Old Archimedes cried, + "Eureka!" in my silent path, + Whose echoes long replied; + That Pythias, in the sunset-glow, + Rushed by to Damon's arms, + While from the Tyrant's Cave below + Moaned impotent alarms. + + And where upon a sculptured stone + The ruined arch beside, + A hoary, bronzed, and wrinkled crone + The twirling distaff plied,-- + Love with exalted Reason fraught + In Plato's accents came, + And Truth by Paul sublimely taught + Relumed her virgin flame. + + The ancient sepulchres that rose + Along the voiceless street + Time's myriad vistas seemed to close + And bid life's waves retreat,-- + As if intrusive footsteps stole + Beyond their mortal sphere, + And felt the awed and eager soul + Immortal comrades near. + + The moss-grown ramparts loom in sight + Like warders of the deep, + Where, flushed with evening's amber light, + The havened waters sleep; + Unfurrowed by a Roman keel + Or Carthaginian oar, + The speared and burnished galleys now + Their slumber break no more. + + But when the distant convent-bell, + Ere Day's last smiles depart, + With mellow cadence pleading fell + Upon my brooding heart,-- + And Memory's phantoms thick and fast + Their fond illusions bred, + From peerless spirits of the past, + And wrecks of ages fled,-- + + Joy broke the spell; an emblem blest + That lonely harbor cheered: + As if to greet her pilgrim guest, + My country's flag appeared! + Its radiant folds auroral streamed + Amid that haunted air, + And every star prophetic beamed + With Freedom's triumph there! + + * * * * * + + +METHODS OF STUDY IN NATURAL HISTORY. + + +All important changes in the social and political condition of man, +whether brought about by violent convulsions or effected gradually, are +at once recognized as eras in the history of humanity. But on the broad +high-road of civilization along which men are ever marching, they pass +by unnoticed the landmarks of intellectual progress, unless they chance +to have some direct bearing on what is called the practical side of +life. Such an era marked the early part of our own century; and though +at the time a thousand events seemed more full-freighted for the world +than the discovery of some old bones at the quarry of Montmartre, and +though many a man seemed greater in the estimation of the hour than the +professor at the Jardin des Plantes who strove to reconstruct these +fragments, yet the story that they told lighted up all the past, and +showed its true connection with the present. Cuvier, as one sees him in +a retrospective glance at the wonderful period in which he lived, and +which brought to the surface all its greatest elements,--one among a +throng of exceptional men, generals, soldiers, statesmen, as well as +men of commanding intellect in literary and scientific pursuits,--seems +always standing at the meeting-point between the past and present. His +gaze is ever fixed upon the path along which Creation has moved, and, as +he travels back, recovering step by step the road that has been lost to +man in apparently impenetrable darkness and mystery, the light brightens +and broadens before him, and seems to tempt him on into the dim regions +where the great mystery of Creation lies hidden. + +Before the year 1800, men had never suspected that their home had been +tenanted in past times by a set of beings totally different from those +that inhabit it now; still farther was it from their thought to imagine +that creation after creation had followed each other in successive ages, +every one stamped with a character peculiarly its own. It was Cuvier +who, aroused to new labors by the hint he received from the bones +unearthed at Montmartre, to which all his vast knowledge of living +animals gave him no clue, established by means of most laborious +investigations the astounding conclusion, that, prior to the existence +of the animals and plants now living, this globe had been the theatre of +another set of beings, every trace of whom had vanished from the face of +the earth. To his alert and active intellect and powerful imagination a +word spoken out of the past was pregnant with meaning; and when he had +once convinced himself that he had found a single animal that had no +counterpart among living beings, it gave him the key to many mysteries. + +It may be doubted whether men's eyes are ever opened to truths which, +though new to them, are old to God, till the time has come when they +can apprehend their meaning and turn them to good account. It certainly +seems, that, when such a revelation has once been made, light pours in +upon it from every side; and this is especially true of the case in +point. The existence of a past creation once suggested, confirmation +was found in a thousand facts overlooked before. The solid crust of the +earth gave up its dead, and from the snows of Siberia, from the soil of +Italy, from caves of Central Europe, from mines, from the rent sides of +mountains and from their highest peaks, from the coral beds of ancient +oceans, the varied animals that had possessed the earth ages before man +was created spoke to us of the past. + +No sooner were these facts established, than the relation between the +extinct world and the world of to-day became the subject of extensive +researches and comparisons; innumerable theories were started to account +for the differences, and to determine the periods and manner of the +change. It is not my intention to enter now at any length upon the +subject of geological succession, though I hope to return to it +hereafter in a series of papers upon that and kindred topics; but I +allude to it here, before presenting some views upon the maintenance of +organic types as they exist in our own period, for the following reason. +Since it has been shown that from the beginning of Creation till the +present time the physical history of the world has been divided into +a succession of distinct periods, each one accompanied by its +characteristic animals and plants, so that our own epoch is only the +closing one in the long procession of the ages, naturalists have been +constantly striving to find the connecting link between them all, and to +prove that each such creation has been a normal and natural growth +out of the preceding one. With this aim they have tried to adapt the +phenomena of reproduction among animals to the problem of creation, and +to make the beginning of life in the individual solve that great mystery +of the beginning of life in the world. In other words, they have +endeavored to show that the fact of successive generations is analogous +to that of successive creations, and that the processes by which +animals, once created, are maintained unchanged during the period to +which they belong will account also for their primitive existence. + +I wish, at the outset, to forestall any such misapplication of the facts +I am about to state, and to impress upon my readers the difference +between these two subjects of inquiry,--since it by no means follows, +that, because individuals are endowed with the power of reproducing and +perpetuating their kind, they are in any sense self-originating. Still +less probable does this appear, when we consider, that, since man has +existed upon the earth, no appreciable change has taken place in the +animal or vegetable world; and so far as our knowledge goes, this would +seem to be equally true of all the periods preceding ours, each one +maintaining unbroken to its close the organic character impressed upon +it at the beginning. + +The question I propose to consider here is simply the mode by which +organic types are preserved as they exist at present. Every one has +a summary answer to this question in the statement, that all these +short-lived individuals reproduce themselves, and thus maintain their +kinds. But the modes of reproduction are so varied, the changes some +animals undergo during their growth so extraordinary, the phenomena +accompanying these changes so startling, that, in the pursuit of the +subject, a new and independent science--that of Embryology--has grown +up, of the utmost importance in the present state of our knowledge. + +The prevalent ideas respecting the reproduction of animals are made +up from the daily observation of those immediately about us in the +barn-yard and the farm. But the phenomena here are comparatively simple, +and easily traced. The moment we extend our observations beyond our +cattle and fowls, and enter upon a wider field of investigation, we are +met by the most startling facts. Not the least baffling of these are +the disproportionate numbers of males and females in certain kinds +of animals, their unequal development, as well as the extraordinary +difference between the sexes among certain species, so that they seem as +distinct from each other as if they belonged to separate groups of the +Animal Kingdom. We have close at hand one of the most striking instances +of disproportionate numbers in the household of the Bee, with its one +fertile female charged with the perpetuation of the whole community, +while her innumerable sterile sisterhood, amid a few hundred drones, +work for its support in other ways. Another most interesting chapter +connected with the maintenance of animals is found in the various ways +and different degrees of care with which they provide for their progeny: +some having fulfilled their whole duty toward their offspring when they +have given them birth; others seeking hiding-places for the eggs they +have laid, and watching with a certain care over their development; +others feeding their young till they can provide for themselves, and +building nests, or burrowing holes in the ground, or constructing earth +mounds for their shelter. + +But, whatever be the difference in the outward appearance or the habits +of animals, one thing is common to them all without exception: at some +period of their lives they produce eggs, which, being fertilized, give +rise to beings of the same kind as the parent. This mode of generation +is universal, and is based upon that harmonious antagonism between the +sexes, that contrast between the male and the female element, that at +once divides and unites the whole Animal Kingdom. And although this +exchange of influence is not kept up by an equality of numeric +relations,--since not only are the sexes very unequally divided in some +kinds of animals, but the male and female elements are even combined +in certain types, so that the individuals are uniformly +hermaphrodites,--yet I firmly believe that this numerical distribution, +however unequal it may seem to us, is not without its ordained accuracy +and balance. He who has assigned its place to every leaf in the thickest +forest, according to an arithmetical law which prescribes to each its +allotted share of room on the branch where it grows, will not have +distributed animal life with less care. + +But although reproduction by eggs is common to all animals, it is only +one among several modes of multiplication. We have seen that certain +animals, besides the ordinary process of generation, also increase their +number naturally and constantly by self-division, so that out of one +individual many individuals may arise by a natural breaking up of +the whole body into distinct surviving parts. This process of normal +self-division may take place at all periods of life: it may form an +early phase of metamorphosis, as in the Hydroid of our common Aurelia, +described in the last article; or it may even take place before the +young is formed in the egg. In such a case, the egg itself divides into +a number of portions: two, four, eight, or even twelve and sixteen +individuals being normally developed from every egg, in consequence of +this singular process of segmentation of the yolk,--which takes place, +indeed, in all eggs, but in those which produce but one individual is +only a stage in the natural growth of the yolk during its transformation +into a young embryo. As the facts here alluded to are not very familiar +even to professional naturalists, I may be permitted to describe them +more in detail. + +No one who has often walked across a sand-beach in summer can have +failed to remark what the children call "sand saucers." The name is not +a bad one, with the exception that the saucer lacks a bottom; but the +form of these circular bands of sand is certainly very like a saucer +with the bottom knocked out. Hold one of them against the light and you +will see that it is composed of countless transparent spheres, each of +the size of a small pin's head. These are the eggs of our common Natica +or Sea-Snail. Any one who remembers the outline of this shell will +easily understand the process by which its eggs are left lying on the +beach in the form I have described. They are laid in the shape of a +broad, short ribbon, pressed between the mantle and the shell, and, +passing out, cover the outside of the shell, over which they are rolled +up, with a kind of glutinous envelope,--for the eggs are held together +by a soft glutinous substance. Thus surrounded, the shell, by its +natural movements along the beach, soon collects the sand upon it, the +particles of which in contact with the glutinous substance of the eggs +quickly forms a cement that binds the whole together in a kind of paste. +When consolidated, it drops off from the shell, having taken the mould +of its form, as it were, and retaining the curve which distinguishes the +outline of the Natica. Although these saucers look perfectly round, it +will be found that the edges are not soldered together, but are simply +lapped one over the other. Every one of the thousand little spheres +crowded into such a circle of sand contains an egg. If we follow the +development of these eggs, we shall presently find that each one divides +into two halves, these again dividing to make four portions, then the +four breaking up into eight, and so on, till we may have the yolks +divided into no less than sixteen distinct parts. Thus far this process +of segmentation is similar to that of the egg in other animals; but, as +we shall see hereafter, it seems usually to result only in a change in +the quality of its substance, for the portions coalesce again to form +one mass, from which a new individual is finally sketched out, at first +as a simple embryo, and gradually undergoing all the changes peculiar to +its kind, till a new-born animal escapes from the egg. But in the case +of the Natica this regular segmentation changes its character, and at a +certain period, in a more or less advanced stage of the segmentation, +according to the species, each portion of the yolk assumes an +individuality of its own, and, instead of uniting again with the rest, +begins to subdivide for itself. In our _Natica heros_, for instance, the +common large gray Sea-Snail of our coast, this change takes place when +the yolk has subdivided into eight parts. At that time each portion +begins a life of its own, not reuniting with its seven twin portions; so +that in the end, instead of a single embryo growing out of this yolk, +we have eight embryos arising from a single yolk, each one of which +undergoes a series of developments similar in all respects to that by +which a single embryo is formed from each egg in other animals. We have +other Naticas in which the normal number is twelve, others again in +which no less than sixteen individuals arise from one yolk. But this +process of segmentation, though in these animals it leads to such a +multiplication of individuals, is exactly the same as that discovered +by K.E. von Baer in the egg of the Frog, and described and figured by +Professor Bischof in the egg of the Rabbit, the Dog, the Guinea-Pig, +and the Deer, while other embryologists have traced the same process in +Birds, Reptiles, and Fishes, as well as in a variety of Articulates, +Mollusks, and Radiates. + +Multiplication by division occurs also normally in adult animals that +have completed their growth. This is especially frequent among Worms; +and strange to say, there are species in this Class which never lay eggs +before they have already multiplied themselves by self-division. + +Another mode of increase is that by budding, as in the Corals and many +other Radiates. The most common instance of budding we do not, however, +generally associate with this mode of multiplication in the Animal +Kingdom, because we are so little accustomed to compare and generalize +upon phenomena that we do not see to be directly connected with one +another. I allude here to the budding of trees, which year after year +enlarge by the addition of new individuals arising from buds. I trust +that the usual acceptation of the word _individual_, used in science +simply to designate singleness of existence, will not obscure a correct +appreciation of the true relation of buds to their parents and to the +beings arising from them. These buds have the same organic significance, +whether they drop from the parent stock to become distinct individuals +in the common acceptation of the term, or remain connected with +the parent stock, as in Corals and in trees, thus forming growing +communities of combined individuals. Nor will it matter much in +connection with the subject under discussion, whether these buds start +from the surface of an animal or sprout in its interior, to be cast off +in due time. Neither is the inequality of buds, varying more or less +among themselves, any sound reason for overlooking their essential +identity of structure. We have seen instances of this among Acalephs, +and it is still more apparent among trees which produce simultaneously +leaf and flower-buds, and even separate male and female flower-buds, as +is the case with our Hazels, Oaks, etc. + +It is not, however, my purpose here to describe the various modes of +reproduction and multiplication among animals and plants, nor to discuss +the merits of the different opinions respecting their numeric increase, +according to which some persons hold that all types originated from a +few primitive individuals, while others believe that the very numbers +now in existence are part of the primitive plan, and essential to the +harmonious relations existing between the animal and vegetable world. I +would only attempt to show that in the plan of Creation the maintenance +of types has been secured through a variety of means, but under such +limitations, that, within a narrow range of individual differences, all +representatives of one kind of animals agree with one another, whether +derived from eggs, or produced by natural division, or by budding; and +that the constancy of these normal processes of reproduction, as well as +the uniformity of their results, precludes the idea that the specific +differences among animals have been produced by the very means that +secure their permanence of type. The statement itself implies a +contradiction, for it tells us that the same influences prevent and +produce change in the condition of the Animal Kingdom. Facts are all +against it; there is not a fact known to science by which any single +being, in the natural process of reproduction and multiplication, has +diverged from the course natural to its kind, or in which a single kind +has been transformed into any other. But this once established, and +setting aside the idea that Embryology is to explain to us the origin as +well as the maintenance of life, it yet has most important lessons for +us, and the field it covers is constantly enlarging as the study +is pursued. The first and most important result of the science of +Embryology was one for which the scientific world was wholly unprepared. +Down to our own century, nothing could have been farther from the +conception of anatomists and physiologists than the fact now generally +admitted, that all animals, without exception, arise from eggs. Though +Linnaeus had already expressed this great truth in the sentence so often +quoted,--"Omne vivum ex ovo,"--yet he was not himself aware of the +significance of his own statement, for the existence of the Mammalian +egg was not then dreamed of. Since then the discoveries of von Baer and +others have shown not only that the egg is common to all living beings +without exception, from the lowest Radiate to the highest Vertebrate, +but that its structure is at first identical in all, composed of the +same primitive elements and undergoing exactly the same process of +growth up to the time when it assumes the special character peculiar +to its kind. This is unquestionably one of the most comprehensive +generalizations of modern times. + +In common parlance, we understand by an egg something of the nature of a +hen's egg, a mass of yolk surrounded with white and inclosed in a shell. +But to the naturalist, the envelopes of the egg, which vary greatly in +different animals, are mere accessories, while the true egg, or, as it +is called, the ovarian egg, with which the life of every living being +begins, is a minute sphere, uniform in appearance throughout the Animal +Kingdom, though its intimate structure is hardly to be reached even with +the highest powers of the microscope. Some account of the earlier stages +of growth in the egg may not be uninteresting to my readers. I will +take the egg of the Turtle as an illustration, since that has been the +subject of my own especial study; but, as I do not intend to carry my +remarks beyond the period during which the history of all vertebrate +eggs is the same, they may be considered of more general application. + +It is well known that all organic structures, whether animal or +vegetable, are composed of cells. These cells consist of an outside bag +inclosing an inner sac, and within that sac there is a dot. The outer +bag is filled with semi-transparent fluid, the inner one with a +perfectly transparent fluid, while the dot is dark and distinct. In the +language of our science, the outer envelope is called the Ectoblast, the +inner sac the Mesoblast, and the dot the Entoblast. Although they are +peculiarly modified to suit the different organs, these cells never lose +this peculiar structure; it may be traced even in the long drawn-out +cells of the flesh, which are like mere threads, but yet have their +outer and inner sac and their dot,--at least while forming. + +In the Turtle the ovary is made up of such cells, spherical at first, +but becoming hexagonal under pressure, when they are more closely packed +together. Between these ovarian cells the egg originates, and is at +first a mere granule, so minute, that, when placed under a very high +magnifying power, it is but just visible. This is the incipient egg, +and at this stage it differs from the surrounding cells only in being +somewhat darker, like a drop of oil, and opaque, instead of transparent +and clear like the surrounding cells. Under the microscope it is found +to be composed of two substances only: namely, oil and albumen. It +increases gradually, and when it has reached a size at which it requires +to be magnified one thousand times in order to be distinctly visible, +the outside assumes the aspect of a membrane thicker than the interior +and forming a coating around it. This is owing not to an addition from +outside, but to a change in the consistency of the substance at the +surface, which becomes more closely united, more compact, than the +loose mass in the centre. Presently we perceive a bright, luminous, +transparent spot on the upper side of the egg, near the wall or outer +membrane. This is produced by a concentration of the albumen, which +now separates from the oil and collects at the upper side of the egg, +forming this light spot, called by naturalists the Purkinjean vesicle, +after its discoverer, Purkinje. When this albuminous spot becomes +somewhat larger, there arises a little dot in the centre,--the germinal +dot, as it is called. And now we have a perfect cell-structure, +differing from an ordinary cell only in having the inner sac, inclosing +the dot, on the side, instead of in the centre. The outer membrane +corresponds to the Ectoblast, or outer cell sac, the Purkinjean vesicle +to the Mesoblast, or inner cell sac, while the dot in the centre answers +to the Entoblast. When the Purkinjean vesicle has completed its growth, +it bursts and disappears; but the mass contained in it remains in the +same region, and retains the same character, though no longer inclosed +as before. + +At a later stage of the investigation, we see why the Purkinjean +vesicle, or inner sac of the egg, is placed on the side, instead of +being at the centre, as in the cell. It arises on that side along which +the axis of the little Turtle is to lie,--the opposite side being that +corresponding to the lower part of the body. Thus the lighter, more +delicate part of the substance of the egg is collected where the upper +cavity of the animal, inclosing the nervous system and brain, is to +be, while the heavy oily part remains beneath, where the lower cavity, +inclosing all the organs of mere material animal existence, is +afterwards developed. In other words, when the egg is a mere mass of +oil and albumen, not indicating as yet in any way the character of the +future animal, and discernible only by the microscope, the distinction +is indicated between the brains and the senses, between the organs of +instinct and sensation and those of mere animal functions. At that stage +of its existence, however, when the egg consists of an outer sac, an +inner sac, and a dot, its resemblance to a cell is unmistakable; and, +in fact, an egg, when forming, is nothing but a single cell. This +comparison is important, because there are both animals and plants +which, during their whole existence, consist of a single organic cell, +while others are made up of countless millions of such cells. Between +these two extremes we have all degrees, from the innumerable cells that +build up the body of the highest Vertebrate to the single-celled Worm, +and from the myriad cells of the Oak to the single-celled Alga. + +But while we recognize the identity of cell-structure and egg-structure +at this point in the history of the egg, we must not forget the great +distinction between them,--namely, that, while the cells remain +component parts of the whole body, the egg separates itself and assumes +a distinct individual existence. Even now, while still microscopically +small, its individuality begins; other substances collect around it, are +absorbed into it, nourish it, serve it. Every being is a centre about +which many other things cluster and converge, and which has the power to +assimilate to itself the necessary elements of its life. Every egg is +already such a centre, differing from the cells that surround it by +no material elements, but by the principle of life in which its +individuality consists, which is to make it a new being, instead of a +fellow-cell with those that build up the body of the parent animal and +remain component parts of it. This intangible something is the subtile +element that eludes our closest analysis; it is the germ of the +immaterial principle according to which the new being is to develop. The +physical germ we see; the spiritual germ we cannot see, though we may +trace its action on the material elements through which it is expressed. + +The first change in the yolk, after the formation of the Purkinjean +vesicle, is the appearance of minute dots near the wall at the side +opposite the vesicle. These increase in number and size, but remain +always on that half of the yolk, leaving the other half of the globe +clear. One can hardly conceive the beauty of the egg as seen through the +microscope at this period of its growth, when the whole yolk is divided, +with the dark granules on one side, while the other side, where the +transparent halo of the vesicle is seen, is brilliant with light. With +the growth of the egg these granules enlarge, become more distinct, and +under the microscope some of them appear to be hollow. They are not +round in form, but rather irregular, and under the effect of light they +are exceedingly brilliant. Presently, instead of being scattered equally +over the space they occupy, they form clusters,--constellations, as it +were,--and between these clusters are clear spaces, produced by the +separation of the albumen from the oil. + +At this period of its growth there is a wonderful resemblance between +the appearance of the egg, as seen under the microscope, and +the firmament with the celestial bodies. The little clusters or +constellations are unequally divided: here and there they are two and +two like double stars, or sometimes in threes or fives, or in sevens, +recalling the Pleiades, and the clear albuminous tracks between are like +the empty spaces separating the stars. + +This is no fanciful simile: it is simply true that such is the actual +appearance of the yolk at this time; and the idea cannot but suggest +itself to the mind, that the thoughts which have been at work in the +universe are collected and repeated here within this little egg, which +offers us a miniature diagram of the firmament. This is one of the first +changes of the yolk, ending by forming regular clusters with a sort +of net-work of albumen between, and then this phase of the growth is +complete. + +Now the clusters of the yolk separate, and next the albumen in its turn +concentrates into clusters, and the dark bodies, which have been till +now the striking points, give way to the lighter spheres of albumen +between which the clusters are scattered. Presently the whole becomes +redissolved: these stages of the growth being completed, this little +system of worlds is melted, as it were: but while it undergoes this +process, the albuminous spheres, after being dissolved, arrange +themselves in concentric rings, alternating with rings of granules, +around the Purkinjean vesicle. At this time we are again reminded of +Saturn and its rings, which seems to have its counterpart here. These +rings disappear, and now once more out of the yolk mass loom up little +dots as minute as before; but they are round instead of angular, and +those nearest the Purkinjean vesicle are smaller and clearer, containing +less of oil than the larger and darker ones on the opposite side. From +this time the yolk begins to take its color, the oily cells assuming a +yellow tint, while the albuminous cells near the vesicle become whiter. + +Up to this period the processes in the different cells seem to have been +controlled by the different character of the substance of each; but now +it would seem that the changes become more independent of physical or +material influences, for each kind of cell undergoes the same process. +They all assume the ordinary cell character, with outer and inner +sac,--the inner sac forming on the side, like the Purkinjean vesicle +itself; but it does not retain this position, for, as soon as its wall +is formed and it becomes a distinct body, it floats away from the side +and takes its place in the centre. Next there arise within it a number +of little bodies crystalline in form, and which actually are wax or oil +crystals. They increase with great rapidity, the inner sac or mesoblast +becoming sometimes so crowded with them, that its shape is affected by +the protrusion of their angles. This process goes on till all the cells +are so filled by the mesoblast, with its myriad brood of cells, that +the outer sac or ectoblast becomes a mere halo around it. Then every +mesoblast contracts; the contraction deepens, till it is divided across +in both directions, separating thus into four parts, then into eight, +then into sixteen, and so on, till every cell is crowded with hundreds +of minute mesoblasts, each containing the indication of a central dot or +entoblast. At this period every yolk cell is itself like a whole yolk; +for each cell is as full of lesser cells as the yolk-bag itself. + +When the mesoblast has become thus infinitely subdivided into hundreds +of minute spheres, the ectoblast bursts, and the new generations of +cells thus set free collect in that part of the egg where the embryonic +disk is to arise. This process of segmentation continues to go on +downward till the whole yolk is taken in. These myriad cells are in +fact the component parts of the little Turtle that is to be. They will +undergo certain modifications, to become flesh-cells, blood-cells, +brain-cells, and so on, adapting themselves to the different organs they +are to build up; but they have as much their definite and appointed +share in the formation of the body now as at any later stage of its +existence. + +We are so accustomed to see life maintained through a variety of +complicated organs that we are apt to think this the only way in which +it can be manifested; and considering how closely life and the organs +through which it is expressed are united, it is natural that we should +believe them inseparably connected. But embryological investigations +have shown us that in the commencement none of these organs are formed, +and yet that the principle of life is active, and that even after they +exist, they cannot act, inclosed as they are. In the little Chicken, for +instance, before it is hatched, the lungs cannot breathe, for they +are surrounded by fluid, the senses are inactive, for they receive no +impressions from without, and all those functions establishing its +relations with the external world lie dormant, for as yet they are not +needed. But they are there, though, as we have seen in the Turtle's egg, +they were not there at the beginning. How, then, are they formed? We may +answer, that the first function of every organ is to make itself. The +building material is, as it were, provided by the process which divides +the yolk into innumerable cells, and by the gradual assimilation and +modification of this material the organs arise. Before the lungs +breathe, they make themselves; before the stomach digests, it makes +itself; before the organs of the senses act, they make themselves; +before the brain thinks, it makes itself; in a word, before the whole +system works, it makes itself; its first office is self-structure. + +At the period described above, however, when the new generations of +cells are just set free and have taken their place in the region where +the new being is to develop, nothing is to be seen of the animal whose +life is beginning there, except the filmy disk lying on the surface of +the yolk. Next come the layers of white or albumen around the egg, and +last the shell which is formed from the lime in the albumen. There is +always more or less of lime in albumen, and the hardening of the last +layer of white into shell is owing only to the greater proportion of +lime in its substance. In the layer next to the shell there is enough of +lime to consolidate it slightly, and it forms a membrane; but the white, +the membrane, and the shell have all the same quality, except that the +proportion of lime is more or less in the different layers. + +But, as I have said, the various envelopes of eggs, the presence or +absence of a shell, and the absolute size of the egg, are accessory +features, belonging not to the egg as egg, but to the special kind of +being from which the egg has arisen and into which it is to develop. +What is common to all eggs and essential to them all is that which +corresponds to the yolk in the bird's egg. But their later mode of +development, the degree of perfection acquired by the egg and germ +before being laid, the term required for the germ to come to maturity, +as well as the frequency and regularity of the broods, are all features +varying with the different kinds of animals. There are those that lay +eggs once a year at a particular season and then die; so that their +existence may be compared to that of annual plants, undergoing their +natural growth in a season, to exist during the remainder of the year +only in the form of an egg or seed. The majority of Insects belong to +this category, as do also our large Jelly-Fishes; many others have a +slow growth, extending over several years, during which they reach their +maturity, and for a longer or shorter time produce broods at fixed +intervals; while others, again, reach their mature state very rapidly, +and produce a number of successive generations in a comparatively short +time, it may be in a single season. + +I do not intend to enter upon the chapter of special differences of +development among animals, for in this article I have aimed only to show +that the egg lives, that it is itself the young animal, and that +the vital principle is active in it from the earliest period of its +existence. But I would say to all young students of Embryology that +their next aim should be to study those intermediate phases in the life +of a young animal, when, having already acquired independent existence, +it has not yet reached the condition of the adult. Here lies an +inexhaustible mine of valuable information unappropriated, from which, +as my limited experience has already taught me, may be gathered the +evidence for the solution of the most perplexing problems of our +science. Here we shall find the true tests by which to determine the +various kinds and different degrees of affinity which animals now living +bear not only to one another, but also to those that have preceded them +in past times. Here we shall find, not a material connection by which +blind laws of matter have evolved the whole creation out of a single +germ, but the clue to that intellectual conception which spans the whole +series of the geological ages and is perfectly consistent in all its +parts. In this sense the present will indeed explain the past, and the +young naturalist is happy who enters upon his life of investigation now, +when the problems that were dark to all his predecessors have received +new light from the sciences of Palaeontology and Embryology. + + * * * * * + + +BLIND TOM. + + + Only a germ in a withered flower, + That the rain will bring out--sometime. + +Sometime in the year 1850, a tobacco-planter in Southern Georgia +(Perry H. Oliver by name) bought a likely negro woman with some other +field-hands. She was stout, tough-muscled, willing, promised to be a +remunerative servant; her baby, however, a boy a few months old, was +only thrown in as a makeweight to the bargain, or rather because Mr. +Oliver would not consent to separate mother and child. Charity only +could have induced him to take the picaninny, in fact, for he was but +a lump of black flesh, born blind, and with the vacant grin of idiocy, +they thought, already stamped on his face. The two slaves were +purchased, I believe, from a trader: it has been impossible, therefore, +for me to ascertain where Tom was born, or when. Georgia field-hands +are not accurate as Jews in preserving their genealogy; _they_ do +not anticipate a Messiah. A white man, you know, has that vague hope +unconsciously latent in him, that he is, or shall give birth to, the +great man of his race, a helper, a provider for the world's hunger: so +he grows jealous with his blood; the dead grandfather may have presaged +the possible son; besides, it is a debt he owes to this coming Saul to +tell him whence he came. There are some classes, free and slave, out of +whom society has crushed this hope: they have no clan, no family-names +among them, therefore. This idiot-boy, chosen by God to be anointed with +the holy chrism, is only "Tom,"--"Blind Tom," they call him in all the +Southern States, with a kind cadence always, being proud and fond +of him; and yet--nothing but Tom? That is pitiful. Just a +mushroom-growth,--unkinned, unexpected, not hoped for, for generations, +owning no name to purify and honor and give away when he is dead. His +mother, at work to-day in the Oliver plantations, can never comprehend +why her boy is famous; this gift of God to him means nothing to her. +Nothing to him, either, which is saddest of all; he is unconscious, +wears his crown as an idiot might. Whose fault is that? Deeper than +slavery the evil lies. + +Mr. Oliver did his duty well to the boy, being an observant and +thoroughly kind master. The plantation was large, heartsome, faced the +sun, swarmed with little black urchins, with plenty to eat, and nothing +to do. + +All that Tom required, as he fattened out of baby- into boyhood, was +room in which to be warm, on the grass-patch, or by the kitchen-fires, +to be stupid, flabby, sleepy,--kicked and petted alternately by the +other hands. He had a habit of crawling up on the porches and verandas +of the mansion and squatting there in the sun, waiting for a kind word +or touch from those who went in and out. He seldom failed to receive it. +Southerners know nothing of the physical shiver of aversion with which +even the Abolitionists of the North touch the negro: so Tom, through his +very helplessness, came to be a sort of pet in the family, a playmate, +occasionally, of Mr. Oliver's own infant children. The boy, creeping +about day after day in the hot light, was as repugnant an object as the +lizards in the neighboring swamp, and promised to be of as little use to +his master. He was of the lowest negro type, from which only field-hands +can be made,--coal-black, with protruding heels, the ape-jaw, +blubber-lips constantly open, the sightless eyes closed, and the head +thrown far back on the shoulders, lying on the back, in fact, a habit +which he still retains, and which adds to the imbecile character of +the face. Until he was seven years of age, Tom was regarded on the +plantation as an idiot, not unjustly; for at the present time his +judgment and reason rank but as those of a child four years old. He +showed a dog-like affection for some members of the household,--a son +of Mr. Oliver's especially,--and a keen, nervous sensitiveness to the +slightest blame or praise from them,--possessed, too, a low animal +irritability of temper, giving way to inarticulate yelps of passion when +provoked. That is all, so far; we find no other outgrowth of intellect +or soul from the boy: just the same record as that of thousands of +imbecile negro-children. Generations of heathendom and slavery have +dredged the inherited brains and temperaments of such children tolerably +clean of all traces of power or purity,--palsied the brain, brutalized +the nature. Tom apparently fared no better than his fellows. + +It was not until 1857 that those phenomenal powers latent in the boy +were suddenly developed, which stamped him the anomaly he is to-day. + +One night, sometime in the summer of that year, Mr. Oliver's family were +wakened by the sound of music in the drawing-room: not only the simple +airs, but the most difficult exercises usually played by his daughters, +were repeated again and again, the touch of the musician being timid, +but singularly true and delicate. Going down, they found Tom, who had +been left asleep in the hall, seated at the piano in an ecstasy of +delight, breaking out at the end of each successful fugue into shouts of +laughter, kicking his heels and clapping his hands. This was the first +time he had touched the piano. + +Naturally, Tom became a nine-days' wonder on the plantation. He was +brought in as an after-dinner's amusement; visitors asked for him as the +show of the place. There was hardly a conception, however, in the minds +of those who heard him, of how deep the cause for wonder lay. The +planters' wives and daughters of the neighborhood were not people +who would be apt to comprehend music as a science, or to use it as a +language; they only saw in the little negro, therefore, a remarkable +facility for repeating the airs they drummed on their pianos,--in a +different manner from theirs, it is true,--which bewildered them. They +noticed, too, that, however the child's fingers fell on the keys, +cadences followed, broken, wandering, yet of startling beauty and +pathos. The house-servants, looking in through the open doors at the +little black figure perched up before the instrument, while unknown, +wild harmony drifted through the evening air, had a better conception +of him. He was possessed; some ghost spoke through him: which is a fair +enough definition of genius for a Georgian slave to offer. + +Mr. Oliver, as we said, was indulgent. Tom was allowed to have constant +access to the piano; in truth, he could not live without it; when +deprived of music now, actual physical debility followed: the gnawing +Something had found its food at last. No attempt was made, however, to +give him any scientific musical teaching; nor--I wish it distinctly +borne in mind--has he ever at any time received such instruction. + +The planter began to wonder what kind of a creature this was which he +had bought, flesh and soul. In what part of the unsightly baby-carcass +had been stowed away these old airs, forgotten by every one else, +and some of them never heard by the child but once, but which he now +reproduced, every note intact, and with whatever quirk or quiddity of +style belonged to the person who originally had sung or played them? +Stranger still the harmonies which he had never heard, had learned from +no man. The sluggish breath of the old house, being enchanted, grew into +quaint and delicate whims of music, never the same, changing every day. +Never glad: uncertain, sad minors always, vexing the content of the +hearer,--one inarticulate, unanswered question of pain in all, making +them one. Even the vulgarest listener was troubled, hardly knowing +why,--how sorry Tom's music was! + +At last the time came when the door was to be opened, when some +listener, not vulgar, recognizing the child as God made him, induced his +master to remove him from the plantation. Something ought to be done for +him; the world ought not to be cheated of this pleasure; besides--the +money that could be made! So Mr. Oliver, with a kindly feeling for Tom, +proud, too, of this agreeable monster which his plantation had grown, +and sensible that it was a more fruitful source of revenue than +tobacco-fields, set out with the boy, literally to seek their fortune. + +The first exhibition of him was given, I think, in Savannah, Georgia; +thence he was taken to Charleston, Richmond, to all the principal cities +and towns in the Southern States. + +This was in 1858. From that time until the present Tom has lived +constantly an open life, petted, feted, his real talent befogged by +exaggeration, and so pampered and coddled that one might suppose the +only purpose was to corrupt and wear it out. For these reasons this +statement is purposely guarded, restricted to plain, known facts. + +No sooner had Tom been brought before the public than the pretensions +put forward by his master commanded the scrutiny of both scientific +and musical skeptics. His capacities were subjected to rigorous tests. +Fortunately for the boy: for, so tried,--harshly, it is true, yet +skilfully,--they not only bore the trial, but acknowledged the touch +as skilful; every day new powers were developed, until he reached his +limit, beyond which it is not probable he will ever pass. That limit, +however, establishes him as an anomaly in musical science. + +Physically, and in animal temperament, this negro ranks next to the +lowest Guinea type: with strong appetites and gross bodily health, +except in one particular, which will be mentioned hereafter. In the +every-day apparent intellect, in reason or judgment, he is but one +degree above an idiot,--incapable of comprehending the simplest +conversation on ordinary topics, amused or enraged with trifles such +as would affect a child of three years old. On the other side, his +affections are alive, even vehement, delicate in their instinct as a +dog's or an infant's; he will detect the step of any one dear to him in +a crowd, and burst into tears, if not kindly spoken to. + +His memory is so accurate that he can repeat, without the loss of a +syllable, a discourse of fifteen minutes in length, of which he does +not understand a word. Songs, too, in French or German, after a single +hearing, he renders not only literally in words, but in notes, style, +and expression. His voice, however, is discordant, and of small compass. + +In music, this boy of twelve years, born blind, utterly ignorant of a +note, ignorant of every phase of so-called musical science, interprets +severely classical composers with a clearness of conception in which +he excels, and a skill in mechanism equal to that of our second-rate +artists. His concerts usually include any themes selected by the +audience from the higher grades of Italian or German opera. His +comprehension of the meaning of music, as a prophetic or historical +voice which few souls utter and fewer understand, is clear and vivid: he +renders it thus, with whatever mastery of the mere material part he may +possess, fingering, dramatic effects, etc.: these are but means to him, +not an end, as with most artists. One could fancy that Tom was never +traitor to the intent or soul of the theme. What God or the Devil meant +to say by this or that harmony, what the soul of one man cried aloud to +another in it, this boy knows, and is to that a faithful witness. His +deaf, uninstructed soul has never been tampered with by art-critics who +know the body well enough of music, but nothing of the living creature +within. The world is full of these vulgar souls that palter with eternal +Nature and the eternal Arts, blind to the Word who dwells among us +therein. Tom, or the daemon in Tom, was not one of them. + +With regard to his command of the instrument, two points have been +especially noted by musicians: the unusual frequency of occurrence of +_tours de force_ in his playing, and the scientific precision of his +manner of touch. For example, in a progression of augmented chords, his +mode of fingering is invariably that of the schools, not that which +would seem most natural to a blind child never taught to place a finger. +Even when seated with his back to the piano, and made to play in that +position, (a favorite feat in his concerts,) the touch is always +scientifically accurate. + +The peculiar power which Tom possesses, however, is one which requires +no scientific knowledge of music in his audiences to appreciate. +Placed at the instrument with any musician, he plays a perfect bass +accompaniment to the treble of music _heard for the first time as +he plays_. Then taking the seat vacated by the other performer, he +instantly gives the entire piece, intact in brilliancy and symmetry, not +a note lost or misplaced. The selections of music by which this power +of Tom's was tested, two years ago, were sometimes fourteen and sixteen +pages in length; on one occasion, at an exhibition at the White House, +after a long concert, he was tried with two pieces,--one thirteen, the +other twenty pages long, and was successful. + +We know of no parallel case to this in musical history. Grimm tells us, +as one of the most remarkable manifestations of Mozart's infant genius, +that at the age of nine he was required to give an accompaniment to an +aria which he had never heard before, and without notes. There were +false accords in the first attempt, he acknowledges; but the second was +pure. When the music to which Tom plays _secondo_ is strictly classical, +he sometimes balks for an instant in passages; to do otherwise would +argue a creative power equal to that of the master composers; but when +any chordant harmony runs through it, (on which the glowing negro soul +can seize, you know,) there are no "false accords," as with the infant +Mozart. I wish to draw especial attention to this power of the boy, not +only because it is, so far as I know, unmatched in the development of +any musical talent, but because, considered in the context of his +entire intellectual structure, it involves a curious problem. The mere +repetition of music heard but once, even when, as in Tom's case, it +is given with such incredible fidelity, and after the lapse of years, +demands only a command of mechanical skill, and an abnormal condition of +the power of memory; but to play _secondo_ to music never heard or seen +implies the comprehension of the full drift of the symphony in its +current,--a capacity to create, in short. Yet such attempts as Tom has +made to dictate music for publication do not sustain any such inference. +They are only a few light marches, gallops, etc., simple and plaintive +enough, but with easily detected traces of remembered harmonies: very +different from the strange, weird improvisations of every day. One would +fancy that the mere attempt to bring this mysterious genius within him +in bodily presence before the outer world woke, too, the idiotic nature +to utter its reproachful, unable cry. Nor is this the only bar by which +poor Tom's soul is put in mind of its foul bestial prison. After any +too prolonged effort, such as those I have alluded to, his whole bodily +frame gives way, and a complete exhaustion of the brain follows, +accompanied with epileptic spasms. The trial at the White House, +mentioned before, was successful, but was followed by days of illness. + +Being a slave, Tom never was taken into a Free State; for the same +reason his master refused advantageous offers from European managers. +The highest points North at which his concerts were given were Baltimore +and the upper Virginia towns. I heard him sometime in 1860. He remained +a week or two in the town, playing every night. + +The concerts were unique enough. They were given in a great barn of +a room, gaudy with hot, soot-stained frescoes, chandeliers, walls +splotched with gilt. The audience was large, always; such as a +provincial town affords: not the purest bench of musical criticism +before which to bring poor Tom. Beaux and belles, siftings of old +country families, whose grandfathers trapped and traded and married with +the Indians,--the savage thickening of whose blood told itself in high +cheekbones, flashing jewelry, champagne-bibbing, a comprehension of +the tom-tom music of schottisches and polkas; money-made men and their +wives, cooped up by respectability, taking concerts when they were given +in town, taking the White Sulphur or Cape May in summer, taking beef for +dinner, taking the pork-trade in winter,--_toute la vie en programme_; +the _debris_ of a town, the roughs, the boys, school-children,--Tom was +nearly as well worth a quarter as the negro-minstrels; here and there +a pair of reserved, homesick eyes, a peculiar, reticent face, some +whey-skinned ward-teacher's, perhaps, or some German cobbler's, but +hints of a hungry soul, to whom Beethoven and Mendelssohn knew how +to preach an unerring gospel. The stage was broad, planked, with a +drop-curtain behind,--the Doge marrying the sea, I believe; in front, a +piano and chair. + +Presently, Mr. Oliver, a well-natured looking man, (one thought of +that,) came forward, leading and coaxing along a little black boy, +dressed in white linen, somewhat fat and stubborn in build. Tom was +not in a good humor that night; the evening before had refused to play +altogether; so his master perspired anxiously before he could get him +placed in rule before the audience, and repeat his own little speech, +which sounded like a Georgia after-dinner gossip. The boy's head, as +I said, rested on his back, his mouth wide open constantly; his great +blubber lips and shining teeth, therefore, were all you saw when +he faced you. He required to be petted and bought like any other +weak-minded child. The concert was a mixture of music, whining, coaxing, +and promised candy and cake. + +He seated himself at last before the piano, a full half-yard distant, +stretching out his arms full-length, like an ape clawing for +food,--his feet, when not on the pedals, squirming and twisting +incessantly,--answering some joke of his master's with a loud "Yha! +yha!" Nothing indexes the brain like the laugh; this was idiotic. + +"Now, Tom, boy, something we like from Verdi." + +The head fell farther back, the claws began to work, and those of his +harmonies which you would have chosen as the purest exponents of passion +began to float through the room. Selections from Weber, Beethoven, and +others whom I have forgotten, followed. At the close of each piece, +Tom, without waiting for the audience, would himself applaud violently, +kicking, pounding his hands together, turning always to his master +for the approving pat on the head. Songs, recitations such as I have +described, filled up the first part of the evening; then a musician from +the audience went upon the stage to put the boy's powers to the final +test. Songs and intricate symphonies were given, which it was most +improbable the boy could ever have heard; he remained standing, +utterly motionless, until they were finished, and for a moment or two +after,--then, seating himself, gave them without the break of a +note. Others followed, more difficult, in which he played the bass +accompaniment in the manner I have described, repeating instantly the +treble. The child looked dull, wearied, during this part of the trial, +and his master, perceiving it, announced the exhibition closed, when the +musician (who was a citizen of the town, by-the-way) drew out a +thick roll of score, which he explained to be a Fantasia of his own +composition, never published. + +"_This_ it was impossible the boy could have heard; there could be no +trick of memory in this; and on this trial," triumphantly, "Tom would +fail." + +The manuscript was some fourteen pages long,--variations on an inanimate +theme. Mr. Oliver refused to submit the boy's brain to so cruel a test; +some of the audience, even, interfered; but the musician insisted, and +took his place. Tom sat beside him,--his head rolling nervously from +side to side,--struck the opening cadence, and then, from the first note +to the last, gave the _secondo_ triumphantly. Jumping up, he fairly +shoved the man from his seat, and proceeded to play the treble with more +brilliancy and power than its composer. When he struck the last octave, +he sprang up, yelling with delight:-- + +"Um's got him, Massa! um's got him!" cheering and rolling about the +stage. + +The cheers of the audience--for the boys especially did not wait to +clap--excited him the more. It was an hour before his master could quiet +his hysteric agitation. + +That feature of the concerts which was the most painful I have not +touched upon: the moments when his master was talking, and Tom was left +to himself,--when a weary despair seemed to settle down on the distorted +face, and the stubby little black fingers, wandering over the keys, +spoke for Tom's own caged soul within. Never, by any chance, a merry, +childish laugh of music in the broken cadences; tender or wild, a +defiant outcry, a tired sigh breaking down into silence. Whatever +wearied voice it took, the same bitter, hopeless soul spoke through all: +"Bless me, even me, also, O my Father!" A something that took all the +pain and pathos of the world into its weak, pitiful cry. + +Some beautiful caged spirit, one could not but know, struggled for +breath under that brutal form and idiotic brain. I wonder when it will +be free. Not in this life: the bars are too heavy. + +You cannot help Tom, either; all the war is between you. He was in +Richmond in May. But (do you hate the moral to a story?) in your own +kitchen, in your own back-alley, there are spirits as beautiful, caged +in forms as bestial, that you _could_ set free, if you pleased. Don't +call it bad taste in me to speak for them. You know they are more to be +pitied than Tom,--for they are dumb. + + + + +KINDERGARTEN--WHAT IS IT? + + +What is a Kindergarten? I will reply by negatives. It is not +the old-fashioned infant-school. That was a narrow institution, +comparatively; the object being (I do not speak of Pestalozzi's own, +but that which we have had in this country and in England) to take +the children of poor laborers, and keep them out of the fire and the +streets, while their mothers went to their necessary labor. Very good +things, indeed, in their way. Their principle of discipline was to +circumvent the wills of children, in every way that would enable their +teachers to keep them within bounds, and quiet. It was certainly better +that they should learn to sing _by rote_ the Creed and the "definitions" +of scientific terms, and such like, than to learn the profanity and +obscenity of the streets, which was the alternative. But no mother who +wished for anything which might be called the _development_ of her child +would think of putting it into an infant-school, especially if she lived +in the country, amid + + "the mighty sum + Of things forever speaking," + +where any "old grey stone" would altogether surpass, as a stand-point, +the bench of the highest class of an infant-school. In short, they +did not state the problem of infant culture with any breadth, and +accomplished nothing of general interest on the subject. + +Neither is the primary public school a Kindergarten, though it is +but justice to the capabilities of that praiseworthy institution, so +important in default of a better, to say that in one of them, at the +North End of Boston, an enterprising and genial teacher has introduced +one feature of Froebel's plan. She has actually given to each of her +little children a box of playthings, wherewith to amuse itself +according to its own sweet will, at all times when not under direct +instruction,--necessarily, in her case, on condition of its being +perfectly quiet; and this one thing makes this primary school the best +one in Boston, both as respects the attainments of the scholars and +their good behavior. + +_Kindergarten_ means a garden of children, and Froebel, the inventor of +it, or rather, as he would prefer to express it, _the discoverer of the +method of Nature_, meant to symbolize by the name the spirit and plan +of treatment. How does the gardener treat his plants? He studies their +individual natures, and puts them into such circumstances of soil and +atmosphere as enable them to grow, flower, and bring forth fruit,--also +to renew their manifestation year after year. He does not expect to +succeed unless he learns all their wants, and the circumstances in which +these wants will be supplied, and all their possibilities of beauty and +use, and the means of giving them opportunity to be perfected. On the +other hand, while he knows that they must not be forced against their +individual natures, he does not leave them to grow wild, but prunes +redundancies, removes destructive worms and bugs from their leaves and +stems, and weeds from their vicinity,--carefully watching to learn what +peculiar insects affect what particular plants, and how the former can +be destroyed without injuring the vitality of the latter. After all the +most careful gardener can do, he knows that the form of the plant is +predetermined in the germ or seed, and that the inward tendency must +concur with a multitude of influences, the most powerful and subtile of +which is removed in place ninety-five millions of miles away. + +In the Kindergarten _children_ are treated on an analogous plan. It +presupposes gardeners of the mind, who are quite aware that they have as +little power to override the characteristic individuality of a child, or +to predetermine this characteristic, as the gardener of plants to say +that a lily shall be a rose. But notwithstanding this limitation on +one side, and the necessity for concurrence of the Spirit on the +other,--which is more independent of our modification than the remote +sun,--yet they must feel responsible, after all, for the perfection of +the development, in so far as removing every impediment, preserving +every condition, and pruning every redundance. + +This analogy of education to the gardener's art is so striking, both as +regards what we can and what we cannot do, that Froebel has put every +educator into a most suggestive Normal School, by the very word which he +has given to his seminary,--Kindergarten. + +If every school-teacher in the land had a garden of flowers and fruits +to cultivate, it could hardly fail that he would learn to be wise in his +vocation. For suitable preparation, the first, second, and third thing +is, to + + "Come forth into the light of things, + Let Nature be your teacher." + +The "new education," as the French call it, begins with children in the +mother's arms. Froebel had the nurses bring to his establishment, in +Hamburg, children who could not talk, who were not more than three +months old, and trained the nurses to work on his principles and by his +methods. This will hardly be done in this country, at least at present; +but to supply the place of such a class, a lady of Boston has prepared +and published, under copyright, Froebel's First Gift, consisting of six +soft balls of the three primary and the three secondary colors, which +are sold in a box, with a little manual for mothers, in which the true +principle and plan of tending babies, so as not to rasp their nerves, +but to amuse without wearying them, is very happily suggested. There +is no mother or nurse who would not be assisted by this little manual +essentially. As it says in the beginning,--"Tending babies is an art, +and every art is founded on a science of observations; for love is not +wisdom, but love must act _according to wisdom_ in order to succeed. +Mothers and nurses, however tender and kind-hearted, may, and oftenest +do, weary and vex the nerves of children, in well-meant efforts to amuse +them, and weary themselves the while. Froebel's exercises, founded on +the observations of an intelligent sensibility, are intended to amuse +without wearying, to educate without vexing." + +Froebel's Second Gift for children, adapted to the age from one to two +or three years, with another little book of directions, has also been +published by the same lady, and is perhaps a still greater boon to every +nursery; for this is the age when many a child's temper is ruined, +and the inclination of the twig wrongly bent, through sheer _want of +resource and idea_, on the part of nurses and mothers. + +But it is to the next age--from three years old and upwards--that the +Kindergarten becomes the desideratum, if not a necessity. The isolated +home, made into a flower-vase by the application of the principles set +forth in the Gifts[A] above mentioned, may do for babies. But every +mother and nurse knows how hard it is to meet the demands of a child +too young to be taught to read, but whose opening intelligence and +irrepressible bodily activity are so hard to be met by an adult, however +genial and active. Children generally take the temper of their whole +lives from this period of their existence. Then "the twig is bent," +either towards that habit of self-defence which is an ever-renewing +cause of selfishness, or to the sun of love-in-exercise, which is the +exhaustless source of goodness and beauty. + +[Footnote A: These Gifts, the private enterprise of an invalid lady, the +same who first brought the subject of Kindergartens so favorably before +the public in the _Christian Examiner_ for November, 1858, can be +procured at the Kindergarten, 15 Pinckney Street, Boston.] + +The indispensable thing now is a sufficient society of children. It is +only in the society of equals that the social instinct can be gratified, +and come into equilibrium with the instinct of self-preservation. +Self-love, and love of others, are equally natural; and before reason +is developed, and the proper spiritual life begins, sweet and beautiful +childhood may bloom out and imparadise our mortal life. Let us only give +the social instinct of children its fair chance. For this purpose, a few +will not do. The children of one family are not enough, and do not +come along fast enough. A large company should be gathered out of many +families. It will be found that the little things are at once taken out +of themselves, and become interested in each other. In the variety, +affinities develop themselves very prettily, and the rough points of +rampant individualities wear off. We have seen a highly gifted child, +who, at home, was--to use a vulgar, but expressive word--pesky and +odious, with the exacting demands of a powerful, but untrained mind and +heart, become "sweet as roses" spontaneously, amidst the rebound of +a large, well-ordered, and carefully watched child-society. Anxious +mothers have brought us children, with a thousand deprecations and +explanations of their characters, as if they thought we were going to +find them little monsters, which their motherly hearts were persuaded +they were not, though they behaved like little sanchos at home,--and, +behold, they were as harmonious, from the very beginning, as if they had +undergone the subduing influence of a lifetime. We are quite sure that +children begin with loving others quite as intensely as they love +themselves,--forgetting themselves in their love of others,--if they +only have as fair a chance of being benevolent and self-sacrificing as +of being selfish. Sympathy is as much a natural instinct as self-love, +and no more or less innocent, in a moral point of view. Either principle +alone makes an ugly and depraved form of natural character. Balanced, +they give the element of happiness, and the conditions of spiritual +goodness and truth,--making children fit temples for the Holy Ghost to +dwell in. + +A Kindergarten, then, is children in society,--a commonwealth or +republic of children,--whose laws are all part and parcel of the +Higher Law alone. It may be contrasted, in every particular, with the +old-fashioned school, which is an absolute monarchy, where the children +are subjected to a lower expediency, having for its prime end quietness, +or such order as has "reigned in Warsaw" since 1831. + +But let us not be misunderstood. We are not of those who think that +children, in any condition whatever, will inevitably develop into beauty +and goodness. Human nature tends to revolve in a vicious circle, around +the individuality; and children must have over them, in the person of +a wise and careful teacher, a power which shall deal with them as God +deals with the mature, presenting the claims of sympathy and truth +whenever they presumptuously or unconsciously fall into selfishness. We +have the best conditions of moral culture in a company large enough for +the exacting disposition of the solitary child to be balanced by the +claims made by others on the common stock of enjoyment,--there being +a reasonable oversight of older persons, wide-awake to anticipate, +prevent, and adjust the rival pretensions which must always arise where +there are finite beings with infinite desires, while Reason, whose +proper object is God, is yet undeveloped. + +Let the teacher always take for granted that the law of love is quick +within, whatever are appearances, and the better self will generally +respond. In proportion as the child is young and unsophisticated, will +be the certainty of the response to a teacher of simple faith: + + "There are who ask not if thine eye + Be on them,--who, in love and truth, + Where no misgiving is, rely + Upon the genial sense of youth. + + "And blest are they who in the main + This faith even now do entertain, + Live in the spirit of this creed, + Yet find another strength, according to their + need." + +Such are the natural Kindergartners, who prevent disorder by employing +and entertaining children, so that they are kept in an accommodating and +loving mood by never being thrown on self-defence,--and when selfishness +is aroused, who check it by an appeal to sympathy, or Conscience, which +is the presentiment of reason, a fore-feeling of moral order, for whose +culture material order is indispensable. + +But order must be kept by the child, not only unconsciously, but +intentionally. Order is the child of reason, and in turn cultivates the +intellectual principle. To bring out order on the physical plane, the +Kindergarten makes it a serious purpose to organize _romping_, and set +it to music, which cultivates the physical nature also. Romping is the +ecstasy of the body, and we shall find that in proportion as children +tend to be violent they are vigorous in body. There is always morbid +weakness of some kind where there is no instinct for hard play; and it +begins to be the common sense that energetic physical activity must +not be repressed, but favored. Some plan of play prevents the little +creatures from hurting each other, and fancy naturally furnishes the +plan,--the mind unfolding itself in fancies, which are easily quickened +and led in harmless directions by an adult of any resource. Those who +have not imagination themselves must seek the aid of the Kindergarten +guides, where will be found arranged to music the labors of the peasant, +and cooper, and sawyer, the wind-mill, the watermill, the weather-vane, +the clock, the pigeon-house, the hares, the bees, and the cuckoo. +Children delight to personate animals, and a fine genius could not +better employ itself than in inventing a great many more plays, setting +them to rhythmical words, describing what is to be done. Every variety +of bodily exercise might be made and kept within the bounds of order and +beauty by plays involving the motions of different animals and machines +of industry. Kindergarten plays are easy intellectual exercises; for +to do anything whatever with a thought beforehand develops the mind +or quickens the intelligence; and thought of this kind does not try +intellect, or check physical development, which last must never be +sacrificed in the process of education. + +There are enough instances of marvellous acquisition in infancy to show +that imbibing with the mind is as natural as with the body, if suitable +beverage is put to the lips; but in most cases the mind's power is +balanced by instincts of body, which should have priority, if they +cannot certainly be in full harmony. The mind can afford to wait for the +maturing of the body, for it survives the body; while the body cannot +afford to wait for the mind, but is irretrievably stunted, if the +nervous energy is not free to stimulate its special organs at least +equally with those of the mind. + +It is not, however, necessary to sacrifice the culture of either mind or +body, but to harmonize them. They can and ought to grow together. They +mutually help each other. + +Doctor Dio Lewis's "Free Exercises" are also suitable to the +Kindergarten, and may be taken in short lessons of a quarter of an hour, +or even of ten minutes. Children are fond of precision also, and it will +be found that they like the teaching best, when they are made to do the +exercises exactly right, and in perfect time to the music. + +But the regular gymnastics and the romping plays must be alternated with +quiet employments, of course, but still active. They will sing at their +plays by rote; and also should be taught other songs by rote. But there +can be introduced a regular drill on the scale, which should never last +more than ten minutes at a time. This, if well managed, will cultivate +their ears and voices, so that in the course of a year they will become +very expert in telling any note struck, if not in striking it. The ear +is cultivated sooner than the voice, and they may be taught to name the +octave as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and their imaginations impressed by +drawing a ladder of eight rounds on the blackboard, to signify that the +voice rises by regular gradation. This will fix their attention, and +their interest will not flag, if the teacher has any tact. + +Slates and pencils are indispensable in a Kindergarten from the first. +One side of a slate can be ruled with a sharp point in small squares, +and if their fancy is interested by telling them to make a fish-net, +they will carefully make their pencils follow these lines,--which makes +a first exercise in drawing. Their little fingers are so unmanageable +that at first they will not be able to make straight lines even with +this help. For variety, little patterns can be given them, drawn on +the blackboard, (or on paper similarly ruled,) of picture-frames and +patterns for carpets. When they can make squares well, they can be +shown how to cross them with diagonals, and make circles inside of the +squares, and outside of them, and encouraged to draw on the other side +of the slate, from their own fancy, or from objects. Entire sympathy and +no destructive criticism should meet every effort. Self-confidence is +the first requisite for success. If they think they have had success, it +is indispensable that it should be echoed from without. Of course there +will be poor perspective; and even Schmidt's method of perspective +cannot be introduced to very young children. A natural talent for +perspective sometimes shows itself, which by-and-by can be perfected by +Schmidt's method.[B] + +[Footnote B: See _Common School Journal_ for 1842-3.] + +But little children will not draw long at a time. Nice manipulation, +which is important, can be taught, and the eye for form cultivated, by +drawing for them birds and letting them prick the lines. It will enchant +them to have something pretty to carry home now and then. Perforated +board can also be used to teach them the use of a needle and thread. +They will like to make the outlines of ships and steamboats, birds, +etc., which can be drawn for them with a lead pencil on the board by the +teachers. Weaving strips of colored card-board into papers cut for them +is another enchanting amusement, and can be made subservient to teaching +them the harmonies of colors. In the latter part of the season, when +they have an accumulation of pricked birds, or have learned to draw +them, they can be allowed colors to paint them in a rough manner. It is, +perhaps, worth while to say, that, in teaching children to draw on +their slates, it is better for the teacher to draw at the moment on the +blackboard than to give them patterns of birds, utensils, etc., because +then the children will see how to begin and proceed, and are not +discouraged by the mechanical perfection of their model. + +Drawing ought always rather to precede reading and writing, as the +minute appreciation of forms is the proper preparation for these. But +reading and writing may come into Kindergarten exercises at once, if +reading is taught by the phonic method, (which saves all perplexity to +the child's brain,) and accompanied by printing on the slate. It then +alternates with other things, as one of the amusements. We will describe +how we have seen it taught. The class sat before a blackboard, with +slates and pencils. The teacher said, "Now let us make all the sounds +that we can with the lips: First, put the lips gently together and sound +m," (not _em_,)--which they all did. Then she said,--"Now let us draw +it on the blackboard,--three short straight marks by the side of each +other, and join them on the top,--that is m. What is it?" They sounded +m, and made three marks and joined them on the top, with more or less +success. The teacher said,--"Now put your lips close together and say +p." (This is mute and to be whispered). They all imitated the motion +made. She said,--"Now let us write it; one straight mark, then the +upper lip puffed out at the top." M and p, to be written and +distinguished, are perhaps enough for one lesson, which should not reach +half an hour in length. At the next lesson these were repeated again. +Then the teacher said,--"Now put your lips together and make the same +motion as you did to say p; but make a little more sound, and it will be +b" (which is sonorous). "You must write it differently from p;--you must +make a short mark and put the _under_ lip on." "Now put your teeth on +your under lip and say f." (She gave the power.) "You must write it by +making a short straight mark make a bow, and then cross it with a little +mark across the middle." "Now fix your lips in the same manner and sound +a little, and you will make v. Write it by making two little marks meet +at the bottom." + +This last letter was made a separate lesson of, and the other lessons +were reviewed. The teacher then said,--"Now you have learned some +letters,--all the lip--letters,"--making them over, and asking what each +was. She afterwards added w,--giving its power and form, and put it with +the lip-letters. At the next lesson they were told to make the letters +with their lips, and she wrote them down on the board, and then said,-- +"Now we will make some tooth-letters. Put your teeth together and say +t." (She gave the power, and showed them how to write it.) "Now put your +teeth together and make a sound and it will be d." "That is written just +like b, only we put the lip behind." "Now put your teeth together and +hiss, and then make this little crooked snake (s). Then fix your teeth +in the same manner and buzz like a bee. You write z pointed this way." +"Now put your teeth together and say j, written with a dot." At the +next lessons the throat-letters were given; first the hard guttural +was sounded, and they were told three ways to write it, c, k, q, +distinguished as _round_, _high_, and _with a tail_. C was not sounded +_see_, but _ke_ (ke, ka, ku). Another lesson gave them the soft guttural +g, but did not sound it _jee_; and the aspirate, but did not call it +_aitch_. + +Another lesson gave the vowels, (or voice-letters, as she called them,) +and it was made lively by her writing afterwards all of them in one +word, _mieaou_, and calling it the cat's song. It took from a week +to ten days to teach these letters, one lesson a day of about twenty +minutes. Then came words: mamma, papa, puss, pussy, etc. The vowels were +always sounded as in Italian, and i and y distinguished as _with the +dot_ and _with a tail_. At first only one word was the lesson, and the +letters were reviewed in their divisions of lip-letters, throat-letters, +tooth-letters, voice-letters. The latter were sounded the Italian way, +as in the words _a_rm, _e_gg, _i_nk, _o_ak, and Per_u_. This teacher had +Miss Peabody's "First Nursery Reading-Book," and when she had taught the +class to make all the words on the first page of it, she gave each of +the children the book and told them to find first one word and then +another. It was a great pleasure to them to be told that now they could +read. They were encouraged to copy the words out of the book upon their +slates. + +The "First Nursery Reading-Book" has in it _no_ words that have +exceptions in their spelling to the sounds given to the children as +the powers of the letters. Nor has it any diphthong or combinations of +letters, such as oi, ou, ch, sh, th. After they could read it at sight, +they were told that all words were not so regular, and their attention +was called to the initial sounds of thin, shin, and chin, and to the +proper diphthongs, ou, oi, and au, and they wrote words considering +these as additional characters. Then "Mother Goose" was put into their +hands, and they were made to read by rote the songs they already knew +by heart, and to copy them. It was a great entertainment to find the +_queer_ words, and these were made the nucleus of groups of similar +words which were written on the blackboard and copied on their slates. + +We have thought it worth while to give in detail this method of teaching +to read, because it is the most entertaining to children to be taught +so, and because many successful instances of the pursual of this plan +have come under our observation; and one advantage of it has been, +that the children so taught, though never going through the common +spelling-lessons, have uniformly exhibited a rare exactness in +orthography. + +In going through this process, the children learn to print very nicely, +and generally can do so sooner than they can read. It is a small matter +afterwards to teach them to turn the print into script. They should be +taught to write with the lead pencil before the pen, whose use need not +come into the Kindergarten. + +But we must not omit one of the most important exercises for children +in the Kindergarten,--that of block-building. Froebel has four Gifts of +blocks. Ronge's "Kindergarten Guide" has pages of royal octavo filled +with engraved forms that can be made by variously laying eight little +cubes and sixteen little planes two inches long, one inch broad, and +one-half an inch thick. Chairs, tables, stables, sofas, garden-seats, +and innumerable forms of symmetry, make an immense resource for +children, who also should be led to invent other forms and imitate other +objects. So quick are the fancies of children, that the blocks will +serve also as symbols of everything in Nature and imagination. We have +seen an ingenious teacher assemble a class of children around her large +table, to each of whom she had given the blocks. The first thing was to +count them, a great process of arithmetic to most of them. Then she made +something and explained it. It was perhaps a light-house,--and some +blocks would represent rocks near it to be avoided, and ships sailing in +the ocean; or perhaps it was a hen-coop, with chickens inside, and a fox +prowling about outside, and a boy who was going to catch the fox and +save the fowls. Then she told each child to make something, and when it +was done hold up a hand. The first one she asked to explain, and then +went round the class. If one began to speak before another had ended, +she would hold up her finger and say,--"It is not your turn." In the +course of the winter, she taught, over these blocks, a great deal about +the habits of animals. She studied natural history in order to be +perfectly accurate in her symbolic representation of the habitation of +each animal, and their enemies were also represented by blocks. The +children imitated these; and when they drew upon their imaginations for +facts, and made fantastic creations, she would say,--"Those, I think, +were Fairy hens" (or whatever); for it was her principle to accept +everything, and thus tempt out their invention. The great value of this +exercise is to get them into the habit of representing something they +have thought by an outward symbol. The explanations they are always +eager to give teach them to express themselves in words. Full scope is +given to invention, whether in the direction of possibilities or of the +impossibilities in which children's imaginations revel,--in either case +the child being trained to the habit of embodiment of its thought. + +Froebel thought it very desirable to have a garden where the children +could cultivate flowers. He had one which he divided into lots for the +several children, reserving a portion for his own share in which they +could assist him. He thought it the happiest mode of calling their +attention to the invisible God, whose power must be waited upon, after +the conditions for growth are carefully arranged according to _laws_ +which they were to observe. Where a garden is impossible, a flowerpot +with a plant in it for each child to take care of would do very well. + +But the best way to cultivate a sense of the presence of God is to draw +the attention to the conscience, which is very active in children, and +which seems to them (as we all can testify from our own remembrance) +another than themselves, and yet themselves. We have heard a person say, +that in her childhood she was puzzled to know which was herself, the +voice of her inclination or of her conscience, for they were palpably +two, and what a joyous thing it was when she was first convinced that +one was the Spirit of God, whom unlucky teaching had previously embodied +in a form of terror on a distant judgment-seat. Children are consecrated +as soon as they get the spiritual idea, and it may be so presented that +it shall make them happy as well as true. But the adult who enters into +such conversation with a child must be careful not to shock and profane, +instead of nurturing the soul. It is possible to avoid both discouraging +and flattering views, and to give the most tender and elevating +associations. + +But children require not only an alternation of physical and mental +amusements, but some instruction to be passively received. They delight +in stories, and a wise teacher can make this subservient to the highest +uses by reading beautiful creations of the imagination. Not only such +household-stories as "Sanford and Merton," Mrs. Farrar's "Robinson +Crusoe," and Salzmann's "Elements of Morality," but symbolization like +the heroes of Asgard, the legends of the Middle Ages, classic and +chivalric tales, the legend of Saint George, and "Pilgrim's Progress," +can in the mouth of a skilful reader be made subservient to moral +culture. The reading sessions should not exceed ten or fifteen minutes. + +Anything of the nature of scientific teaching should be done by +presenting _objects_ for examination and investigation.[C] Flowers and +insects, shells, etc., are easily handled. The observations should be +drawn out of the children, not made to them, except as corrections of +their mistakes. Experiments with the prism, and in crystallization +and transformation, are useful and desirable to awaken taste for +the sciences of Nature. In short, the Kindergarten should give the +beginnings of everything. "What is well begun is half done." + +[Footnote C: Calkin's _Object Lessons_ will give hints.] + +We must say a word about the locality and circumstances of a +Kindergarten. There is published in Lausanne, France, a newspaper +devoted to the interests of this mode of education, in whose early +numbers is described a Kindergarten; which seems to be of the nature of +a boarding-school, or, at least, the children are there all day. Each +child has a garden, and there is one besides where they work in common. +There are accommodations for keeping animals, and miniature tools to do +mechanical labor of various kinds. In short, it is a child's world. But +in this country, especially in New England, parents would not consent +to be so much separated from their children, and a few hours of +Kindergarten in the early part of the day will serve an excellent +purpose,--using up the effervescent activity of children, who may +healthily be left to themselves the rest of the time, to play or rest, +comparatively unwatched. + +Two rooms are indispensable, if there is any variety of age. It is +desirable that one should be sequestrated to the quiet employments. A +pianoforte is desirable, to lead the singing, and accompany the plays, +gymnastics, frequent marchings, and dancing, when that is taught,--which +it should be. But a hand-organ which plays fourteen tunes will help to +supply the want of a piano, and a guitar in the hands of a ready teacher +will do better than nothing. + +Sometimes a genial mother and daughters might have a Kindergarten, and +devote themselves and the house to it, especially if they live in one +of our beautiful country-towns or cities. The habit, in the city of New +York, of sending children to school in an omnibus, hired to go round the +city and pick them up, suggests the possibility of a Kindergarten in one +of those beautiful residences up in town, where there is a garden before +or behind the house. It is impossible to keep Kindergarten _by the +way_. It must be the main business of those who undertake it; for it is +necessary that every individual child should be borne, as it were, on +the heart of the _garteners_, in order that it be _inspired_ with order, +truth, and goodness. To develop a child from within outwards, we must +plunge ourselves into its peculiarity of imagination and feeling. No +one person could possibly endure such absorption, of life in labor +unrelieved, and consequently two or three should unite in the +undertaking in order to be able to relieve each other from the enormous +strain on life. The compensations are, however, great. The charm of the +various individuality, and of the refreshing presence of conscience yet +unprofaned, is greater than can be found elsewhere in this work-day +world. Those were not idle words which came from the lips of Wisdom +Incarnate:--"Their angels do always behold the face of my Father": "Of +such is the kingdom of heaven." + + + + +A PICTURE. + +[AFTER WITHER.] + + + Sweet child, I prithee stand, + While I try my novel hand + At a portrait of thy face, + With its simple childish grace. + + Cheeks as soft and finely hued + As the fleecy cloud imbued + With the roseate tint of morn + Ere the golden sun is born:-- + Lips that like a rose-hedge curl, + Guarding well the gates of pearl, + --What care I for pearly gate? + By the rose-hedge will I wait:-- + Chin that rounds with outline fine, + Melting off in hazy line; + As in misty summer noon, + Or beneath the harvest moon, + Curves the smooth and sandy shore, + Flowing off in dimness hoar:-- + Eyes that roam like timid deer + Sheltered by a thicket near, + Peeping out between the boughs, + Or that, trusting, safely browse:-- + Arched o'er all the forehead pure, + Giving us the prescience sure + Of an ever-growing light; + As in deepening summer night, + Over fields to ripen soon + Hangs the silver crescent moon. + + * * * * * + + +TWO AND ONE. + + +I. + + +The winter sun streamed pleasantly into the room. On the tables lay the +mother's work of the morning,--the neatly folded clothes she had just +been ironing. A window was opened a little way to let some air into the +room too closely heated by the brisk fire. The air fanned the leaves of +the ivy-plant that stood in the window, and of the primrose which +seemed ready to open in the warm sun. Above, there hung a cage, and a +canary-bird shouted out now and then its pleasure at the sunny day, with +a half-dream perhaps of a tropical climate in the tropical air with +which the coal-fire filled the room. Mrs. Schroder leaned back in her +old-fashioned rocking-chair, and folded her hands, one over the other, +ready to rest after her morning's labor. She was willing to take the +repose won by her work; indeed, this was the only way she had managed to +preserve her strength for all the work it was necessary for her to do. +She had been conscious that her powers had answered for just so much and +no more, and she had never been able to make further demands upon them. + +When years before she was left a widow, with two sons to support and +educate, all her friends and neighbors prophesied that her health would +prove unequal to either work, and agreed that it was very fortunate that +she had a rich relation or two to help her. But, unfortunately, the rich +relations preferred helping only in their own way. One uncle agreed to +send the older boy to his father's relations in Germany, while the other +wished to take the younger with him to his home in the South; and an +aunt-in-law promised Mrs. Schroder work enough as seamstress to support +herself. + +It is singular how hard it is, for those who have large means and +resources, to understand how to supply the little wants and needs of +those less fortunate. The smallest stream in the mountains will find its +way through some little channel, over rocks, or slowly through quiet +meadows, into the great rivers, and finally feeds the deep sea, which +is very thankless, and thinks little of restoring what is so prodigally +poured into it. It only knows how to sway up with its grand tide upon +the broad beaches, or to wrestle with turreted rocks, or, for some +miles, perhaps, up the great rivers, it is willing to leave some flavor +of its salt strength. So it is that we little ones, to the last, pour +out our little stores into the great seas of wealth,--and the Neptunes, +the gods of riches, scarcely know how to return us our due, if they +would. + +When Mrs. Schroder, then, refused these kindly offers, because she knew +that her husband had wished his boys should be brought up together and +in America, and because she could not separate them from each other or +from herself, the relations thought best to leave her to her own will, +and drew back, feeling that they had done their part for humanity and +kinship. Now and then Mrs. Schroder received a present of a worn +shawl or a bonnet out of date, and one New Year there came inclosed a +dollar-bill apiece for the boys. Ernest threw his into the fire before +his mother could stop him, while Harry said he would spend his for the +very meanest thing he could think of; and that very night he bought some +sausages with it, to satisfy, as he said, only their lowest wants. + +Mrs. Schroder succeeded in carrying out her will, in spite of prophecy. +Her very delicacy of body led her to husband her strength, while the +boys very early learned that they must help their mother to get through +her day's work. Her feebleness of health helped her, too, in another +way,--by stopping their boy-quarrels. + +"Boys, don't wrangle so! If you knew how it makes my head ache!" + +When these words came from the mother resting in her chair, the quarrel +ceased suddenly. It ended without settlement, to be sure, which is the +best way of finishing up quarrels. There are always seeds of new wars +sown in treaties of peace. Austria is not content with her share of +Poland, and Russia privately determines upon another bite of Turkey. +John thinks it very unjust that he must give up his ball to Tom, and +resolves to have the matter out when they get down into the street; +while Tom, equally dissatisfied, feels that he has been treated like a +baby, and despises the umpire for the partial decision. + +These two boys, indeed, had their perpetual quarrel. Harry, the older, +always got on in the world. He had a strong arm, a jolly face, and a +solid opinion of himself that made its way without his asking for it. +Ernest, on the other hand, was obliged to be constantly dependent on his +brother for defence, for his position with other boys at school,--as he +grew up, for his position in life, even. Harry was the favorite always. +The schoolmaster--or teacher, as we call him nowadays--liked Harry best, +although he was always in scrapes, and often behindhand in his studies, +while Ernest was punctual, quiet, and always knew his lessons, though +his eyes looked dreamily through his books rather than into them. + +Harry had great respect for Ernest's talent, made way for it, would +willingly work for him. Ernest accepted these benefits: he could not +help it, they were so generously offered. But the consciousness that +he could not live without them weighed him down and made him moody. He +alternately reproached himself for his ingratitude, and his brother for +his favors. Sometimes he called himself a slave for being willing to +accept them; at other times he would blame himself as a tyrant for +making such demands upon an elder brother. + +As Mrs. Schroder leaned back in her chair after her morning's labor, +the door opened, and a young girl came into the room. She had a fresh, +bright face, a brown complexion, a full, round figure. She came in +quickly, nodded cheerily to Mrs. Schroder, and knelt down in front of +the fire to warm her hands. + +"I did want to come in this morning," she said,--"the very last day! I +should have liked to help you about Ernest's things. But Aunt Martha +must needs have a supernumerary wash, and I have just come in from +hanging the last of the clothes upon the line." + +"It is very good of you, Violet," answered Mrs. Schroder, "but I was +glad to-day to have plenty to do. It is the thinking that troubles me. +My boys are grown up into men, and Ernest is going! It is our first +parting. To-day I would rather work than think." + +Violet was the young girl's name. A stranger might think that the name +did not suit her. In her manner was nothing of the shrinking nature that +is a characteristic of the violet. Timidity and reserve she probably did +have somewhere in her heart,--as all women do,--but it had never been +her part to play them out. She had all her life been called upon to show +only energy, activity, and self-reliance. She was an only child, and +had been obliged to be son and daughter, brother and sister in one. Her +father was the owner of the house in which were the rooms occupied by +Mrs. Schroder and her sons. The little shop on the lower floor was his +place of business. He was a watchmaker, had a few clocks on the shelves +of his small establishment, and a limited display of jewelry in the +window, together with a supply of watch-keys, and minute-hands and +hour-hands for decayed watches. For though his sign proclaimed him a +watchmaker, his occupation perforce was rather that of repairing and +cleaning watches and clocks than in the higher branch of creation. + +Violet's childhood was happy enough. She was left in unrestrained +liberty outside of the little back-parlor, where her Aunt Martha +held sway. Out of school-hours, her joy and delight were to join the +school-boys in their wildest plays. She climbed fences, raced up and +down alley-ways, stormed inoffensive door-yards, chased wandering +cats with the best of them. She was a favorite champion among the +boys,--placed at difficult points of espionage, whether it were over +beast, man, woman, or boy. She was proud of mounting some imaginary +rampart, or defending some dangerous position. Sometimes a taunt was +hurled from the enemy upon her allies for associating with a "girl;" but +it always received a contemptuous answer,--"You'd better look out, she +could lick any one of you!" And at the reply, Violet would look down +from her post on the picketed fence, shake her long curls triumphantly, +and climb to some place inaccessible to the enemy, to show how useful +her agility could be to her own party. + +The time of sorrow came at twilight, when the boys separated for their +homes,--when Harry and Ernest clattered up to their mother's rooms. They +could be boys still. They might throw open the house-doors with a +shout and halloo, and fling away caps and boots with no more than an +uncared-for reprimand. But Violet must go noiselessly through the dark +entry, and, as she turned to close the door that let her into the +parlor, she was greeted by Aunt Martha's "Now do shut the door quietly!" +As she lowered the latch without any sound, she would say to herself, +"Why is it that boys must have all the fun, and girls all the work?" +She felt as if she shut out liberty and put on chains. Her work began +then,--to lay the tea-table, to fetch and carry as Aunt Martha ordered. +All this was pleasanter than the quiet evening that followed, because +she liked the occupation and motion. But to be quiet the whole evening, +that was a trial! After the tea-things were cleared away, she would +sit awhile by the stove, imagining all sorts of excitements in the +combustion within; but she could not keep still long without letting a +clatter of shovel and tongs, or some vigorous blows of the poker, show +what a glorious drum she thought the stove would make. Or if Aunt Martha +suggested her unloved and neglected dolls, she would retire to the +corner with them inevitably to come back in disgrace. Either the large +wooden-headed doll came noisily down from the high-backed chair, where +she had been placed as the Maid of Saragossa, or a suspicious smell of +burning arose, when Joan of Arc really did take fire from the candle on +her imaginary funeral-pile. Knitting was no more of a sedative, though +for many years it had stilled Aunt Martha's nerves. It was singular how +the cat contrived always to get hold of Violet's ball of yarn and keep +it, in spite of Violet's activity and the jolly chase she had for it all +round the room, over chairs and under tables. Even her father, during +these long evenings, often looked up over his round spectacles, through +which he was perusing a volume of the "Encyclopedia," to wonder if +Violet could never be quiet. + +As she grew up, there was activity enough in her life, through which her +temperament could let off its steam: a large house to be cared for and +kept in order, some of the lodgers to be waited upon, and Aunt Martha, +with her failing strength, more exacting than ever. Her evenings now +were her happy times, for she frequently spent them in Mrs. Schroder's +room. One of the economies in the Schroders' life was that their +pleasures were so cheap. What with Harry's genial gayety and Ernest's +spiritual humor, and the gayety and humor of the friends that loved +them, they did not have to pay for their hilarity on the stage. There +were quiet evenings and noisy ones, and Violet liked them both. She +liked to study languages with Ernest; she liked the books from the +City Library that they read aloud,--romances that were taken for +Mrs. Schroder's pleasure, Ruskins which Ernest enjoyed, and Harry's +favorites, which, to tell the truth, were few. He begged to be made the +reader,--otherwise, he confessed, he was in danger of falling asleep. + +Violet had grown up into a woman, and the boys had become men; and now +she was kneeling in front of Mrs. Schroder's fire. + +"Ernest's last day at home," she said, dreamily. "Oh, now I begin to +pity Harry!" + +"To pity Harry?" said Mrs. Schroder. "Yes, indeed! But it is Ernest that +I think of most. He is going away among strangers. He depends upon Harry +far more than Harry depends upon him." + +"It is just that," said Violet. "Harry has always been the one to give. +But it will be changed now, when Ernest comes home. You see, he will be +great then. He has been dependent upon us, all along, because genius +must move so slowly at first; but when he comes back, he will be above +us, and, oh! how shall we know where to find him?" + +"You do not mean that my boy will look down upon his mother?" said Mrs. +Schroder, raising herself in her chair. + +"Look down upon us?" cried Violet. "Oh, no! it is only the little that +do that, that they may appear to be high. The truly great never look +down. They are kneeling already, and they look up. If they only would +look down upon us! But it is the old story: the body can do for a while +without the spirit, can make its way in the world for a little, and +meantime the spirit is dependent upon the body. Of course it could not +live without the body,--what we call life. But by-and-by spirit must +assert itself, and find its wings. And where, oh, where, will it rise +to? Above us,--above us all!" + +"How strangely you talk!" said Mrs. Schroder, looking into Violet's +face. "What has this to do with poor Ernest?" + +"I was thinking of poor Harry," said Violet. "All this time he has been +working for Ernest. Harry has earned the money with which Ernest goes +abroad,--which he has lived upon all these years,--not only his daily +bread, but what his talent, his genius, whatever it is, has fed itself +with. Ernest is too unpractical to have been able even to feed himself!" + +"And he knows it, my poor Ernest!" said Mrs. Schroder. "This is why +he should be pitied. It is hard for a generous nature to owe all to +another. It has weighed Ernest down; it has embittered the love of the +two brothers." + +"But it is more bitter for Harry," persisted Violet. "All this time +Ernest could think of the grand return he could bring when his time +should come. But Harry! He brings the clay out of which Ernest moulds +the statue; but the spirit that Ernest breathes into the form,--will +Harry understand it or appreciate it? The body is very reverent of the +soul. But I think the spirit is not grateful enough to the body. There +comes a time when it says to it, 'I can do without thee!' and spurns the +kind comrade which has helped it on so far. Yet it could not have done +without the joy of color and form, of sight and hearing, that the body +has helped it to." + +"You do not mean that Ernest will ever spurn Harry?--they are brothers!" +said poor Mrs. Schroder. + +Violet looked round and saw the troubled expression in Mrs. Schroder's +face, and laughed as she laid her head caressingly in her friend's lap. + +"I have frightened you with my talk," she said. "I believe the hot air +in the room bewildered my senses and set me dreaming. Yes, Harry and +Ernest are brothers, and I believe they will always work together and +for each other. I have no business with forebodings, this laughing, +sunny day. The March sun is melting the icicles, and they came +clattering down upon me, as I was in the yard, with a happy, twinkling, +childish laugh. There are spring sounds all about, water melting and +dripping everywhere, full of joy. I am the last person, dear mother +Schroder, to make you feel sad." + +Violet got up quickly, and busied herself about the room: filled the +canary's cup with water, drew out the table, and made all the usual +preparations necessary for dinner, talking all the time gayly, till she +had dispersed all the clouds on Mrs. Schroder's brow, and then turned to +go away. + +"You will stay and see Harry and Ernest?" asked Mrs. Schroder. "They +have gone to make the last arrangements." + +"Not now," said Violet. "They will like to be alone with you. I will see +Ernest to bid him good-bye." + + +II. + + +Two years passed away. At the end of this time Mrs. Schroder died. They +had passed on, as years go, slowly and quickly. Sometimes, as a carriage +takes us through narrow city-streets, and we look in at the windows we +are passing, we wonder at the close life that is going on behind them, +and we say to ourselves, "How slow the life must be within those +confined walls!" At other times, when our own life is cramped or jarred +by circumstances, we look with envy on the happy family-circles we see +smiling within, and have a fancy that the roses have fallen to others, +and we only have the thorns. There are full years, and there are years +of famine, just as there come moments to all that seem like a life-time, +and lives that hurry themselves away in a passing of the pendulum. It is +of no use to shake the hour-glass; yet, when we are counting upon time, +the sands hurry down like snow-flakes. + +It was true, as Violet had foreboded, that Harry missed Ernest. He went +heavily about his work, and the house seemed silent without him. Harry +confessed this sadly to Violet, when his brother had been gone about a +year. They had heard from Ernest in Florence, that he was getting on +well. He had found occupation in the workshop of a famous sculptor, and +had time besides to carry out some of his own designs. + +"He writes me," said Harry, "that he will be able now to support +himself, and that he does not need my help. Do you know, Violet, that +takes the life out of me? I feel as if I had nothing to work for. I +always felt a pride in working for Ernest, because I thought he was +fitted for something better. Violet, it saddens me to think he can do +without me. I go to my daily work; I lift my hammer and let it fall; but +it is all mechanically; there is no vital force in the blow. It is hard +to live without him." + +"This is what I was afraid of," said Violet. "I was afraid he would +think he could do without us. But he cannot do without you." + +"Say that he cannot do without _us_" said Harry; "for he needs you, as I +need you, and the question is, with which the need is greater." + +Violet turned red and pale, and said,-- + +"We cannot answer that question yet." + +After Mrs. Schroder died, it was sad enough in the old rooms. In the +daytime, when Harry was away at his work, Violet would go up-stairs and +put all things in order, and make them look as nearly as possible as +they did when the mother was there. Harry came to pass his evenings with +Violet. + +A few days after his mother's death, he said to Violet,-- + +"Is it not time for you to tell me that it is I who need you more than +Ernest? He writes very happily now. He is succeeding; he has an order +for his statue. He writes and thinks of nothing else but what he will +create,--of the ideas that have been waiting for an expression. I am a +carpenter still, I shall never be more, and my work will always be less +and lower than my love. Could you be satisfied with him? He has attained +now, Ernest has, what he was looking for; and have I not a right to my +reward?" + +The tears tumbled from Violet's eyes. + +"Dear, noble Harry! I am not ready for you yet. I do believe he is above +us both, and satisfied to be above us both; but I am not ready yet." + +A day or two afterwards, Harry brought Violet a letter from Italy. It +was from an artist friend of Ernest's, whose wife and mother had kindly +received him into their home. Carlo wrote now that Ernest had been taken +very ill. They thought him recovering, but he was still very low, and +his mind depressed, and he continued scarcely conscious of those around +him. He talked wildly, and begged that his home friends would come to +him; and though his new Italian friends promised him all that kindness +could give, Carlo wrote to ask if it were not possible for his brother +or his mother to come out. He had been working very hard, was just +finishing an order that had occupied him the last year, and he had +overtasked his mind as well as his body. + +"You will go to him!" exclaimed Violet, when she had read the letter. + +"If nothing better can be done," answered Harry. "Only yesterday I made +a contract for work with a hard master. It would be difficult to break +it; but I will do it gladly, if there is nothing better to be done." + +"You mean that you would like to have me go to Ernest," said Violet. + +"Will you go?" asked Harry. "That will be the very best thing." + +Aunt Martha broke in here. She had been sitting quietly at the other +side of the table, as usual, apparently engrossed with her knitting. + +"You do not mean to send Violet to Italy, and to take care of Ernest?" +she exclaimed. "What are you thinking of? I would never consent to +Violet's going alone; it would not be proper." + +Violet grew crimson at the reproof. She was standing beneath the light, +and turned away her head. + +"Not if I were Harry's betrothed?" she asked. + +Aunt Martha looked up quickly. She saw the glad, relieved expression of +Harry's face. + +"If you are engaged to Harry, that is different, indeed!" she said. + +It did make a difference in Aunt Martha's thoughts. In the first place, +it gave her pleasure. Harry was well-to-do in, the world. He would make +a good husband for Violet, and a kindly one. She liked him better than +she did Ernest. She had supposed Violet would marry one or other of the +boys, and, "just because things went at cross-grain in the world," she +had always supposed Violet would prefer Ernest. She had never liked him +herself. He was always spinning cobwebs in his brain; she never could +understand a word of his talk. She did not believe he would live, and +then Violet would be left a poor widow, as his mother had been left when +her Hermann died. She remembered all about that. Ernest's absence had +encouraged her with regard to Harry; but two years had passed, and it +seemed to her the two were no nearer an engagement. + +But now it was settled; and if this foolish plan of Violet's going to +Italy had brought it about, the plan itself wore a different color. + +Aunt Martha said no more of the impropriety. She reserved her +complainings for the subject of the trouble of getting Violet ready, all +of a sudden, for such a voyage. + +Little trouble fell to Aunt Martha's share. Violet went about it gladly. +She advised directly with a friend who could tell her from experience +exactly how little she would want, while Harry completed all the +business arrangements. The activity, the adventure of it, suited +Violet's old tastes. She had no dread of a solitary voyage, of passing +through countries whose languages she could not speak. Though burdened +with anxiety for Ernest and for Harry, she went away with a glad heart. +Unconsciously to herself, she reversed her old exclamation, saying to +herself,-- + +"The men, indeed, should not have all the work, and the women all the +play!" + +The journey was in fact easily accomplished. At another time Violet's +thoughts would have been occupied with the scenes she passed through. +Now she travelled as a devotee travels heavenward, making a monastery of +the world, and convent-walls out of rays from Paradise. She thought +only of the end of her journey; and everything touched her through the +throbbings of her heart. On shipboard, she was busy with the poor old +sick father whom his children were carrying home to his native land. In +passing through Paris, she used all her time in helping a sister to find +a brother; because her energy was always helpful. In travelling across +France, she looked at her companions, asking herself to what home they +were going, what friends they were bound to meet. From Marseilles to +Leghorn, she was the only one of the women-passengers who was not sick; +and she was called upon for help in different languages, which she could +understand only through the teachings of her heart. + +It was this same teacher that led her to understand Ernest's friends in +Florence, when she had found them, and that led them to understand her. +Ernest was in much the same state as when they wrote. He was growing +stronger, but his mind seemed to wander. + +"And do you know, dear lady," said Monica, Carlo's mother, "that we fear +he has been starving,--starving, too, when we, his friends, had plenty, +and would have been glad to give him? He was to have been paid for his +work when he had finished it; and he had given up his other work for his +master, that be might complete his own statue. Oh, you should see that! +He is putting it into the marble,--or taking it out, rather, for it has +life almost, and springs from the stone." + +"But Ernest?" asked Violet. + +"Well, then, just for want of money, he was starving,--so the doctor +says, now. I suppose he was too proud to write home for money, and his +wages had stopped. And he was too proud to eat our bread. That was hard +of him. Just the poor food that we have, to think he should have been +too proud to let us give it him!--that was not kind." + +Ernest did not recognize Violet at first, but she took her place in the +daily care of him. Monica begged that she would prepare food for him +such as he had been used to have at home. She was very sure that would +cure him. It would be almost as good for him as his native air. She +was very glad a woman had come to take care of him. "His brother's +betrothed,--a sister,--she would bring him back to life as no one else +could." + +Violet did bring him back to life. Ernest had become so accustomed to +her presence in his half-conscious state, that he never showed surprise +at finding her there. He hardly showed pleasure; only in her absence his +feverish restlessness returned; in her presence he was quiet. + +He grew strong enough to come out into the air to walk a little. + +"I must go to work soon," he said one day. "Monsieur will be coming for +his Psyche." + +"Your Psyche! I have not seen it!" exclaimed Violet. "I have not dared +to raise the covering." + +They went in to look at it. Violet stood silent before it. Yes, as +Monica had said, it was ready to spring from the marble. It seemed +almost too spiritual for form, it scarcely needed the wings for flight, +it was ethereal already,--marble only so long as it remained unfinished. + +At last Violet spoke. + +"Do not let it go! Do not finish it; it will leave the marble then, I +know! Oh, Ernest, you have seen the spirit, and the spirit only! Could +not you hold it to earth more closely than that? It was too bold a +thought of you to try to mould the spirit alone. Is not the body +precious, too? Why wilt you be so careless of that?" + +"If the body would care for me," said Ernest, "I would care for the +body. Indeed, this work shows that I have cared for the body," he went +on. "One of these days, I shall receive money for my work; I have +already sold my Psyche. One lives on money, you know. But it is but a +poor battle,--the battle of life. I shall finish my Psyche, give it to +the man who buys it, and then"---- + +"And then you will come home, come home to us!" said Violet; "and we +will take care of you. You shall not miss your Psyche!" + +"And then," continued Ernest, shaking his head, "then I shall go into +Sicily. I shall help Garibaldi. I shall join the Italian cause." + +"Garibaldi! The cause!" exclaimed Violet. "Are you not ashamed to plead +it? You know you would go then not for others, but to throw away your +own life! You are tired of living, and you seek that way to rid yourself +of life! Confess it at once!" + +"Very well, then," answered Ernest, "it is so." + +"Then do not sully a good cause with a traitor's help," said Violet, +"nor take its noble name. The life you offer would be worth no more than +a spent ball. You have been a coward in your own fight, and Garibaldi +does not--nor does Italy--want a coward in his ranks. Oh, Ernest, +forgive me my hard words! but it is our life that you are spending so +freely, it is our blood that you want to pour out! If you cannot live +for yourself, for me, will you not live for Harry's sake?" + +"For you, for you, Heart's-Ease!" exclaimed Ernest, calling Violet by +one of her old childish names, "But Harry lives for you, and you for +him; and God knows there is no life left for me. But you are right: I am +a coward and a bungler, because I can create no life. I give myself to +you and him." + +Violet stood long before the statue of Psyche, cold as the marble, with +hot fires raging within. + +"He loves me, loves me as Harry does! His love is deeper, +perhaps,--higher, perhaps. He was not above me,--he lifted me above +himself, looked up to me! He dies for me!" + +Presently she found Ernest. + +"Ernest, you say you will do as we wish. I must go home directly, and +without you. I shall take a vessel from Leghorn. Harry and I planned my +going home that way. It is less expensive, more direct; and I confess I +do not feel so strong about going home alone as I did in coming. My head +is full of thoughts, and I could not take care of myself; but I would +rather go alone. You will stay here, and we will write to you, or Harry +will come for you. But you must take care of yourself; you must not +starve yourself." + +Her Italian friends accompanied her to the vessel and bade her good-bye, +Ernest was with them. She wrote to Harry the day she sailed. The vessel +looked comfortable enough; it was well-laden, and in its hold was the +marble statue of a great man,--great in worth as well as in weight. + +A few weeks after Violet left, Harry appeared in Florence. He had just +missed her letter. + +"I came to bring you both home," he said. "I finished my contract +successfully, and gave myself this little vacation." + +Harry was dismayed to find that Violet was gone. + +"But we will return directly, and arrive in time, perhaps, to greet her +as she gets home." + +Monica urged,-- + +"But you must not keep him long. See how much he has done in Italy! You +will see he must come back again." + +"Monsieur" had been for his statue, and was to send for it the next day, +more than satisfied with it. + +Harry was astonished. + +"Five hundred dollars! It would take me long enough to work that out! +Ah, Ernest, your hammering is worth more than mine!" + +Harry's surprise was not merely for the money earned. When he saw the +white marble figure, which brought into the poor room where it stood +grandeur and riches and life and grace, he wondered still more. + +"I see now," he said. "You spent your life on this. No wonder you were +starving when your spirit was putting itself into this mould!" + +Harry was in a hurry to return. Ernest's little affairs were quickly +settled. Harry was surprised to find Italian life was so like home life +in this one thing: he had been treated so kindly, just as he would have +been in his own home,--just as Mrs. Schroder, and even Aunt Martha, +would have treated a poor Italian stranger who had sought a lodging in +their house; they had welcomed Harry with the same warmth and feeling +with which they had all along cared for Ernest. This was something that +Harry knew how to translate. + +"When we were boys," he said to Ernest, as they set out to return, "and +you used to talk about Europe, we little thought I should travel into it +so carelessly as I did when I came here. I crossed it much as a pair of +compasses would on the map: my only points of rest were the home I left +and the one I was reaching for." + +Much in the same way they passed through it again. Harry spoke of +and observed outward things, but everything showed that it was but a +superficial observation. His thoughts were with Violet. + +"'The Nereid!' are you very sure the Nereid is a sound vessel?" he often +asked. + +"What should I know of the Nereid?" at last answered Ernest, +impatiently. + +"I believe you don't care a rush for Violet!" cried Harry. "You can have +dreams instead! Your Psyche, your winged angels and all your visions, +they suffice you. While for me,--I tell you, Ernest, she is my flesh and +blood, my meat and drink. To think of her alone on that ocean drives me +wild; that inexorable sea haunts me night and day." He turned to look at +Ernest, and saw him pale and livid. + +"God forgive me!" he said. "I know you love her, too! But it is our old +quarrel; we cannot understand each other, yet cannot live either of us +without the other. Yet I am glad to quarrel even in the old way. That is +pleasant, after all, is it not?" + +They had a long, stormy voyage home; and a delay in crossing France had +made them miss the steamer they hoped to take. At each delay, Ernest +grew more silent, sadder, his face darker, his features thinner and more +sharpened. Harry was wild in his impatience, and angry, but more and +more thoughtful and careful for Ernest. + +At last they reached the harbor. A friend met them who had been warned +of their arrival by telegraph from Halifax. He met them to tell them of +ill news; they would rather hear it from him. + +The Nereid was lost,--lost just outside the Bay,--the vessel, the crew, +all the passengers,--in a fearful storm of a week ago, the very storm +that had delayed their own passage. + +"Let us go home," said Harry. "Where is it?" asked Ernest. "Why were we +not lost in the same storm?" cried Harry. "How could we pass quietly +along the very place?" + +The brothers went home into the old room. Kindly hands had been caring +for it,--had tried to place all things in their accustomed order. Even +the canary had come back from Aunt Martha's parlor. + +There was a letter on the table. Harry saw that only. It was Violet's +letter, which she wrote on leaving Leghorn. He tore it from its +cover,--then gave it, opened, to Ernest. + +"You must read it for me,--I cannot!" and he hurried into an inner room. + +Ernest held the letter helplessly and looked round. For him there was +a double desolation in the room. The books stood untouched upon the +shelves; his mother's work-basket was laid aside. Suddenly there came +back to him the memory of that last day at home,--the joyous spring-day +in March,--which was so full of gay sounds. The clatter of the dropping +ice, the happy laugh of the water breaking into freedom, the song of the +canary, now hushed by the presence of strangers,--the thoughts of these +made gay even that moment of parting. And with them came the image of +the dear mother and of the warm-hearted Violet. Oh, the parting was +happier than the return! Now there was silence in the room, and +absence,--such unuse about all things,--such a terrible stillness! He +longed for a voice, for a sound, for words. + +In his hands were words, her own, her last words. Half unconsciously he +read through the letter, as if unwillingly too, because it might not +belong to him. Yet they were her words, and for him. + +"DEAR HARRY,-- + +"Do you know that I love him?--that I love Ernest? I ought to have known +it, just because I did not know how to confess it to myself or you. I +thought he was above us both; and when I pitied myself that he could not +love me, I pitied you, and my pity, perhaps, I mistook for love of you. +Perhaps I mistook it, for I know not but I was conscious all the time of +loving him. I learned the truth when I stood by the side of his Psyche, +and saw, that, though she hovered from the marble, though he had won +fame and success, he was unsatisfied still. It is true, he must always +remain unsatisfied, because it is his genius that thirsts, and it is my +ideal that he loves, not me. But he is dying; he asks for me. You never +could refuse him what he asked. You will give me to him? If you were not +so generous and noble-hearted, I could not ask you both for your pardon +and your pity. But you are both, and will do with me as you will. + +"Your + +"VIOLET." + +As Ernest finished reading, as he was fully comprehending the meaning of +the words which at first had struck him idly, Harry opened the door and +came in. Ernest could not look up at first. He thought, perhaps, he was +about to darken the sorrow already heavy enough upon his brother. + +But when Harry spoke and Ernest looked into his face, he saw there the +usual clear, strong expression. + +"I am going to tell you, Ernest, what I should have said before,--what I +went to Florence to tell you. + +"After Violet left, the whole truth began to come upon me. She loved +you; I had no right to her. She pitied me; that was why she clung to +me. You know I cannot think quickly. It was long before it all came out +clearly; but when it did come, I was anxious to act directly. I had +finished my work; I went to tell you that Violet was yours; she should +stay with you in that warm Italian sir that you liked so much; she +should bring you back to life. But I was too late. I know not if it is +my failure that has brought about this sorrow, or if God has taken it +into His own hands. I only know that she was yours living, she is yours +now. I must tell you that in the first moment of that terrible shock of +the loss, there came a wicked, selfish gleam of gladness that I had not +given her up to you. But I have wiped that out with my tears, and I can +tell you without shame that is yours, that I have given her to you." + +"We can both love her now," said Ernest. + +"If she were living, she might have separated us," said Harry; "but +since God has taken her, she makes us one." + +And the brothers read together Violet's letter. + + * * * * * + + +THE NEW ATLANTIC CABLE. + + +When the indefatigable Cyrus told our people, five years ago, that he +was going to lay a telegraph-cable in the bed of the ocean between +America and Europe, and place New York and London in instantaneous +communication, our wide-awake and enterprising fellow-citizens said very +coolly that they should like to see him do it!--a phrase intended to +convey the idea that in their opinion he had promised a great deal more +than he could perform. But Cyrus was as good as his word. The cable was +laid, and worked for the space of three weeks, conveying between the Old +and New World four hundred messages of all sorts, and some of them of +the greatest importance. Four years have elapsed since the fulfilment +of that promise, and now Mr. Field comes again before the public and +announces that a new Atlantic cable is going to be laid down, which +is not only going to work, but is to be a permanent success; and this +promise will likewise be fulfilled. You may shrug your shoulders, my +friend, and look incredulous, but I assure you the grand idea will be +realized, and speedily. I have been heretofore as incredulous as any +one; but having examined the evidence in its favor, I am fully convinced +not only of the feasibility of laying a cable, and of the certainty +of its practical operation when laid, but of its complete +indestructibility. If you will accompany me through the following +pages, my doubting friend, I will convince you of the correctness of my +conclusions. + +When the fact of the successful laying of the old Atlantic cable was +known, there was no class of people in this country more surprised at +the result than the electricians, engineers, and practical telegraphers. +Meeting a friend of mine, an electrician, and who, by the way, is also +a great mathematician, and, like all of his class, inclined to be very +exact in his statements, I exclaimed, in all the warmth and exuberance +of feeling engendered by so great an event,-- + +"Isn't it glorious, this idea of being able to send our lightning across +the ocean, and to talk with London and Paris as readily as we do with +New York and New Orleans?" + +"It is, indeed," responded my friend, with equal enthusiasm; "my hopes +are more than realized by this wonderful achievement." + +"Hopes realized!" exclaimed I. "Why, I didn't consider there was one +chance in a thousand of success,--did you?" + +"Why, yes," replied my exact mathematical friend; "I didn't think the +chances so much against the success of the enterprise as that. From the +deductions which I drew from a very careful examination of all the facts +I could obtain, I concluded that the chances of absolute failure were +about ninety-seven and a half per cent.!" + +For many of the facts contained in this article I am indebted to the +very clear and able address delivered by Mr. Cyrus W. Field before the +American Geographical and Statistical Society, at Clinton Hall, New +York, in May last, upon the prospects of the Atlantic telegraph. + +At the start, of course, every one was very ignorant of the work to be +done in establishing a telegraph across the ocean. Submarine telegraphy +was in its infancy, and aerial telegraphy had scarcely outgrown its +swaddling-clothes. We had to grope our way in the dark. It was only by +repeated experiments and repeated failures that we were able to find out +all the conditions of success. + +The Atlantic telegraph, it is said by some, was a failure. Well, if it +were so, replies Mr. Field, I should say (as is said of many a man, that +he did more by his death than by his life) that even in its failure it +has been of immense benefit to the science of the world, for it has been +the great experimenting cable. No electrician ever had so long a line to +work upon before; and hence the science of submarine telegraphy never +made such rapid progress as after that great experiment. In fact, all +cables that have since been laid, where the managers availed themselves +of the knowledge and experience obtained by the Atlantic cable, have +been perfectly successful. All these triumphs over the sea are greatly +indebted to the bold attempt to cross the Atlantic made four years ago. + +The first Atlantic cable, therefore, has accomplished a great work in +deep-sea telegraphy, a branch of the art but little known before. In one +sense it was a failure. In another it was a brilliant success. Despite +every disadvantage, it was laid across the ocean; it was stretched from +shore to shore; and for three weeks it continued to operate,--a time +long enough to settle forever the scientific question whether it was +possible to communicate between two continents so far apart. This was +the work of the first Atlantic telegraph; and if it lies silent at the +bottom of the ocean till the destruction of the globe, it has done +enough for the science of the world and the benefit of mankind to +entitle it to be held in honored and blessed memory. + +Now, as to the prospect of success in another attempt to lay a telegraph +across the ocean. The most erroneous opinions prevail as to the +difficulties of laying submarine telegraphs in general, and securing +them against injury. It is commonly supposed that the number of failures +is much greater than of successes; whereas the fact is, that the later +attempts, where made with proper care, have been almost uniformly +successful. In proof of this I will refer to the printed "List of all +the Submarine Telegraph-Cables manufactured and laid down by Messrs. +Glass, Elliot, & Co., of London," from which it appears that within the +space of eight years, from 1854 to 1862, they have manufactured and laid +down twenty-five different cables, among which are included three of +the longest lines connecting England with the Continent,--namely, from +England to Holland, 140 miles, to Hanover, 280 miles, and to Denmark, +368 miles,--and the principal lines in the Mediterranean,--as from Italy +to Corsica and thence to Toulon, from Malta to Sicily, and from Corfu to +Otranto, and besides these, the two chief of all, that from France to +Algiers, 520 miles, laid in 1860, and the other, laid only last year, +from Malta to Alexandria, 1,535 miles! All together the lines laid by +these manufacturers comprise a total of 3,739 miles; and though some +have been lying at the bottom of the sea and working for eight years, +each one of them is at this hour in as perfect condition as on the day +it was laid down, with the exception of the two short lines laid in +shallow water along the shore between Liverpool and Holyhead, 25 miles, +and from Prince Edward's Island to New Brunswick, 11 miles; the latter +of which was broken by a ship's anchor, and the former by the anchor +of the Royal Charter during the gale in which she was wrecked, both of +which can be easily repaired. + +Where failures have occurred in submarine telegraphs, the causes are now +well understood and easily to be avoided. Thus with the first Atlantic +cable, its defects have all been carefully investigated by scientific +men, and may be easily guarded against. When this cable was in process +of manufacture in the factory of Messrs. Glass, Elliot, & Co., in +Greenwich, near London, it was coiled in four large vats, and there +left exposed, day after day, to the heat of a summer sun, which was +intensified by the tarred coating of the cable to one hundred and twenty +degrees. This went on, day after day, with the knowledge of the engineer +and electrician of the company, although the directors had given +explicit orders that sheds should be erected over the vats to prevent +the possibility of such an occurrence. As might have been foreseen, the +gutta-percha was melted, so that the conductor which it was desired to +insulate was so twisted by the coils that it was left quite bare in +numberless places, thus weakening, and eventually, when the cable +was submerged, destroying the insulation. The injury was partially +discovered before the cable was taken out of the factory at Greenwich, +and a length of about thirty miles was cut out and condemned. This, +however, did not wholly remedy the difficulty, for the defective +insulation became frequently and painfully apparent while the cable was +being submerged. Still further evidence of its imperfect condition was +afforded when it came to be cut up for charms and trinkets. + +The first cable was, to a great extent, an experiment,--a leap in +the dark. Its material and construction were as good as the state of +knowledge at that time provided, and in many respects not unsuitable; +but the company could not avail itself, at that time, of the instruments +or apparatus for testing its conducting power and insulation, in the +manner since pointed out by experience. The effects of temperature, +as we have seen, were not provided for. The vast differences in the +conducting power of copper were discovered only by means of that cable, +when made. The mathematical law whereby the proportions of insulation to +conduction are determined had not been fully investigated; and it was +even argued by some of the pretended electricians in the employ of the +company, that, the smaller the conductor, the more rapidly the current +could pass through it. No mode of protecting the external sheath from +oxidation had then been discovered; and the kind of machinery necessary +for submerging cables in deep water could only be theoretically assumed. + +Looking back to that period, and granting that there was too much haste +in the preparations, and that other mistakes were committed which could +now be foreseen and avoided, it is not too much to say, that, if that +cable could be laid and worked, as was done, after one failure in 1857, +and the consequent uncoiling and storage of it in an exposed situation, +and after three attempts in 1858, under the most fearful circumstances +as to weather, it would be an easy task to lay a cable constructed and +submerged by the light of present experience. + +[Illustration: The Cable laid in 1858.] + +[Illustration: The proposed New Cable.] + +The above cuts, representing sections of the cable laid in 1858 and the +proposed new cable, will serve to show the difference between the two, +and the immense superiority of the latter over the former. In the old +Atlantic cable the copper conducting-wire weighed but ninety-three +pounds to the mile, while in the new cable it weighs five hundred and +ten pounds to the mile, _or more than five times as much_. Now the size, +or diameter, of a telegraphic conductor is just as important an item, in +determining the strength of current which can be maintained upon it with +a given amount of battery-force, as the length of the conductor. To +produce the effects by which the messages are expressed at the end of +a telegraphic wire or cable, it is necessary that the electric current +should have a certain intensity or strength. Now the intensity of the +current transmitted by a given voltaic battery along a given line of +wire will decrease, other things being the same, in the same proportion +as the length of the wire increases. Thus, if the wire be continued for +ten miles, the current will have twice the intensity which it would +have, if the wire had been extended to a distance of twenty miles. It is +evident, therefore, that the wire may be continued to such a length that +the current will no longer have sufficient intensity to produce at the +station to which the despatch is transmitted those effects by which the +language of the despatch is signified. _But the intensity of the current +transmitted by a given voltaic battery upon a wire of given length will +be increased in the same proportion as the area of the section of the +wire is augmented_. Thus, if the diameter of the wire be doubled, the +area of its section being increased in a fourfold proportion, the +intensity of the current transmitted along the wire will be increased in +the same ratio. The intensity of the current may also be augmented by +increasing the number of pairs of the generating plates or cylinders +composing the galvanic battery. + +All electrical terms are arbitrary, and necessarily unintelligible +to the general reader. I shall, therefore, use them as sparingly as +possible, and endeavor to make myself clearly understood by explaining +those which I do use. + +All telegraphic conductors offer a certain resistance to the passage of +an electric current, and the amount of this resistance is proportional +to the length of the conductor, and inversely to its size. In order to +overcome this resistance, it is necessary to increase the number of +the cells in the battery, and thus obtain a fluid of greater force or +intensity. + +On aerial telegraph-lines this increase in the intensity of the battery +occasions no particular inconvenience, other than by tending to the more +rapid destruction of the small copper coils, or helices, employed; +but upon submarine lines it has the effect of increasing the static +electricity, or electricity of tension, which accumulates along the +surface of the gutta-percha covering of the conducting-wire, in the same +manner as static electricity accumulates on the surface of glass, or of +a stick of sealing-wax, by rubbing it with a piece of cloth. The use of +submarine or of subterranean conductors occasions, from the above cause, +a small retardation in the velocity of the transmitted electricity. This +retardation is not due to the length of the path which the electric +current has to traverse, since it does not take place with a conductor, +equally long, insulated in the air; but it arises from a static +reaction, caused by the passage of an intense current through a +conductor well insulated, but surrounded outside its insulating coating +by a conducting body, such as sea-water or moist ground, or even by the +metallic envelope of iron wires placed in communication with the ground. +When this conductor is presented to one of the poles of a battery, the +other pole of which communicates with the ground, it becomes charged +with static electricity, like the coating of a Leyden-jar,--electricity +which is capable of giving rise to a discharge-current, even after the +voltaic current has ceased to be transmitted. Volta showed in one of his +beautiful experiments, that, in putting one of the ends of his pile +in communication with the earth, and the other with a non-insulated +Leyden-jar, the jar was charged in an instant of time to a degree +proportional to the force of the pile. At the same time an instantaneous +current was observed in the conductor between the pile and the jar, +which had all the properties of an ordinary current. Now it is evident +that the subaqueous wire with its insulating covering may be assimilated +exactly to an immense Leyden-jar. The glass of the jar represents the +gutta-percha; the internal coating is the surface of the copper wire; +the external coating is the surrounding metallic envelope and water. To +form an idea of the capacity of this new kind of battery, we have only +to remember that the surface of the wire is equal to fourteen square +yards per mile. Bringing such a wire into communication by one of its +ends with a battery, of which the opposite pole is in contact with the +earth, whilst the other extremity of the wire is insulated, must cause +the wire to take a charge of the same character and tension as that of +the pole of the battery touched by it. + +These currents of static induction are proportional in intensity to +the force of the battery and the length of the wire, whilst an inverse +relation is true as regards the length of the conductor with the +ordinary voltaic current. + +Professor Wheatstone proved, by actual experiment, that a continuous +current may be maintained in the circuit of the long wire of an +electric cable, of which one of the ends is insulated, whilst the other +communicates with one of the poles of a battery, whose other pole is +connected with the ground. This current he considers due to the uniform +and continual dispersion of the statical electricity with which the wire +is charged along its whole length. + +It was mainly owing to the retardation from this cause that +communication through the Atlantic cable was so exceedingly slow and +difficult. + +I will now endeavor to show why the new cable will not be liable to this +difficulty, to anything like the same extent. + +I have alluded to the resistance offered by the conductor of a +telegraph-cable to the passage of an electric current, and to the +retardation of this current by static induction. The terms _retardation_ +and _resistance_ are not considered technically synonymous, but are +intended, as electrical terms, to designate two very different forces. +The resistance of a wire, as we have seen above, is proportional to its +length, and inversely to its diameter. It is overcome by increasing the +number of cells in the battery, or, in other words, by increasing the +intensity or force of the current. The retardation in a telegraphic +cable, on the contrary, is proportional to the length of the +conducting-wire and the intensity of the battery. In the former case, by +increasing the electrical force you overcome the resistance; while +in the latter, by augmenting the electrical force you increase the +retardation. + +From the foregoing law it will be seen that there are two ways of +lessening the resistance upon telegraphic conductors,--one by reducing +the length, and the other by increasing the area of the section of the +conducting-wire. Now, as already remarked, the copper conducting-wire in +the old cable weighed but ninety-three pounds to the mile, while in the +new cable it weighs five hundred and ten pounds to the mile, or more +than five times as much. If, then, by comparison, we estimate the +resistance in the old Atlantic cable to have been equal to two +thousand miles of ordinary telegraph-wire, the increased size of the +conducting-wire of the new cable reduces the resistance to one-fifth +that distance, or four hundred miles. And while it required two hundred +cells of battery to produce intensity sufficient to work over the two +thousand miles of resistance in the old cable, it will require but +one-fifth as much, or forty cells, to overcome the four hundred miles +of resistance in the new cable. The retardation which resulted from +the intense current generated by two hundred cells will be also +proportionately reduced in the comparatively small battery of forty +cells. Thus we perceive, that, while the length of the cable is, +electrically and practically, reduced to one-fifth of its former length, +the retardation of the current is also decreased in the same proportion. +Therefore, if, with the old cable, three words per minute could be +transmitted, with the new cable we shall be able to transmit five times +as many, or fifteen words per minute. This is not equal to our Morse +system on the land-lines, which will signal at the rate of thirty-five +words per minute, still less to the printing system, which can signal at +the rate of fifty words per minute; but, even at this rate, the +cable would be enabled to transmit in twenty-four hours one thousand +despatches containing an average of twenty words apiece. Mr. Field, +however, claims for the cable a speed of only twelve words per minute, +which would reduce the number of despatches of twenty words each +that could be transmitted in twenty-four hours to eight hundred and +sixty-four. We will suppose, however, that the cable transmits only five +hundred telegrams per day; this number, at ten dollars per message, +would give an income of five thousand dollars per diem, or one million +five hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars per annum. Quite a handsome +revenue on an outlay of about one million of dollars! + +The only instrument which could be used successfully in signalling +through the old cable was one of peculiar construction, called the +Marine Galvanometer. In this instrument, momentum and inertia are almost +wholly avoided by the use of a needle weighing only one and a half +grains, combined with a mirror reflecting a ray of light, which +indicates deflections with great accuracy. By this means a gradually +increasing or decreasing current is at each instant indicated at its +due strength. Thus, when this galvanometer is placed as the +receiving-instrument at the end of a long submarine cable, the movement +of the spot of light, consequent on the completion of a circuit through +the battery, cable, and earth, can be so observed as to furnish a curve +representing very accurately the arrival of an electric current. Lines +representing successive signals at various speeds can also be obtained, +and, by means of a metronome, dots and dashes can be sent with nearly +perfect regularity by an ordinary Morse key, and the corresponding +changes in the current at the receiving end of the cable accurately +observed. + +A system of arbitrary characters, similar to those used upon the Morse +telegraph, was employed, and the letter to be indicated was determined +by the number of oscillations of the needle, as well as by the length of +time during which the needle remained in one place. The operator, who +watched the reflection of the deflected needle in the mirror, held a key +in his hand communicating with a local instrument in the office, which +he pressed down or raised, according to the deflection of the needle; +and another operator deciphered the characters thus produced upon the +paper. This mode of telegraphing was, of necessity, very slow, and it +will not surprise the reader that the fastest rate of speed over the +cable did not exceed three words per minute. Still, had the old cable +continued in operation a few months longer, experience and practice +would have enabled the operator to transmit and receive with very much +greater facility. On our land-lines, operators of long experience +acquire a dexterity which enables them not only to transmit and receive +telegrams with wonderful rapidity, but to work the instruments during +storms, when those of less experience would be unable to receive a dot. +There is no occupation in which skill and experience are more necessary +to success than in that of telegraphing, and at the time the Atlantic +cable was laid no experience had been obtained upon similar lines, or +with the instruments employed. Now, however, the company can avail +itself of experienced operators from lines of nearly equal length, and +who will require no time for experimenting, but may commence operations +as soon as the two ends of the cable are landed upon the shores of +Europe and America. + +In the old cable the copper wire was covered but three times with +gutta-percha, while in the new it is covered four times with the purest +gutta-percha and four times with Chatterton's patent compound, by which +the cable is rendered absolutely impenetrable to water. The old cable +was covered with eighteen strands of small iron wire, which, as they had +no other covering, were directly exposed to the action of the water. The +new is covered with thirteen strands, each strand consisting of three +wires of the best quality, and covered with gutta-percha, to render it +indestructible in salt water. By this new construction, it has double +the strength of the old cable, at the same time that it is lighter in +the water, a very important matter in laying it across the ocean. + +The risk of loss in laying the new cable would be very much diminished +by the fact that it would be of such strength, that, even if broken, it +could be recovered, as has been done in the Mediterranean; and besides, +the principal and most expensive materials, copper and gutta-percha, +being indestructible, would have at all times a market value. + +Other routes to Europe have been proposed, and have been at times quite +popular, the most feasible of which are those _via_ Behring's Straits, +or the Aleutian Islands, and _via_ Labrador, Greenland, Iceland, and the +Faroe Isles. + +To the route _via_ Behring's Straits there are several grave objections. +The distance from New York to London by a route crossing the three +continents of America, Asia, and Europe, is about eighteen thousand +miles, or more than nine times as great as that from Newfoundland to +Ireland. Of course, the mere cost of constructing a continuous telegraph +three-quarters of the distance around the globe, and of maintaining +the hundreds of stations that would be necessary over such a length +of land-lines, would be enormous. But even that is not the chief +difficulty. A line which should traverse the whole breadth of Siberia +would encounter wellnigh insuperable obstacles in the country itself, as +it would have to pass over mountains and across deserts; while, as it +turned north to Kamtschatka, it would come into a region of frightful +cold, where winter reigns the greater part of the year. Of this whole +country a large part is not only utterly uncivilized, but uninhabited, +and portions which are occupied are held by savage and warlike tribes. + +Of the Greenland route, Doctor Hayes, the well-known Arctic traveller, +expresses himself in the most decided manner, that it is wholly +impracticable. He says it must be obvious that the ice which hugs +the Greenland coast will prevent a cable, if laid, from remaining in +continuity for any length of time. Doctor Wallich, naturalist attached +to Sir Leopold McClintock's expedition to survey the Northern route, +considers it impracticable on account of the volcanic nature of the +bottom of the sea near Iceland, and the ridges of rock and the immense +icebergs near Greenland. + +The main argument in favor of this route, in preference to the more +direct one across the Atlantic, is, that it would be impossible to work +in one continuous circuit a line so long as that from Newfoundland to +Ireland. This would seem to be answered sufficiently by the success of +the old Atlantic cable. But it is alleged that it worked slowly and with +difficulty, which is true, and hence it is thought that the distance +would be at least a very great obstacle. But we have shown, that, +practically, by the increased size of the conducting-wire, the new cable +has been reduced in length four-fifths, and will work five times as fast +as the old one. The cable extending from Malta to Alexandria is fifteen +hundred and thirty-five miles long, and the whole of this line can be +worked through without relay or repetition in a satisfactory manner, as +regards both its scientific and commercial results, and with remarkably +low battery-power. The Gutta-Percha Company, which made the core of this +cable, says that a suitably made and insulated telegraph-conductor, laid +intact between Ireland and Newfoundland, can be worked efficiently, both +in a commercial and scientific sense, and they are prepared to guaranty +the efficient and satisfactory working of a line of the length of +the Atlantic cable as manufactured by themselves, and submerged and +maintained in that state. + +It can be shown by the testimony and experience of those most eminent in +the science and practice of oceanic telegraphy, that neither length of +distance, within the limits with which the Atlantic Company has to +deal, nor depth of water, is any insuperable impediment to efficient +communication by such improved conductors of electricity as are now +proposed to be laid down. All those who are best able to form a sound +opinion, from long-continued experimental researches on this particular +point, are willing to pledge their judgment, that, on such a length of +line as that between Ireland and Newfoundland, and with such a cable and +such improved instruments as are now at command, not less than twelve +words per minute could be transmitted from shore to shore, and that this +may be done with greatly diminished battery-power as compared with that +formerly used. + +I think I have shown by facts, and not theory merely, that the Atlantic +cable can and will be successfully laid down and worked, thus supplying +the long-needed link between the three hundred thousand miles of +electric telegraph already in operation on the opposite shores of the +Atlantic. + +There are many of our people who are inclined to look coldly upon this +enterprise, from a conviction that it would give Great Britain an undue +advantage over us in case war should occur between the two countries, +and I confess to having entertained the same views; but the case is so +well put by Mr. Field, in his address before the American Geographical +Society, as, in my judgment, to relieve every apprehension upon this +point. + +The relative geographical position of the two countries cannot be +changed. It so happens, that the two points on the opposite sides of +the Atlantic nearest to each other, and which are therefore the natural +termini of an ocean telegraph, are both in British territory. Of +course, the Government which holds both ends can control the use of the +telegraph, or stop it altogether. It has the power, and the only check +upon the abuse of that power must be by a treaty, made beforehand. Shall +we refuse to aid in constructing the line, for fear that England, in +the exasperation of a war, would disregard any treaty stipulations in +reference to its use? Then we throw away our only security. For, suppose +a war to break out to-morrow, the first step of England would be to lay +a cable herself, for her own sole and exclusive benefit. Then she +would not only have the control, but would be unrestrained by any +treaty-obligations binding her to respect the neutrality of the +telegraph. We should then find this great medium of communication +between the two hemispheres, which we might have made, if not an ally, +at least a neutral, turned into a powerful antagonist. + +Would it not, therefore, be better that such a line of telegraph should +be constructed by the joint efforts of both countries, and be guarded +by treaty-stipulations, so that it might be placed, as far as possible, +under the protection of the faith of nations, and of the honor of the +civilized world? + +Mr. Field says, that, in the negotiations on this subject, Great Britain +has never shown the slightest wish to take advantage of its geographical +position to exact special privileges, or a desire to appropriate any +advantages which it was not willing to concede equally to the United +States. + +Should not the Atlantic telegraph, if laid down under the conditions +proposed by the Company, instead of being a cause of apprehension, in +case of war, be rather looked upon with favor, as tending to lessen +the risk of war between the United States and all European countries, +affording, as it would, facilities for the prompt interchange of notes +between the Government of the United States and those of the various +nations on the other side of the Atlantic, whenever any misunderstanding +should unhappily arise? + +Let us, then, throw aside all feeling of apprehension from this cause, +and be prepared to hail, with the same enthusiasm we experienced in 1858 +at the laying of the old, the completion of the new Atlantic cable. + + * * * * * + + +THE CABALISTIC WORDS. + + +[Since the following poem was written, we have had from the President +the pledge that the "cabalistic words" shall be uttered by him on the +first of January, 1863, unless the rebellion is abandoned before that +time. Thanks and honor to the President for the promise! But we shall +not look for the magical operation of the words till they are uttered +without reservation or qualification.] + + Hear, O Commander of the Faithful, hear + A legend trite to many a childish ear; + But scorn it not, nor let its teaching fail, + Although familiar as a nursery tale. + + Cassim the Covetous, whose god was gold, + Once, by strange chance, found riches manifold + Hid in a rocky cavern, where a band + Of robbers who were ravaging the land + Kept their bright spoils. Cassim had learnt the spell + By which the dazzling heaps were guarded well. + Two cabalistic words he speaks, and, lo! + The door flies open: what a golden glow! + He enters,--speaks the words of power once more, + And swift upon him clangs the ponderous door. + Croesus! what joy to eyes that know their worth! + Huge bags of gold and diamonds on the earth! + Here piles of ingots, there a glistening heap + Of coins that all their minted lustre keep. + Cassim is ravished at the wondrous sight, + And rubs his hands with ever new delight; + Absorbed in gazing, lets the hours go by, + Nor can enough indulge his gloating eye. + He chooses what he can to bear away, + And then reluctant seeks the outer day. + + The words,--what _are_ they,--those that ope the door? + He falters,--loses all so plain before;-- + Tries this word,--that,--in vain!--he cannot speak + The magic sentence;--he grows faint and weak,-- + Spurns the base gold, cause of his wild despair;-- + What if the thieves should come and find him there?-- + Hark! they are coming!--yes, they come!--they shout + The precious words;--ah, now they end his doubt!-- + Too late he hears; in vain he tries to fly; + Trembling he sinks upon his knees--to die! + + Commander of the Faithful! dark the strait + Thy people stand in, in this hour of fate; + Thick walls of gloom and doubt have shut them in; + They grope beneath the ban of one great sin. + Yet there are two short words whose potent spell + Shall burst with thunder-crash these gates of hell, + Open a vista to celestial light, + Lead us to peace through the eternal Right. + Oh, speak those words, those saving words of power, + In this most pregnant, this supremest hour,-- + Words writ in martyr blood, as all may see!-- + Commander of the Faithful, say, BE FREE! + + * * * * * + + +CONVERSATIONAL OPINIONS OF THE LEADERS OF SECESSION. + +A MONOGRAPH. + + +The causes of the present Rebellion, the personal history of its +leaders, and the incidents immediately preceding the breaking out of the +conspiracy, will ever remain objects of chief interest to the historian +of the present period of the Republic. Influenced by a desire to obtain +unimpeachable information upon these topics from unprejudiced sources, +the writer of the following article, then a student at Yale College, +availed himself of the vacation in December, 1860, and January, 1861, to +visit the National capital, and while there to improve the reasonably +ready access with which most public men are approached, whenever the +object is either to give or to receive information, for the purpose of +studying a period then promising to exceed in importance anything in the +past history of the nation. It has been suggested to the writer, that +certain interviews, such as younger men, when collegians, were then +allowed with the frank Southern leaders, and which he has occasionally +sketched in conversation, have had the seal of privacy removed by the +tide of events, and should now be described for the public, as aiding to +unmask, from unquestionable authority, the real causes and origin of +the Rebellion, and contributing something, perhaps, to sustain public +sentiment in the defence of the nation against a conspiracy which the +statements of these Southern apologists themselves prove to have been +conceived in the most reckless disregard of honor and law, and which, if +successful, will give birth to a neighboring nation actuated by the same +spirit. + +The more important interviews alluded to were with the Honorable Robert +Toombs, the Honorable R.M.T. Hunter, and the Honorable Jefferson Davis, +at that time prominent members, as is well known, of the United +States Senate, from the States respectively of Georgia, Virginia, and +Mississippi. The communications of the Senators are proved to have been +sincere by their subsequent speeches and by public events. The writer +is by no means insensible to the breach of privilege, of which, under +ordinary circumstances, notwithstanding the unfolding of events, he +would be guilty, in detailing in print private conversations; but he +believes that the public will sustain the propriety of the present +revelations, now that the persons chiefly concerned have become enemies +of the nation and of mankind. + +Not, as he may possibly be accused, with the purpose of adding a +syllable of unnecessary length to the narrative, but for the sake of +vividness in presenting the idea of the _personnel_ of the Southern +leaders, soon to be known only as historical characters, and of +scrupulous accuracy in representing their sentiments, to which, in this +case, a notice of time, place, and manner seems as necessary as that of +matter, the writer has taken not a little pains, through all the usual +means, to remember, and will endeavor to state, the conversations, +always with logical, and nearly always, he believes, with verbal +accuracy, in order that the conclusions to be drawn from them by the +reader may have the better support. + +It is well known that public men in Washington, out of business hours, +are visited without formal introduction or letters, especially upon +their reception-days, and that the privilege of a single interview +implies no distinction to the visitor. The urbanity and frankness with +which proper approaches are met, especially by the Southern leaders, are +also well known. Young men, with unprejudiced minds, upon whom public +characters are always anxious to impress the stamp of their own +principles, are perhaps received with quite as much frankness as others. + + * * * * * + +The first interview sought was with Mr. Toombs, the most daring and +ingenuous, and perhaps the most gifted in eloquence of the Southern +leaders, whose house, at that time, was a lofty building upon F Street, +only two doors from the residence of Mr. Seward. A negro servant, who, +with all the blackness of a native African, yet with thin lips and +almost the regular features of a Caucasian, appeared to the writer to be +possibly the descendant of one of the superior, princely African tribes, +showed the way to an unoccupied parlor. The room was luxuriously +furnished with evidences of wealth and taste: a magnificent pianoforte, +several well-chosen paintings, and a marble bust of some public +character standing upon a high pedestal of the same material in the +corner, attracting particular attention, and a pleasant fire in the open +grate making the December evening social. A step presently heard in the +hall, elastic, buoyant, and vigorous, was altogether too characteristic +of Mr. Toombs's portly, muscular, confident, and somewhat dashing +figure, to be mistaken for any other than his own. Mr. Toombs appeared +to be now about forty-five years of age, but carried in his whole mien +the elastic vigor, and irresistible self-reliance, frankness, decision, +and sociality of character, which mark his oratory and his public +career. His good-evening, and inquiry concerning the college named on +the card of the writer, were in a tone that at once placed his visitor +at ease. + +"Your first visit to Washington, Mr. ----?" + +"Yes, Sir. Like others, I have been attracted by the political crisis, +and the purpose of studying it from unprejudiced sources." + +"Crisis? Oh, _that's past_." + +The writer will not soon forget the tone of perfect confidence and +_nonchalance_ with which this was uttered. The time was the last week of +December, 1860. + +"You are confident, then, Sir, that fifteen States will secede?" + +"Secede? Certainly,--they _must_ secede. You Northerners,--you are from +a Northern college, I believe,"--referring to the writer's card,--"you +Northerners wish to make a new Constitution, or rather to give such an +interpretation to the old one as to make it virtually a new document. +How can society be kept together, if men will not keep their compacts? +Our fathers provided, in adopting their Constitution, for the protection +of their property. But here are four billions of the property of the +South which you propose to outlaw from the common Territories. You say +to us, by your elected President, by your House of Representatives, by +your Senate, by your Supreme Court, in short, by every means through +which one party can speak to another, that these four billions of +property, representing the toil of the head and hand of the South for +the last two hundred years, shall not be respected in the Territories as +your property is respected there. And this property, too, is property +which you tax and which you allow to be represented; but yet you will +not protect it. How can we remain? We should be happy to remain, if you +would treat us as equals; but you tax us, and will not protect us. +We will resist. D--n it,"--this and other striking expressions are +precisely Mr. Toombs's language,--"we will meet you on the border with +the bayonet. Society cannot be kept together, unless men will keep their +compacts." + +This was said without the intonation of fierceness or malignity, but +with great decision and the vigor of high spirit. + +It was taking, of course, with considerable emphasis, a side in a +famous Constitutional question, familiar to all readers of American +Congressional Debates, once supported by Mr. Calhoun, and rather +strangely, too, with that philosophical leader, confusing the absurdly +asserted State right of seceding at will with the undoubted right, +when there exists no peaceful remedy, of seceding from intolerable +oppression: an entire position which Mr. Webster especially, and +subsequent statesmen, in arguments elucidating the nature and powers of +the General Government, to say nothing of the respect due to a moral +sentiment concerning slavery, which, permeating more than a majority +of the people, has the force, when properly expressed, wherever the +Constitution has jurisdiction, of supreme law, are thought by most men, +once and forever, to have satisfactorily answered. It was a complaint, +certainly, which the South had had ever since the Constitution was +formed, and which could with no plausibility be brought forward as a +justification of war, while there existed a Constitutional tribunal for +adjusting difficulties of Constitutional interpretation. Yet, as it +was almost universally asserted, of course, by the Northern partisan +presses, and by Northern Congressmen, that the Rebellion was utterly +causeless, and as the writer was therefore exceedingly anxious to +obtain, concerning their grievances, the latest opinions of the Southern +leaders, as stated by themselves, he ventured to propose, in a pause of +Mr. Toombs's somewhat rapid rhetoric, a question which, at that moment, +seemed of central importance to the candid philosophical inquirer into +the moving forces of the times:-- + +"Are we, then, Sir, to consider Mr. Calhoun's old complaint--the +non-recognition of slave-property under the Federal Constitution--as +constituting now the _chief grievance_ of the South?" + +"Undoubtedly," was Mr. Toombs's instant reply, "_it all turns on that. +What you tax you must protect_." + +This is the very strongest argument of the Southern side. But the +alleged slave-property is protected, though only under municipal law, by +the Constitution. To protect it elsewhere is against its whole spirit, +and, in the present state of public sentiment, against its very letter. +Originally, as is well known, it was not proposed to protect at all, +_under the General Government_, property so monstrous, except as it +became necessary as a compromise, in order to secure a union. But the +provision of the Constitution that the slave-trade should be abolished, +the absolute power given to Congress to make all laws for the +Territories, the spirit of the preamble, the principles of the +Declaration, indeed, the whole history of the origin and adoption of the +fundamental law, prove that its principle and its expectation were, if +not absolutely to place slavery in the States in process of extinction, +at least never to recognize it except indirectly and remotely +under municipal law, not even by admitting the word _slave_ to its +phraseology. + +"Even in the Northern States themselves, to say nothing of the +Territories, I am not safe with my property. I can travel through +France or England and be safe; but if I happen to lose my servant up in +_Vairmount_,"--Mr. Toombs pronounced the word with a somewhat marked +accent of derision,--"and undertake to recover him, I get jugged. +Besides, your Northern statesmen are far from being honest. Here is +Billy Seward, for instance,"--with a gesture toward his neighbor's +house,--"who says slavery is contrary to the Higher Law, and that he is +bound as a Christian to obey the Higher Law; but yet he takes an oath to +uphold the Constitution, which protects slavery. This inconsistency runs +through most of the Northern platforms. How can we live with such +men? They will not be true even to a compact which they themselves +acknowledge." + +"You would think, then, Wendell Phillips, for instance, more consistent +in his political opinions than Mr. Seward?" + +"Certainly. I can understand his position. 'Slavery,' he says, 'is +wrong. The Constitution protects slavery; therefore I will have nothing +to do with the Constitution, and cannot become a citizen.' This is +logical and consistent. I can respect such a position as that." + +Here Mr. Toombs--ejecting, as perhaps the writer ought not to relate, a +competent mass of tobacco-saliva into the blazing coal--paused somewhat +reflectively, perhaps unpleasantly revolving certain possible indirect +influences of the position he had characterized. + +"Upon which side, Sir, do you think there is usually the most +misunderstanding,--on the part of the North concerning the South? or on +the part of the South concerning the North?" + +"Oh, by all odds," he replied, instantly, "we understand you best. We +send fifty thousand travellers, more or less, North every summer to +your watering-places. Hot down in Mobile,"--his style taking somewhat +unpleasantly the intonation as well as the negligence of the +bar-room,--"can't live in Mobile in the summer. Then your papers +circulate more among us than ours among you. Our daughters are educated +at Northern boarding-schools, our sons at Northern colleges: both my +colleague and myself were educated at Northern colleges. For these +reasons, by all odds, we have a better opportunity for understanding you +than you have for understanding us." + +"In case of general secession and war," the writer ventured next to +inquire, "would there probably, in your opinion, be danger of a slave +insurrection?" + +"None at all. Certainly far less than of 'Bread or Blood' riots at the +North." + +The writer was surprised to find, notwithstanding Mr. Toombs's eulogy of +Southern opportunities, his understanding of the North so imperfect, and +still more surprised at the political and social principles involved in +the spirit of what followed. + +"Your poor population can hold ward-meetings, and can vote. But _we_ +know better how to take care of ours. They are in the fields, and +under the eye of their overseers. There can be little danger of an +insurrection under our system." + +The subject and the manner of the man, in spite of his better qualities, +were becoming painful, and the writer ventured only one more remark. + +"An ugly time, certainly, if war comes between North and South." + +"Ugly time? _Oh, no!_" + +The writer will never forget the tone of utter carelessness and +_nonchalance_ with which the last round-toned exclamation was uttered. + +"Oh, no! War is nothing. Never more than a tenth part of the adult +population of a country in the field. We have four million voters. Say +a tenth of them, or four hundred thousand men, are in the field on both +sides. A tenth of them would be killed or die of camp diseases. But +_they_ would die, _any way_. War is nothing." + +The tone perfectly proved this belief, not badinage. + +"Some property would be destroyed, towns injured, fences overturned, and +the Devil raised generally; but then all that would have a good effect. +Only yaller-covered-literature men and editors make a noise about war. +Wars are to history what storms are to the atmosphere,--purifiers. We +shall meet, as we ought, whoever invades our rights, with the bayonet. +We are the gentlemen of this land, and gentlemen always make revolutions +in history." + +This was said in the tone of an injured, but haughty man, with perfect +intellectual poise and earnestness, yet with a fervor of feeling that +brought the speaker erect in his chair. + +The significance of the last remarks, which the writer can make oath he +has preserved _verbatim_, being somewhat calculated to draw on a debate, +of course wholly unfitted to the time and place, the writer, apologizing +for having taken so much time at a formal interview, and receiving, of +course, a most courteous invitation to renew the call, found himself, +after but twenty minutes' conversation, on the street, in the lonely +December evening, with a mind full of reflections. + +The utter recklessness concerning life and property with which the +splendid intellect, under the lead of the ungovernable passions of this +man, was plunging the nation into a civil war of which no one could +foresee the end, was the thought uppermost. Certainly, the abstract +manliness of asserting rights supposed to be infringed it was in itself +impossible not to respect. But the man seemed to love war for its own +sake, as pugnacious schoolboys love sham-fights, with a sort of glee in +the smell of the smoke of battle. The judicial calmness of statesmanship +had entirely disappeared in the violence of sectional passion. Perhaps +he might be capable of ruining his country from pure love of turbulence +and power, could he but find a pretext of force sufficient to blind +first himself and then others. Yet Robert Toombs, in the Senate Chamber, +takes little children in his arms, and is one of the kindest of the +noblemen of Nature in the sphere of his unpolitical sympathies. The +reader who is familiar with Mr. Toombs's speeches will need no assurance +that he spoke frankly.[A] + +[Footnote A: Ten days later, in the Senate, with a face full of the +combined erubescence of revolutionary enthusiasm and unstatesmanlike +anger, Mr. Toombs closed a speech to the Northern Senators in the +following amazing words, (_Congressional Globe_, 1860-61, p. 271,) +which justify, it will be seen, every syllable of the report of the +conversation upon the same points:-- + +"You will not regard confederate obligations; you will not regard +constitutional obligations; you will not regard your oaths. What am I to +do? Am I a freeman? Is my State, a free State, to lie down and submit +because political fossils raise the cry of 'The Glorious Union'? Too +long already have we listened to this delusive song. We are freemen. We +have rights: I have stated them. We have wrongs: I have recounted them. +I have demonstrated that the party now coming into power has declared +us outlaws, and is determined to exclude four thousand millions of our +property from the common territories,--that it has declared us under the +ban of the empire and out of the protection of the laws of the United +States, everywhere. They have refused to protect us from invasion and +insurrection by the Federal power, and the Constitution denies to us +in the Union the right either to raise fleets or armies for our own +defence. All these charges I have proven by the record, and I put +them before the civilized world, and demand the judgment of to-day, of +to-morrow, of distant ages, and of Heaven itself, upon these causes. I +am content, whatever it be, to peril all in so noble, so holy a cause. +We have appealed time and time again for these constitutional rights. +You have refused them. We appeal again. Restore us these rights as we +had them, as your court adjudges them to be, just as all our people have +said they are, redress these flagrant wrongs, seen of all men, and it +will restore fraternity and peace and unity to all of us. Refuse them, +and what then? We shall then ask you to 'let us depart in peace.' Refuse +that, and you present us war. We accept it; and inscribing upon our +banners the glorious words, 'Liberty and Equality,' we will trust to +the blood of the brave and the God of battles for security and +tranquillity." + +Sincere, but undoubtedly mistaken, Mr. Toombs! To this philippic, let +the words of another Southern, but not sectional Senator, reply, and +that from a golden age:-- + +"But if, unhappily, we should be involved in war, in civil war, between +the two parts of this Confederacy, in which the effort upon the one +side should be to restrain the introduction of slavery into the new +territories, and upon the other side to force its introduction there, +what a spectacle should we present to the astonishment of mankind, in an +effort, not to propagate right, but--I must say it, though I trust it +will be understood to be said with no design to excite feeling--a war to +propagate wrong in the territories thus acquired from Mexico. It would +be a war in which we should have no sympathies, no good wishes, in which +all mankind would be against us; for, from the commencement of the +Revolution down to the present time, we have constantly reproached +our British ancestors for the introduction of slavery into this +country."--HENRY CLAY, _Congressional Globe_, Part II., Vol. 22, p. +117.] + +Sick at heart, as the future of the nation stood to his dim vision +through the present, the writer found his way to his hotel. At this +time the North was silent, apparently apathetic, unbelieving, almost +criminally allowed to be undeceived by its presses and by public men who +had means of information, while this volcano continued to prepare itself +thus defiantly beneath the very feet of a President sworn to support the +laws! + + * * * * * + +The formal interview with the Honorable R.M.T. Hunter was sought in +company with two other students of New-England colleges. We had hoped to +meet Mr. Mason at the same apartments, but were disappointed. The great +contrast of personal character between Mr. Hunter and Mr. Toombs made +the concurrence of the former in the chief views presented by the +latter the more significant. The careful habits of thought, the +unostentatiousness, and the practical common sense for which the +Virginian farmer is esteemed, and which had made his name a prominent +one for President of a Central Confederacy, in case of the separate +secession of the Border States, were curiously manifested both in +his apartments and his manner. The chamber was apparently at a +boarding-house, but very plainly furnished with red cotton serge +curtains and common hair-cloth chairs and sofa. The Senator's manner of +speech was slow, considerate,--indeed, sometimes approaching awkwardness +in its plain, farmer-like simplicity. One of the first questions was the +central one, concerning the chief grievance of the South, which had been +presented to Mr. Toombs. + +"Yes," was Mr. Hunter's reply, somewhat less promptly given, "it may be +said to come chiefly from that,--the non-recognition of our property +under the Constitution. We wish our property recognized, as we think the +Constitution provides. We should like to remain with the North." + +He spoke without a particle of expressed passion or ardor, though by +no means incapable, when aroused, as those who have seen his plethoric +countenance and figure can testify, of both. + +"We are mutually helpful to each other. _We want to use your navy and +your factories. You want our cotton. The North to manufacture, and the +South to produce, would make the strongest nation_. But, if we separate, +we shall try to do more in Virginia than we do now. We shall make mills +on our streams." + +His language was chiefly Saxon monosyllables. + +"The climate is not as severe, the nights are not as long with us as +with you. I think we can do well at manufacturing in Virginia. The +Chesapeake Bay and our rivers should aid commerce. As for the slaves, +I think there is little danger of any trouble. There may be some," he +said, with a frankness that surprised us slightly, but in the same +moderate, honest way, his hands clasped upon his breast, and the +extended feet rubbing together slowly, "in the Cotton States, where they +are very thick together; but I think that there is very little danger in +Virginia. The way they take to rise in never shows much skill. The last +time they rose in our State, I think the attempt was brought on by some +sign in an eclipse of the moon." + +Nearly all that passed of political interest is contained in the +foregoing sentences, except one honest reply to a question concerning +his opinion of the probability of the North's attempting coercion. + +"If only three States go out, they may coerce," said Mr. Hunter; "but if +fifteen go, I guess they won't try." + +At the present period of the Rebellion, this indication of the +anticipations of its leaders in engaging in it must be of interest. + +It must be understood that the writer and his companions presented +themselves simply as students, with no fixed exclusive predilections for +either of the public parties in politics,--which, in the writer's case +at least, was certainly a statement wholly true,--and that this evident +freedom from political bias secured perhaps an unusual share of the +confidence of the Southern Senators. It will be remembered, also, that +in every conversation, however startling the revelation of criminal +purpose or absurd motive, the manner of these Senators was always +totally devoid of any approach to that vulgar intellectual levity which +too often, in treating of public affairs, painfully characterizes +the fifth-rate men whom the North sometimes chooses to make its +representatives. The manner of the Southern leaders was to us a +sufficient proof of their sincerity. + + * * * * * + +At the house of the Honorable Jefferson Davis, now in the world's +gaze President of the then nascent Confederacy, the writer, in the +intelligent and genial company of the graduate of Harvard and the +student of Amherst before mentioned, called formally, on the evening +of the New Year's reception-day. A representative from one of the +Southwestern States was present, but we were soon admitted to the front +of the open blazing grate of the reception-parlor. We had before seen +Mr. Davis busy in the Senate. + +The urbanity, the intellectual energy, and the intensely shrewd +watchfulness and ambition, combined with a covertly expressed, but +powerful native instinct for strategy and command, which have made Mr. +Davis a public leader, were evident at the first glance. The Senator +seemed compact of ambition, will, intellect, activity, and shrewdness. +A high and broad, but square forehead; the aquiline nose; the square, +fighting chin; the thin, compressed, but flexible lips; the almost +haggardly sunken cheek; the piercing, not wholly uncovered eye; the +dark, somewhat thinning hair; the clear, slightly browned, nervous +complexion, all well given in the best current photographs, were united +to a figure slightly bent in the shoulders, of more respiratory than +digestive breadth, in outlines almost equally balancing ruggedness and +grace, of compactness wrought by the pressure of perhaps few more than +fifty summers, not above medium height, but composed throughout of silk +and steel. A certain similarity between the decorations of the parlor +and the character of the owner, perhaps more fanciful than real, at once +attracted attention. Everything was simple, graceful, and rich, without +being tropically luxuriant; the paintings appeared to be often of airy, +winged, or white-robed figures, that suggested a reflective and not +unimaginative mind in the one who had chosen them. This was the leader +whom Mr. Calhoun's fervent political metaphysics and his own ambition +for place and power had misled. His conversation was remarkable in +manner for perfect unostentatiousness, clearness, and self-control, and +in matter for breadth and minuteness of political information. In the +whole conversation, he never uttered a broken or awkwardly constructed +sentence, nor wavered, while stating facts, by a single intonation. This +considerable intellectual energy, combined with courtesy, was his +chief fascination. Yet, underneath all lay an atmosphere of covert +haughtiness, and, at times, even of audacious remorselessness, which, +under stimulative circumstances, were to be feared. Undoubtedly, passion +and ambition were natively stronger in the countenance than reason, +conscience, and general sympathy,--an observation best felt to be true +when the face was compared in imagination with the faces of some of the +world's chief benefactors; but culture, native urbanity, and a powerful +reflective tendency had evidently so wrought, that, though conscience +might be imperilled frequently by great adroitness in the casuistry of +self-excuse, justice could not be consciously opposed for any length of +time without powerful silent reaction. The quantity of being, however, +though superior, was not of so high a measure as the quality, and the +principal deficiencies, though perhaps almost the sole ones, were +plainly moral. In his presence, no man could deny to him something of +that dignity, of a kind superior to that of intellect and will, which +must be possessed by every leader as a basis of confidence. But mournful +severe truth would testify that there was yet, at times, palpably +something of the treacherous serpent in the eye, and it could not +readily be told where it would strike. + +In reply to a reference to a somewhat celebrated speech by Senator +Benjamin of Louisiana, which we had heard the day previous, he said that +we might consider it, as a whole, a very fair statement both of the +arguments and the purposes of the South. Perhaps a speech of more +horrible doctrine, upheld by equal argumentative and rhetorical power, +has never been heard in the American Senate. In reply, also, to the one +central question concerning the chief grievance of the South, he gave in +substance the same answer, uttered perhaps with more logical calmness, +that had been given by Mr. Hunter and Mr. Toombs, that it was +substantially covered by Mr. Calhoun's old complaint, the +non-recognition of slave-property under the Federal Constitution. Of +course we were as yet too well established in the belief that slavery in +the United States is upheld by the Constitution only very remotely and +indirectly, under local or municipal law, to desire, even by questions, +to draw on any debate. + +In reply to a question by the gentleman from Harvard, he spoke of a +Central Confederacy as altogether improbable, and thought, if Georgia +seceded, as the telegrams for the last fortnight had indicated she +would, Maryland would be sure to go. "I think the commercial and +political interests of Maryland," he remarked, in his calm and simple, +but distinct and watchful manner, manifesting, too, at the same time, +a natural command of dignified, antithetical sentences, "would be +promoted, perhaps can be only preserved, by secession. Her territory +extends on both sides of a great inland water communication, and is at +the natural Atlantic outlet, by railway, of the Valley of the West. +Baltimore in the Union is sure to be inferior to Philadelphia and New +York: Baltimore out of the Union is sure to become a great commercial +city. In every way, whether we regard her own people or their usefulness +to other States, I think the interests of Maryland would be promoted by +secession." + +"But would not Maryland lose many more slaves, as the border member of a +foreign confederacy, than she does now in the Union?" + +The reply to this question we looked for with the greatest interest, +since no foreign nation, such as the North would be, in case of +the success of the attempted Confederacy, ever thinks of giving up +fugitives, and since the policy of the South upon this point, in case +she should succeed, would determine the possibility or impossibility of +peace between the two portions of the Continent. + +Mr. Davis's reply was in the following words, uttered in a tone of equal +shrewdness, calmness, and decision:-- + +"I think, for all Maryland would lose in that way she would be more than +repaid by reprisals. While we are one nation and you steal our property, +we have little redress; _but when we become two nations, we shall say, +Two can play at this game_." + +We breathed more freely after so frank an utterance. The great +importance of this reply, coming from the even then proposed political +chief of the Confederacy, as indicating the impossibility of peace, even +in case of the recognition of the South, so long as it should continue, +as it has begun, to make Slavery the chief corner-stone of the State, +will be at once perceived. + +"But," the writer ventured to inquire, "what will become of the Federal +District, since its inhabitants have no 'State right of secession'?" + +"Have you ever studied law?" he asked. + +The gentleman from Amherst confessed our ignorance of any point covering +the case. + +"There is a rule in law," continued Mr. Davis, "that, when property is +granted by one party to another for use for any specified purpose, and +ceases to be used for that purpose, it reverts by law to the donor. +Now the territory constituting at present the District of Columbia was +granted, as you well know, by Maryland to the United States for use as +the seat of the Federal capital. When it ceases to be used for that +purpose, it, with all its public fixtures, will revert by law to +Maryland. But," and his eye brightened to the hue of cold steel in a +way the writer will never forget, as he uttered, in a tone perfectly +self-poised, undaunted, and slightly defiant, the words, "_that is a +point which may be settled by force rather than by reason_." + +This was January 1, 1861, only eleven days after South Carolina had +passed her Act of Secession, and shows that even then, notwithstanding +the professed desire of the South to depart in peace, the attack not +only upon the national principles of union, but upon the national +property as well, was projected. Mr. Davis, loaded with the benefits of +his country, yet occupied a seat in the Senate Chamber, under the most +solemn oath to uphold its Constitution, which, even if his grievances +had been well founded, afforded Constitutional and peaceful remedies +that he had never attempted to use. Presenting regards, very formal +indeed, sick at heart, indignant, and anxious, we left the house of the +traitor. + +The historical conclusions to be drawn from the above slight sketches +are important in several respects. Mr. Davis, Mr. Toombs, and Mr. Hunter +are among the strongest leaders of the Rebellion. Representing the +Northern, Southeastern, and Southwestern populations of the disaffected +regions, their testimony had a wide application, and was perhaps as +characteristic and pointed in these brief conversations, occurring just +upon the eve of the bursting of the storm, as we should have heard in a +hundred interviews. That they spoke frankly was not only evidenced to +us by their entire manner, but, as it is not unimportant to repeat, +has been proved by subsequent events. The conversations, therefore, +indicate,-- + +1. That the grand, fundamental, legal ground for the Rebellion was a +view of Constitutional rights by which property in human beings claimed +equal protection under the General Government with the products of Free +Labor, and to be admitted, therefore, at will, to all places under the +jurisdiction of the Federal power, and not simply to be protected under +local or municipal law,--rights which the South proposed to vindicate, +constitutionally, by Secession, or, in other words, by the domination of +State over National sovereignty: an entire view of the true intent of +the Federal compacts and powers, which, in the great debates between Mr. +Webster and Mr. Calhoun, to say nothing of elucidations by previous and +subsequent jurists and statesmen, has been again and again abundantly +demonstrated to be absurd. + +2. That the immediate, comprehensive pretext for the Rebellion was the +success of a legal majority having in its platform of principles the +doctrine of the non-extension of involuntary human bondage in the +territories over which the Constitution had given to the whole people +absolute control, a doctrine which the mass of the Southern populations +were educated to believe not only deadly to their local privileges, but +distinctly unconstitutional. + +3. That the leaders of the Rebellion frankly admitted, that, excepting +this one point of Constitutional grievance, the interests of the +populations which they represented would be better subserved in the +Union than out of it. + +4. That the leaders of the Rebellion appear not to have anticipated +coercion; but yet, from the earliest days of Secession, contemplated +the spoliation of the Southern National property, and particularly the +seizure of the Federal capital. + +5. That, even should the independence of the South be acknowledged, +peace could not result so long as Slavery should continue: their avowed +system of reprisals for the certain escape of slaves precluding all +force in any but piratical international law. + +6. That the spirit of the Rebellion is the haughty, grasping, and, +except within its own circle, the remorseless spirit universally +characteristic of oligarchies, before the success of whose principles +upon this continent the liberties of the whites could be no safer than +those of the blacks. + +"We are the gentlemen of this land," said the Georgian senator, "and +gentlemen always make revolutions in history." And just previously he +had said, with haughty significance, "_Your_ poor population can hold +ward-meetings, and can vote. But _we_ know better how to take care of +ours. They are in the fields, and under the eye of their overseers." + +In these two brief remarks, taken singly, or, especially, in +juxtaposition, from so representative a source, and so characteristic +of oligarchical opinions everywhere, appears condensed the suggestive +political warning of these times, indeed of all times, and which a +people regardful of civil and religious liberty can never be slow to +heed. + +Let the pride of race and the aristocratic tendencies which underlie the +resistance of the South prevail, and we shall see a new America. The +land of the fathers and of the present will become strange to us. In +place of a thriving population, each member socially independent, +self-respecting, contented, and industrious, contributing, therefore, +to the general welfare, and preserving to posterity and to mankind a +national future of inconceivable power and grandeur, we shall see a +class of unemployed rich and unemployed poor, the former a handful, the +latter a host, in perpetual feud. The asylum of nations, ungratefully +rejecting the principles of equality, to which it has owed a career +of prosperity unexampled in history, will find in arrested commerce, +depressed credit, checked manufactures, an effeminate and selfish, +however brilliant, governing class, and an impoverished and imbruted +industrial population, the consequences of turning back upon its path of +advance. The condition of the most unfortunate aristocracies of the Old +World will become ours. + +But the venerated principles partially promulgated in our golden age +forbid such unhappy auspices. Undoubtedly gentlemen make revolutions in +history; but since all may be Christians, may not all men be gentlemen? +At least, have not all men, everywhere, the sacred and comprehensive +right of equal freedom of endeavor to occupy their highest capacities? +_Does not the Creator, who makes nothing in vain, wherever He implants a +power, imply a command to exercise that power according to the highest +aspiration, and is not responsibility eternally exacted, wherever +power and command coexist?_ By that fearful sanction, may not all men, +everywhere, become the best they can become? What that may be, is not +free, equal, and perpetual experiment, judged by conscience in the +individual and by philanthropy in his brother, and not by arrogance +or cupidity in his oppressor, to decide? To secure the wisdom and +perpetuity of this experiment, are not governments instituted? Is not +a monopoly of opportunity by any single class, by all historical and +theoretical proof, not only unjust to the excluded, but crippling +and suicidal to the State? Nay, is not the slightest infringement of +regulated social and political justice, liberty, and humanity, in +the person of black or of white, that makes the greatest potential +development of the highest in human nature impossible or difficult, to +be resisted, as a violation of the peace of the soul, endless treachery +to mankind, an affront to Heaven? Would not the very soil of America, +in which Liberty is said to inhere, cry out and rise against any but an +affirmative answer to such questions? + +A near future will decide. + + * * * * * + + +THE HOUR AND THE MAN. + + +The Twenty-Second of September, 1862, bids fair to become as remarkable +a date in American history as the Fourth of July, 1776; for on that day +the President of the United States, availing himself of the full powers +of his position, declared this country free from that slaveholding +oligarchy which had so long governed it in peace, and the influence of +which was so potently felt for more than a year after it had broken up +the Union, and made war upon the Federal Government. Be the event what +it may,--and the incidents of the war have taught us not to be too +sanguine as to the results of any given movement,--President Lincoln has +placed the American nation in a proper attitude with respect to that +institution the existence of which had so long been the scandal and +the disgrace of a people claiming to be the freest on earth, but whose +powers had been systematically used and abused for the maintenance and +the extension of slave-labor. + +It was our misfortune, and in some sense it was also our fault, that we +were bound to uphold the worst system of slavery that ever was known +among men; for we must judge of every wrong that is perpetrated by the +circumstances that are connected with it, and our oppression of the +African race was peculiarly offensive, inasmuch as it was a proceeding +in flagrant violation of our constantly avowed principles, was continued +in face of the opinions of the founders of the nation, was frankly +upheld on the unmanly ground that the intellectual weakness of the +slaves rendered it safe to oppress them, and was not excused by that +general ignorance of right which has so often been brought forward in +palliation of wrong,--as slavery had come under the ban of Christendom +years before Americans could be found boldly bad enough to claim for it +a divine origin, and to avow that it was a proper, and even the best, +foundation for civil society. Our offence was of the rankest, and its +peculiar character rendered us odious in the eyes of the nations, who +would not admit the force of our plea as to the great difficulties that +lay in the way of the removal of the evil, as they had seen it condemned +by most communities, and abolished by some of their number. + +The very circumstance upon which Americans have relied for the +justification of their form of slavery, namely, that it was confined to +one race, and that race widely separated from all other races by +the existence of peculiar characteristics, has been regarded as an +aggravation of their misconduct by all humane and disinterested persons. +The Greek system of slavery, which was based on the idea that Greeks +were noblemen of Heaven's own creating, and that they therefore were +justified in treating all other men as inferiors, and making the same +use of them as they made of horses; the Roman system, which was based on +the will of society, and therefore made no exceptions on the score of +color, but saw in all strangers only creatures of chase; the Mussulman +system, brought out so strongly by the action of the States of Barbary, +and which was colored by the character of the long quarrel between +Mahometans and Christians, and under which Northern Africa was filled +with myriads of slaves from Southern Europe, among whom were men of +the highest intellect,--Cervantes, for example;--all these systems +of servitude, and others that might be adduced, were respectable in +comparison with our system, which proceeded upon the blasphemous +assumption that God had created and set apart one race that should +forever dwell in the house of bondage. If, in some respects, our system +has been more humane than that of other peoples in other times, the fact +is owing to that general improvement which has taken place the earth +over during the present century. The world has gone forward, and even +American slaveholders have been compelled to go with it, whether they +would or not. + +It was a distinctive feature of slavery, as here known, that it tended +to debauch the mind of Christendom. So long as all men were liable to be +enslaved, and even Shakspeare and Milton were in some danger of sharing +the fate of Cervantes,--and the Barbary corsairs did actually carry +off men from the British Islands in the times of Milton and +Shakspeare,--there could not fail to grow up a general hostility to +slavery, and the institution was booked for destruction. But when +slavery came to be considered as the appropriate condition of one race, +and the members of that race so highly qualified to engage in the +production of cotton and sugar, tobacco and rice, the danger was, not +only that slavery would once more come into favor, but that the African +slave-trade would be replaced in the list of legitimate commercial +pursuits, and become more extensive than it was in those days when it +was defended by bishops and kings' sons in the British House of Lords. +That this is not an unfounded opinion will be admitted by those who +recollect that the London "Times," that representative of the average +English mind, but recently published articles that could mean nothing +less than a desire to revive the old system of slavery, with all that +should be necessary to maintain it in force; that Mr. Carlyle is an +advocate of the oppression of negroes; and that the French Government +at one time seemed disposed to have resort to a course that must, if +adopted, have converted Africa into a storehouse of slaves. + +Our slaveholders were not blind to this altered state of the European +mind, of which they availed themselves, and of which, in a certain +sense, they had the best of all rights to avail themselves, for it was +largely their own work. At the same time that England abolished slavery +in her dominions, the chief Nullifiers, who were the fathers of the +Secession Rebellion, assumed the position that negro slavery was good in +itself, and that it was the duty of white men to uphold and to extend +it. This was done by Governor McDuffie, of South Carolina, in 1834, +and it was warmly approved by many Southern men, as well out of South +Carolina as in that most fanatical of States, but generally condemned by +the Democrats of that time, though now it is not uncommon to find men +in the North who accept all that the old Nullifier put forward as a new +truth eight-and-twenty years ago. Earnestly and zealously, and with no +small amount of talent, the friends of slavery labored to impose their +views upon the entire Southern mind,--and that not so much because they +loved slavery for itself as because they knew, that, if the slaveholding +interest could be placed in opposition to the Federal Union, that Union +might be destroyed. They were fanatics in their attachment to slavery, +but even their fanaticism was secondary to their hatred of that +power which, as represented by Andrew Jackson, had trampled down +Nullification, and compelled Carolina and Calhoun to retreat from cannon +and the gallows. Mr. Rhett, then Mr. Barnwell Smith, said, in the +debates in the Convention on the proposition to accept the Tariff +Compromise of 1833, that he hated the star-spangled banner; and +unquestionably he expressed the feelings of many of his contemporaries, +who deemed submission prudent, but who were consoled by the reflection +that slavery would afford them a far better means for breaking up the +Union than it was possible to get through the existence of any tariff, +no matter how protective it might be. All the great leaders of the first +Secession school had passed away from the earth, when Rhett "still +lived" to see the flag he hated pulled down before the fire that was +poured upon Fort Sumter from Carolina's batteries worked by the hands +of Carolinians. Calhoun, Hamilton, McDuffie, Hayne, Trumbull, Cooper, +Harper, Preston, and others, men of the first intellectual rank in +America, had departed; but Rhett survived to see what they had labored +to effect, and what they would have effected, had they not encountered +one of those iron spirits to whom is sometimes intrusted the government +of nations, and who are of more value to nations than gold and fleets +and armies. All that we have lately seen done, and more, would have been +done thirty years since, had any other man than Andrew Jackson been at +that time President of the United States. There was much cant in those +days about "the one-man power," because President Jackson saw fit to +make use of the Constitutional qualified veto-power to express his +opposition to certain measures adopted by Congress; but the best +exhibition of "the one-man power" that the country ever saw, then or +before or since, was when the same magistrate crushed Nullification, +maintained the Union, and secured the nation's peace for more than a +quarter of a century. We never knew what a great man Jackson was, until +the country was cursed by Buchanan's occupation of the same chair that +Jackson had filled,--a chair that he was unworthy to dust,--and by his +cowardice and treachery which made civil war inevitable. One man, at the +close of 1860, could have done more than has yet been accomplished by +the million of men who have been called to arms because no such man was +then in the nation's service. The "one hour of Dundee" was not more +wanting to the Stuarts than the one month of Jackson was wanting to us +but two years ago. + +The powerful teaching of the Nullifiers was successful. The South, which +assumed to be the exclusive seat of American nationality, while the +North was declared given up to sectionalism, with no other lights on its +path than "blue lights," became the South so devoted to slavery that +it could see nothing else in the country. Old Union men of 1832 became +Secessionists, though Nullification, the milder thing of the two, had +been too much for them to endure. They not only endured the more hideous +evil, but they embraced it. Between 1832 and 1860 a change had been +wrought such as twice that time could not have accomplished at any +earlier period of human history. The old Southern ideas respecting +slavery had disappeared, and that institution had become an object of +idolatry, so that any criticisms to which it was subjected kindled the +same sort of flame that is excited in a pious community when objects of +devotion are assailed and destroyed by the hands of unbelievers. +The astonishing material prosperity that accompanied the system of +slave-labor had, no doubt, much to do with the regard that was bestowed +upon the system itself. That was the time when Cotton became King,--at +least, in the opinion of its worshippers. The Democratic party of the +North passed from that position of radicalism to which the name of +_Locofocoism_ was given, to the position of supporters of the extremest +Southern doctrines, so that for some years it appeared to exist for no +other purpose than to do garrison-duty in the Free States, the cost of +its maintenance being supplied by the Federal revenues. Abroad the same +change began to be noted, the demand for cotton prevailing over the +power of conscience. Everything worked as well for evil as it could +work, and as if Satan himself had condescended to accept the post of +stage-manager for the disturbers of America's peace. + +To take advantage of the change that had been brought about was the +purpose of the whole political population of the South. But though that +section was united in its determination to support the supremacy of +slavery, it was far from being united in its opinions as to the best +mode of accomplishing its object. There were three parties in the South +in the last days of the old Union. The first, and the largest, of these +parties answered very nearly to the Southern portion of the Democratic +party, and contained whatever of sense and force belonged to the South. +It was made up of men who were firmly resolved upon one thing, namely, +that they would ruin the Union, if they should forever lose the power to +rule it; but they had the sagacity to see that the ends which they had +in view could be more easily achieved in the Union than out of it. +They were not disunionists _per se_, but were quite ready to become +disunionists, if the Union was to be governed otherwise than in the +direct and immediate interest of slavery. Slavery was the basis of their +political system, and they knew that it could be better served by the +American Union's continued existence than by the construction of +a Southern Confederacy, provided the former should do all that +slaveholders might require it to do. + +The second Southern party, and the smallest of them all, was composed +of the minions of the Nullifiers, and of their immediate followers, men +whose especial object it was to destroy the Union, and who hated the +subservient portion of the Northern people far more bitterly than they +hated Republicans, or even Abolitionists. They would have preferred +abolition and disunion to the triumph of slavery and the preservation of +the Union. It was not that they loved slavery less, but that they hated +the Union more. Even if the country should submit to the South, the +leaders of this faction knew that they would not be the Southrons to +whom should be intrusted the powers and the business of government. Few +of them were of much account even in their own States, and generally +they could have been set down as chiefs of the opposition to everything +that was reasonable. A remarkable proof of the little hold which this +class of men had on even the most mad of the Southern States, when at +the height of their fury, was afforded by the refusal of South Carolina +to elect Mr. Rhett Governor, her Legislature conferring that post on Mr. +Pickens, a moderate man when compared with Mr. Rhett, and who, there +is reason for believing, would have prevented a resort to Secession +altogether, could he have done so without sacrificing what he held to be +his honor. + +The third Southern party consisted of men who desired the continuance +of the Union, but who wished that some "concessions" should be made, or +"compromises" effected, in order to satisfy men, one portion of whom +were resolved upon having everything, while the other portion were +resolute in their purpose to destroy everything that then existed of a +national character. This third party was mostly composed of those +timid men whose votes count for much at ordinary periods, but who in +extraordinary times are worse than worthless, being in fact incumbrances +on bolder men. They loved the Union, because they loved peace, and were +opposed to violence of all kinds; but their Unionism was much like +Bailie Macwheeble's conscience, which was described as never doing him +any harm. What they would have done, had Government been able to send a +strong force to their assistance at the beginning of the war, we cannot +undertake to say; but they have done little to aid the Federal cause in +the field, while their influence in the Federal councils has been more +prejudicial to the country than the open exertions of the Secessionists +to effect the nation's destruction. + +Of these parties, the first had every reason to believe that it could +soon regain possession of Congress, and that in 1864 it would be able to +elect its candidate to the Presidency. Hence it had no wish to dissolve +the Union; and if its leaders could have had their way, the Union would +have been spared. But the second party, making up for its deficiency in +numbers by the intensity of its zeal, and laboring untiringly, was too +much for the moderates. Hate is a stronger feeling than love of any +kind, stronger even than love of spoils; and the men who followed Rhett +and Yancey, Pryor and Spratt, hated the Union with a perfect hatred. +They got ahead of the men who followed Davis and Stephens, and the rest +of those Southern chiefs who would have been content with the complete +triumph of Southern principles in the Republic as it stood in 1860. As +they broke up the Democratic party in order to render the election +of the Republican candidate certain, so that they might found on his +election the _cri de guerre_ of a "sectional triumph" over the South, so +they "coerced" the Southern people into the adoption of a war-policy. We +have more than once heard Mr. Lincoln blamed for "precipitating matters" +in April, 1861. He should have temporized, it has been said, and so +have preserved peace; but when he called for seventy-five thousand +volunteers, he made war unavoidable. The truth is, that Mr. Lincoln did +not begin the war. It was begun by the South. His call for volunteers +was the consequence of war being made on the nation, and not the cause +of war being made either on the South or by the South. The enemy fired +upon and took Fort Sumter before the first call for volunteers was +issued; and that proceeding must be admitted to have been an act of war, +unless we are prepared to admit that there is a right of Secession. +And Fort Sumter was fired upon and taken through the influence of the +violent party at the South, who were resolved that there should be war. +They knew that it was beyond the power of the Federal Government to send +supplies to the doomed fort, and that in a few days it would pass into +the hands of the Confederates; and this they determined to prevent, +because they knew also that the mere surrender of the garrison, when +it had eaten its last rations, would not suffice to "fire the Northern +heart." They carried their point, and hence it was that war was begun +the middle of April, 1861. But for the triumph of the violent Southern +party, the contest might have been postponed, and even a peace patched +up for the time, and the inevitable struggle put off to a future day. +As it was, Government had no choice, and was compelled to fight; and it +would have been compelled to fight, had it been composed entirely of +Quakers. + +War being unavoidable, and it being clear that slavery was the cause of +it as well as its occasion, and that it would be the main support of our +enemy, it ought to have followed that our first blow should be directed +against that institution. Nothing of the kind happened. Whatever +Government may have thought on the subject, it did nothing to injure +slavery. But for this forbearance, which now appears so astonishing, we +are not disposed to blame the President. He acted as the representative +of the country, which was not then prepared to act vigorously against +the root of the evil that afflicted it. A moral blindness prevailed, +which proved most injurious to the Union cause, and from the effect of +which it may never recover. It was supposed that it was yet possible to +"conciliate" the South, and that that section could be induced to "come +back" into the Union, provided nothing should be done to hurt its +feelings or injure its interests! Looking back to the summer of 1861, it +is with difficulty that we can believe that men were then in possession +of their senses, so inconsistent was their conduct. The Rebels were at +least as sensitive on the subject of their military character as they +were on that of slavery; and yet, while we could not be sufficiently +servile on the latter subject, we acted most offensively on the former. +We asserted, in every form and variety of language, our ability to "put +them down;" and but for the circumstance that not the slightest atom of +ability marked the management of our military affairs, we should +have made our boasting good. Men who could not say enough to satisfy +themselves on the point of the right of the chivalrous Southrons to +create, breed, work, and sell slaves, were equally loud-mouthed in their +expressed purpose to "put down" the said Southrons because they had +rebelled, and rebelled only because they were slaveholders, and for the +purpose of placing slavery beyond the reach of wordy assault in the +country of which it should be the governing power. There has been much +complaint that foreigners have not understood the nature of our quarrel, +and that the general European hostility to the American national cause +is owing to their ignorance of American affairs. How that may be we +shall not stop to inquire; but it is beyond dispute that no European +community has ever displayed a more glaring ignorance of the character +of the contest here waged than was exhibited by most Americans in the +early months of that contest, and down to a recent period. The war +was treated by nearly the whole people as if slavery had no possible +connection with it, and as if all mention of slavery in matters +pertaining to the war were necessarily an impertinence, a foreign +subject lugged into a domestic discussion. Three-fourths of the people +were disposed querulously to ask why Abolitionists couldn't let slavery +alone in war-time. It was a bad thing, was Abolitionism, in time of +peace; but its badness was vastly increased when we had war upon our +hands. Half the other fourth of the citizens were disposed to agree with +the majority, but very shame kept them silent. It was only the few who +had a proper conception of the state of things, and they had little +influence with the people, and, consequently, none with Government. Had +they said much, or attempted to do anything, probably they would have +found Federal arms directed against themselves with much more of force +and effectiveness in their use than were manifested when they were +directed against the Rebels. When a Union general could announce that +he would make use of the Northern soldiers under his command to destroy +slaves who should be so audacious as to rebel against Rebels, and the +announcement was received with rapturous approval at the North, it was +enough to convince every intelligent and reflecting man that no just +idea of the struggle we were engaged in was common, and that a blind +people were following blind leaders into the ditch,--even into that +"last ditch" to which the Secessionists have so often been doomed, but +in which they so obstinately continue to refuse to find their own and +their cause's grave. + +That Government was not much ahead of the people in 1861, and through +most of the present year, respecting the position of slavery, is very +evident to all who know what it did, and what it refused to do, with +regard to that institution. With a hardiness that would have been +strongly offensive, if it had not been singularly ridiculous, Mr. Seward +told the astonished world of Europe that the fate of slavery did not +depend upon the event of our contest,--which was as much as to say that +we should not injure it, happen what might; and no one then supposed +that the Confederates would willingly strike a blow at it, either to +conciliate foreign nations or to obtain black soldiers. The words of the +Secretary of State did us harm in England, with the religious portion of +whose people it is something like an article of faith that slavery is +an addition to the list of deadly sins. They injured us, too, with the +members of the various schools of liberal politicians over all Europe; +and they furnished to our enemies abroad the argument that there really +was no difference between the North and the South on the slavery +question, and that therefore the sympathies of all generous minds +should be with the Southrons, who were the weaker party. Our cause was +irreparably damaged in Europe through the indiscretion of the Honorable +Secretary, who cannot be accused of any love for slavery, but who was +then, as he appears to be up to the present hour, ignorant of the nature +and the extent of the contest of which his country is the scene. Other +members of the Administration had sounder ideas, but their weight in it +was not equal to that of the Secretary of State. + +It is but fair to the President to say, that his conduct was such that +it was obvious that he did not favor slavery because he had any respect +for it. He pulled so hard upon the chains that bound him, that his +desire to throw them off was clear to the world; but they were too +strong, and too well fastened, to be got rid of easily. He feared that +all the Unionists of the Border States would be lost, if he should adopt +the views of the Emancipationists; and the fear was natural, though in +point of fact his course had no good effect in those States, beyond that +of conciliating a portion of the Kentuckians. North Carolina, under the +old system the most moderate of the Slave States, was as far gone in +Secession as South Carolina, and furnished far more men to the Southern +armies than her neighbor. The Virginians and Missourians who went with +us would have pursued the same course, had the President's opinions +on slavery been as radical and pronounced as those of Mr. Garrison. +Maryland was kept from wheeling into the Secession line only by the +presence on her soil, and in her vicinity, of strong Federal armies. In +Tennessee, at a later period of the war, as in North Carolina, Federal +power extended as far as Federal guns could throw Federal shot, though +Tennessee had not been renowned for her extreme attachment to slavery. +But the heavy weight on the Presidential mind came from the Free States, +in which the Pro-Slavery party was so powerful, and the nature of the +war was so little understood, that it was impossible for Government to +strike an effective blow at the source of the enemy's strength. Before +that could be done, it would be necessary that the Northern mind should +be trained to justice in the school of adversity. The position of the +President in 1861 was not unlike to that which the Prince of Orange held +in 1687. Had William made his attempt on England in 1687, the end would +have been failure as complete as that of Monmouth in 1685. It was +necessary that the English mind should be educated up to the point of +throwing aside some cherished doctrines, the maintenance of which stood +in the way of England's safety, prosperity, and greatness. William +allowed the fruit he sought to ripen, and in 1688 he was able to do with +ease that which no human power could have done in 1687. So was it with +Mr. Lincoln, and here. Had the Proclamation lately put forth been issued +in 1861, either it would have fallen dead, or it would have met with +such opposition in the North as would have rendered it impossible to +prosecute the war with any hope of success. There would probably have +been _pronunciamientos_ from some of our armies, and the Union might +have been shivered to pieces without the enemy's lifting their hands +further against it. We do not say that such would have been the course +of events, had the Proclamation then appeared, but it might have taken +that turn; and the President had to allow for possibilities that perhaps +it never occurred to private individuals to think of,--men who had no +sense of responsibility either to the country, to the national cause, or +to the tribunal of history. He would not move as he was advised to move +by good men who had not taken into consideration all the circumstances +of the case, and who could not feel as he was forced to feel because he +was President of the United States. Probably, if he had been a private +citizen, he would have been the foremost man of the Emancipation party; +but the place he holds is so high that he must look over the whole land, +and necessarily he sees much that others can never behold. He saw that +one of two things would happen in a few months after the beginning of +active warfare, toward the close of last winter: either the Rebels would +be beaten in the field, in which event there would be reasonable hope +of the Union's reconstruction, and the people could then take charge +of slavery, and settle its future condition as to them should seem +best,--or our armies would be beaten, and the people would be made to +understand that slavery could no longer be allowed to exist for the +support of an enemy who had announced from the beginning of their +war-movement that their choice was fixed upon conquest, or, failing +that, annihilation. + +It was written that we should fail in the field. We sought to take +Richmond, with an army of force that appeared to be adequate to the +work. We were beaten; and after some months of severe warfare, the +country had the supreme felicity of celebrating the eighty-sixth +anniversary of its Independence by thanking Heaven that its principal +army had escaped capture by falling back to the fever-laden banks of a +river on which lay a naval force so strong as to prevent the further +advance of the victorious Southrons. The exertions that were made to +remove that army from a place that threatened its total destruction +through pestilence led to another series of actions, in which we were +again beaten, and the Secession armies found themselves hard by the very +station which they had so long held after their victory at Bull Run. +Had their numbers been half as large as we estimated them by way of +accounting for our defeats, they could have marched into Washington, +and the American Union would have been at an end, while the Southern +Confederacy would have taken the place which the United States had +possessed among the nations. Fortunately, the enemy were not strong +enough to hazard everything upon one daring stroke. General Lee was +as prudent, or as timid, after his victories over General Pope, as, +according to some authorities, Hannibal was after winning "the field +of blood" at Cannae. What he did, however, was sufficient to show +how serious was the danger that threatened us. If he could not take +Washington, which stood for Rome, he might take Baltimore, which should +be Capua. He entered Maryland, and his movements struck dismay into +Pennsylvania. Harrisburg was marked for seizure, and the archives of the +second State of the Union were sent to New York; and Philadelphia was +considered so unsafe as to cause men to remove articles of value thence +to her ancient rival's protection. That the enemy meant to invade the +North cannot well be doubted; but the resistance they encountered, +leading to their defeat at South Mountain and Antietam, forced them to +retreat. Had they won at Antietam, not only would Washington have been +cut off from land-communication with the North, but Pennsylvania would +have been invaded, and the Southrons would have fattened on the produce +of her rich fields. While these things were taking place in Virginia and +Maryland, Fortune had proved equally unfavorable to us in the South and +the Southwest. We had been defeated near Charleston, and most of our +troops at Port Royal had been transferred to Virginia. Charleston and +Mobile saw ships constantly entering their harbors, bringing supplies to +the Secession forces. Wilmington and Savannah were less liable to attack +than some Northern towns. An attack on Vicksburg had ended in Federal +failure. By the aid of gunboats we had prevented the enemy from taking +Baton Rouge, and destroyed their iron-clad Arkansas; but our soldiers +had to abandon that town, and leave it to be watched by ships, while +they hastened to the defence of New Orleans, a city which they could not +have held half an hour, had the protecting naval force been withdrawn. +The Southwest was mostly abandoned by our troops, and the tide of war +had rolled back to the banks of the Ohio. Nashville was looked upon as +lost, Louisville was in great danger of being taken, and for some days +there was a perfect panic throughout the country respecting the fate of +Cincinnati, the prevailing opinion being that the enemy had as good +a chance of getting possession of that town as we had of maintaining +possession of it. There was hardly a quarter to which a Unionist could +look without encountering something that filled his mind with vexation, +disappointment, shame, and gloom. All that the most hopeful of loyal men +could say was, that the enemy had been made to evacuate Maryland, and +that they had not proceeded beyond threats against any Northern State: +and that was a fine theme for congratulations, after seventeen months +of warfare, in which the Rebels were to have been beaten and the Union +restored! + +Such was the state of affairs, when, six days after the Battle of +Antietam, President Lincoln issued his Proclamation against slavery. +Some persons were pleased to be much astonished when it appeared. They +said they had been deceived. They were right. They were self-deceived. +They had deceived themselves. The President had received their pledge +of support, which they, with an egotism which is not uncommon with +politicians, had construed into a pledge from him to support slavery at +all hazards, under all circumstances, and against all comers. He had +given no pledge either to them or to their opponents. Plainly as man +could speak, he had said that his object was the nation's safety, +either with slavery or without it, the fate of slavery being with him a +secondary matter. If any construction was to be put upon his words to +Mr. Greeley beyond their plainest possible meaning, it was that he +preferred the destruction of slavery to its conservation, for it was +known that he had been an anti-slavery man for years, and he had been +made President by a party which was charged by its foes with being +so fanatically opposed to slavery that it was ready to destroy the +Constitution in order to gain a place from which it could hope to effect +its extermination. But Mr. Lincoln meant neither more nor less than what +he said, his sole object being the overthrow of the Rebels. He has done +no more than any President would have been compelled to do who should +have sought to do his duty. Mr. Douglas could have done no less, had he +been chosen President, and had rebellion followed his election, as we +believe would have been the fact. The Proclamation is not an "Abolition" +state-paper. Not one line of it is of such matter as any Abolitionist +would have penned, though all Abolitionists may be glad that it has +appeared, because its promulgation is a step in the right direction,--a +step sure to be taken, unless the first Federal efforts should also have +been the last, because leading to the defeat of the Rebels, and the +return of peace. The President nowhere says that he seeks the abolition +of slavery. The blow he has dealt is directed against slavery in the +dominions of the Confederacy. That Confederacy claims to be a nation, +and some of our acts amount to a virtual recognition of the claim which +it makes. Now, if we were at war with an old nation of which slavery was +one of the institutions, it could not be said that we had not the +right to offer freedom to its slaves. Objection might be made to +the proclamation of an offer of the kind, but it would be based on +expediency. England would not accept a plan that was formed half a +century ago for the partition of the United States, and which had for +its leading idea the proclamation of freedom to American slaves; but +her refusal was owing to the circumstance that she was herself a great +slaveholding power, and she had no thought of establishing a precedent +that might soon have been used with fatal effect against herself. She +did not close her ears to the proposition because she had any doubt +as to her right to avail herself of an offer of freedom to slaves, +or because she supposed that to make such an offer would be to act +immorally, but because it was inexpedient for her to proceed to +extremities with us, due regard being had to her own interests. Had +slavery been abolished in her dominions twenty years earlier, she would +have acted against American slavery in 1812-15, and probably with entire +success. President Lincoln does not purpose going so far as England +could have gone with perfect propriety. She could have proclaimed +freedom to American slaves without limitation. He has regard to the +character of the war that exists, and so his Proclamation is not threat, +but a warning. In substance, he tells the Rebels, that, if they shall +persist in their rebellion after a certain date, their slaves shall be +made free, if it shall be in his power to liberate them. He gives +them exactly one hundred days in which to make their election between +submission and slavery and resistance and ruin; and these hundred days +may become as noted in history as those Hundred Days which formed the +second reign of Napoleon I., as well through the consequences of the +action that shall mark their course as through the gravity of that +action itself. + +Objections have been made to the time of issuing the Proclamation. Why, +it has been asked, spring it so suddenly upon the country? Why publish +it just as the tide of war was turning in our favor? Why not wait, and +see what the effect would be on the Southern mind of the victories won +in Maryland?--We have no knowledge of the immediate reasons that moved +the President to select the twenty-second of September for the date of +his Proclamation; but we can see three reasons why that day was a good +one for the deed which thereon was done. The President may have argued, +(1,) that the American mind had been brought up to the point of +emancipation under certain well-defined conditions, and that, if he +should not avail himself of the state of opinion, the opportunity +afforded him might pass away, never to return with equal force; (2,) +that foreign nations might base acknowledgment of the Confederacy on the +defeats experienced by our armies in the last days of August, on the +danger of Washington, and on the advance of Rebel armies to the Ohio, +and he was determined that they should, if admitting the Confederacy +to national rank, place themselves in the position of supporters of +slavery; and, (3,) that the successes won by our army in Maryland, +considering the disgraceful business at Harper's Ferry, were not of that +pronounced character which entitles us to assert any supremacy over the +enemy as soldiers. Something like this would seem to be the process +through which President Lincoln arrived at the sound conclusion that the +hour had come to strike a heavy blow at the enemy, and that he was the +man for the hour. + +Thus much for the Proclamation itself, the appearance of which indicates +the beginning of a new period in the Secession contest, and shows that +the American people are capable of conquering their prejudices, provided +their schooling shall be sufficiently severe and costly. But the +Proclamation itself, and without any change in our military policy, +cannot be expected to accomplish anything for the Federal cause. Its +doctrines must be enforced, if there is to be any practical effect from +the change of position taken by the country and the President. If the +same want of capacity that has hitherto characterized the war on our +part is to be exhibited hereafter, the Proclamation might as well have +been levelled against the evils of intemperance as against the evils +of slavery. Never, since war began, has there been such imbecility +displayed in waging it as we have contrived to display in our attacks on +the enemies of the Union. It used to be supposed that Austria was the +slowest and the most stupid of military countries; but America has +got ahead of Austria in the art of doing nothing--or worse than +nothing--with myriads of men and millions of money. We stand before the +world a people to whom military success seems seldom possible, and, +when possible, rarely useful. If we win a victory, we spend weeks in +contemplating its beauties, and never think of improving it. Had one of +our generals won the Battle of Jena, he would have rested for six weeks, +and permitted the Prussian army to reorganize, instead of following it +with that swiftness which alone can prevent brave men from speedily +rallying after a lost battle. Had one of them won Waterloo, he would +not have dreamed of entering France, but would have liberally given to +Napoleon all the time that should have been necessary for his recovery +from so terrible a defeat. They have nothing in them of the qualities +even of old Bluecher, who never was counted a first-class commander. +Forbearance has never ceased to be a virtue with them. Whether their +slackness is of native growth, or is the consequence of instructions +from Government, it is plain that adherence to it can never lead to +the conquest of the Southrons. There is now a particular reason why +it should give way to something of a very different character. The +Proclamation has changed the conditions of the contest, and to be +defeated now, driven out of the field for good and all, would be a far +more mortifying termination of the war than it could have been, if we +had already failed utterly. We have committed the unpardonable sin +against slavery, and to fail now would be to place ourselves in the same +position that is held by the commander of a ship of war who nails his +colors to the mast, and yet has to get them down in order to prevent his +conqueror from annihilating him. The action of the Confederate Congress +with reference to the Proclamation, so far as we have accounts of it, +shows that the President's action has intensified the character of the +conflict, and that the enemy are preparing to fight under the banner of +the pirate, declaring that they will show no quarter, because they +look upon the Proclamation as declaring that there shall be no quarter +extended to them. The President of the United States, they say, has +avowed it to be his purpose to inaugurate a servile war in their +country, and they call fiercely for retaliation. They mean, by using +the words "servile war," to convey the impression that there is to be +a general slaying and ravishing throughout the South, on and after the +first of next January, under the special patronage of the American +President, who has ordered his soldiers and his sailors, his ships and +his corps, to be employed in protecting black ravishers of white women +and black murderers of white children. All they say is mere cant, and +is intended for the European market, which they now supply as liberally +with lies as once they did with cotton. Our foolish foes in England +accept every falsehood that is sent them from Richmond, and hence the +torrent of misrepresentation that flows from that city to London. Let +it continue to flow. It can do us no harm, if our action shall be in +correspondence with our cause and our means. If we succeed, falsehood +cannot injure us; if we fail, we shall have something of more importance +than libels to think of. We should bear in mind that our armies are not +to succeed because the slaves shall rise, but that the slaves are to be +freed as a consequence of the success of our armies. That our armies may +succeed, there must be more energy displayed both by their commanders +and by Government. The Proclamation must be enforced, or it will come to +nought. There is nothing self-enforcing about it. Its mere publication +will no more put an end to the Rebellion than President Lincoln's first +proclamation, calling upon the Rebels to cease their evil-doings and +disperse, could put an end to it. Its future value, like that of all +papers that deal with the leading interests of mankind, must depend +altogether upon the future action of the men from whom it emanates, and +that of their constituents. It stands to-day where the Declaration of +Independence stood for the five years that followed its promulgation, +waiting for its place in human annals to be prepared for it by its +supporters. Of what worth would the Declaration of Independence be now, +had it not been for Trenton and Princeton, Saratoga and Yorktown? Of +no worth at all; and its authors would be looked upon as a band of +sentimental political babblers, who could enunciate truths which neither +they nor their countrymen had the capacity to uphold and practically +to demonstrate. But the Declaration of Independence is one of the +most immortal of papers because it proved a grand success; and it was +successful because the men who put it forth were fully competent to the +grand work with the performance of which they were charged. It is for +Mr. Lincoln himself to say whether the Proclamation of September 22, +1861, shall take rank with the Declaration of July 4, 1776, or with +those evidences of flagrant failure that have become so common since +1789,--with the French Declaration of the Rights of Man, and Mexican +Constitutions. That it is the people's duty to support the President is +said by almost all men; but is it not equally the duty of the President +to support the people? And have they not supported him,--supported him +with men, with money, with the surrender of the enjoyment of some of +their dearest rights, with their full confidence, with good wishes and +better deeds, and with all the rest of the numerous moral and material +means of waging war vigorously and triumphantly? And if they have +done and are doing all this, who will be to blame, if the enemy shall +accomplish their purpose? + +The President and his immediate associates are placed so high by their +talents and their positions that they must be supposed open to the love +of fame, and to desire honorable mention in their country's annals, +especially as they have to do with matters of such transcendent +importance, greater even than those that absorbed the attention of +Washington and Hamilton, of Jefferson and Madison, of Jackson and +Livingston. It is for themselves to decide what shall be said of them +hereafter, and through all future time,--whether they shall be blessed +or banned, cursed or canonized. The judgment that shall be passed upon +them and their work will be given according to the result, and from it +there can be no appeal. The Portuguese have a well-known proverb, that +"the way to hell is paved with good intentions;" but it is not +the laborers on that broad and crowded highway who gain honorable +immortality. The decisions of posterity are not made with reference to +men's motives and intentions, but upon their deeds. With posterity, +success is the proper proof of merit, when nothing necessary to its +winning is denied to the players in the world's great games. Richmond is +worshipped, and Richard detested, not because the former was good and +great, and the latter wicked and weak, for Richard was the better and +the abler man, but for the reason that the decision was in Richmond's +favor on Bosworth Field. The only difference between Catiline and +Caesar, according to an eminent statesman and scholar, is this: Catiline +was crushed by his foes, and Caesar's foes were crushed by him. This +may seem harsh, but we fear that it is only too true,--that it is in +accordance with that irreversible law of the world which makes success +the test of worth in the management of human affairs. If Mr. Lincoln +and his confidential officers would have the highest American places in +after-days as well as to-day, let them win those places by winning the +nation's battle. They can have them on no other terms. That is one of +the conditions of the part they accepted when they took upon themselves +their present posts at the beginning of a period of civil convulsion. If +they fail, they will be doomed to profound contempt. In the words of the +foremost man of all this modern world, uttered at the very crisis of his +own fortunes,--Napoleon I., in the summer of 1813,--"To be judged by the +event is the inexorable law of history." + + + + +HOW TO CHOOSE A RIFLE. + + +_To the Editors of the_ ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +Some thirty years ago, a gentleman who had just returned from Europe was +trying to convey an idea of the size and magnificence of St. Peter's +Church to a New-England country-clergyman, and was somewhat taken aback +by the remark of the good man, that "the Pope must require a very +powerful voice to fill such a building." + +The anecdote has been brought to my mind by the unexpected position in +which I am placed, as the recipient of such a multitude of letters, +and from such widely separated portions of the country, elicited by my +article on Rifle-Clubs in the "Atlantic" for September, that I find +myself called upon to address an audience extending from Maine to +Minnesota. Fortunately for me, however, the columns of the "Atlantic" +afford facilities of communication not enjoyed by the Pope, and through +that medium I crave permission to reply to inquiries which afford most +gratifying proof of the wide-spread interest which is awakened in the +subject. + +Almost every letter contains the inquiry, "What is the new +breech-loading rifle you allude to, and where is it to be had?"--but a +large proportion of them also ask advice as to the selection of a rifle; +and with such evidence of general interest in the inquiry, I have +thought I could not do better than to frame my reply specially to this +point. + +The rifle above alluded to is not yet in the market, and probably will +not be for some time to come. Only three or four samples have been +manufactured, and after being subjected to every possible test short +of actual service in the hands of troops, it has proved so entirely +satisfactory that preparations are now making for its extensive +production. Thus far it is known as the Ashcroft rifle, from the name of +the proprietor, Mr. E.H. Ashcroft of Boston, the persevering energy +of whose efforts to secure its introduction will probably never be +appreciated as it deserves, except perhaps by those who have gone +through the trial of bringing out an idea involving in its conception a +great public benefit. + +Lieutenant Busk, in hid "Hand-Book for Hythe," says, "I cannot imagine a +much more helpless or hopeless position than that of an individual who, +having determined to expend his ten or twenty guineas in the purchase +of a rifle, and, guided only by the light of Nature, applies to +a respectable gun-maker to supply his want. I never hear of an +inexperienced buyer in search of a rifle without being reminded of the +purchaser of a telescope, who, on asking the optician, among a multitude +of other questions, whether he would be able to discern an object +through it four miles off, received for reply, 'See an object _four_ +miles off, Sir? You can see an object four-and-twenty thousand miles +off, Sir,--you can see the moon, Sir!' In like manner, if you naively +inquire of a gun-maker whether a particular rifle will carry two hundred +yards, the chances are he will exclaim, emphatically, 'Two hundred +yards, Sir? It will carry fifteen hundred.' And so no doubt it may. The +only question, is, How?" + +The questions which have been addressed to me for a few weeks past have +given me a keen appreciation of the difficulties alluded to, in which +multitudes are at this moment plunged, to whom I shall be but too happy +if it is in my power to extend a helping hand. + +At the outset, however, it is but fair to declare my conviction that +no man who has any just appreciation of the subject would attempt to +_choose_ a gun for another, any more than he would a horse, or, I had +almost said, a wife; but he may lay down certain general rules which +each individual must apply for himself, exercising his own taste in the +details. Thus, I have elsewhere declared my own predilection for Colt's +rifle; and I hold to it notwithstanding a strong prejudice against it +which very generally exists. I do not mean to assert that it is a better +shooter than many others, and still less would I urge any one else to +procure one because I like it, but I simply say that its performance is +equal to my requirements, and that the whole construction and getting-up +of the gun suit my fancy; and the fact that another man dislikes it is +no reason why I should discard it. + +I have known men who were continually changing their guns, and seemed +satisfied only with novelties. With such a taste I have no sympathy, +but, on the contrary, my feeling of attachment to a trusty weapon +strengthens with my familiarity with its merits, till it becomes so near +akin to affection that I should find it hard to part with one which had +served me well, and was associated in my mind with adventures whose +interest was derived from its successful performance. + +The first piece of advice I would offer to a novice in search of a gun +is, "Don't be in a hurry." + +The demand is such that a buyer is constantly urged to close a bargain +by the assurance that it may be his last chance to secure such a weapon +as the one he is examining,--and great numbers of mere toys have thus +been forced upon purchasers, who, if they ever practise enough to +acquire a taste for shooting, will send them to the auction-room, and +make another effort to procure a gun suited to their wants. Several new +patterns of guns have been produced within the last year, some of which +are very attractive in their appearance, and to an inexperienced person +seem to possess sufficient power for any service they may ever be called +upon to perform. They are well finished, compact, light, and pretty. +A Government Inspector, indeed, would be apt to make discoveries of +"malleable iron," which would cause their instant rejection, but which +in reality constitutes no ground of objection to guns whose parts are +not required to be interchangeable. They might be described as "well +adapted for ladies' use, or for boys learning to shoot;" but it gave me +a sickening sense of the inexperience of many a noble-hearted youth who +may have entered the service from the purest motives of patriotism, when +a dealer, who was exhibiting one of these parlor-weapons, with a calibre +no larger than a good-sized pea, informed me that he had sold a great +many to young officers, being so light that they could be carried slung +upon the back almost as easily as a pistol. It is with no such kid-glove +tools as these that so many of our officers have been picked off by +Southern sharp-shooters. At a long range they are useless; at close +quarters, which is the only situation in which an officer actually needs +fire-arms, a revolver is far preferable. I know of no rifle so well +adapted to an officer's use as Colt's carbine,--of eighteen or +twenty-one inch barrel, and not less than 44/100 of an inch calibre. It +may be depended upon for six hundred yards, the short barrel renders +its manipulation easy in a close fight, and the value of the repeating +principle at such a time can be estimated only by that of life. + +In a perfectly calm atmosphere, the light guns I have alluded to will +shoot very well for one or two hundred yards; but no one can conceive, +till he proves it by actual trial, what an amazing difference in +precision is the result of even a very slight increase of weight of +ball, when the air is in motion. Even in a dead calm no satisfactory +shooting can be done beyond two hundred yards with a lighter ball than +half an ounce, and any one who becomes interested in rifle-practice will +soon grow impatient of being confined to short ranges and calm weather. +This brings us, then, to the question of calibre, which I conceive to be +the first one to be decided in selecting a gun, and the decision rests +upon the uses to which the gun is to be applied. If it is wanted merely +for military service, nothing better than the Enfield can be procured; +but if the purchaser proposes to study the niceties of practice, and to +enter into it with a keen zest, he will need a very different style of +gun. A calibre large enough for a round ball of fifty to the pound, or +an elongated shot of about half an ounce, is sufficient for six hundred +yards; and a gun of that calibre, with a thirty-inch barrel, and a +weight of about ten pounds, is better suited to the general wants of +purchasers than any other size. In this part of the country it is by no +means easy to find a place where shooting can be safely practised even +at so long a range as five hundred yards,--which is sixty yards more +than a quarter of a mile. It is always necessary to have an attendant +at the target to point out the shots, and even then the shooter needs +a telescope to distinguish them. For ordinary purposes, therefore, the +calibre I have indicated is all-sufficient; but if a gun is wanted for +shooting up to one thousand yards, the shot should be a full ounce +weight. These are points which each man must determine for himself, and, +having done so, let him go to any gun-maker of established reputation, +and, before giving his order, let him study and compare the different +forms of stocks, till he finds what is required for his peculiar +physical conformation,--and giving directions accordingly, he will +probably secure a weapon whose merits he will not fully appreciate +till he has attained a degree of skill which is the result only of +long-continued practice. + +But never buy a gun, and least of all a rifle, without trying it; and do +not be satisfied with a trial in a shop or shooting gallery, but take it +into the field; and if you distrust yourself, get some one in whom you +have confidence to try it for you. Choose a perfectly calm day. Have a +rest prepared on which not only the gun may be laid, but a support may +also be had for the elbows, the shooter being seated. By this means, and +with the aid of globe- and peek-sights, (which should always be used in +trying a gun,) it may as certainly be held in the same position at every +shot as if it were clamped in a machine. For your target take a sheet of +cartridge-paper and draw on it a circle of a foot, and, inside of that, +another of four inches in diameter. Paint the space between the rings +black, and you will then have a black ring four inches wide surrounding +a white four-inch bull's-eye, against which your globe-sight will be +much more distinctly seen than if it were black. Place the target so +that when shooting you may have the sun on your back. On a very bright +day, brown paper is better for a target than white. Begin shooting +at one hundred yards and fire ten shots, with an exact aim at the +bull's-eye, wiping out the gun after each shot. Do not look to see where +you hit, till you have fired your string of ten shots; for, if you +do, you will be tempted to alter your aim and make allowance for the +variation, whereas your object now is not to hit the bull's-eye, but to +prove the shooting of the gun; and if you find, when you get through, +that all the shots are close together, you may be sure the gun shoots +well, though they may be at considerable distance from the bull's-eye. +That would only prove that the line of sight was not coincident with the +line of fire, which can be easily rectified by moving the forward sight +to the right or left, according as the variation was on the one side +or the other. Having fired your string of ten shots, take a pair of +dividers, and, with a radius equal to half the distance between the two +hits most distant from each other, describe a circle cutting through the +centre of each of those hits. From the centre of this circle measure the +distance to each of the hits, add these distances together and divide +the sum by ten, and you have the average variation, which ought not to +be over two inches at the utmost, and if the gun is what it ought to be, +and fired by a good marksman, would probably be much less. This is a +sufficient test of the precision for that distance, and the same method +may be adopted for longer ranges. But if the gun shoots well at one +hundred yards, its capacity for a longer range may be proved by its +penetrating power. Provide a number of pieces of seasoned white-pine +board, one inch thick and say two feet long by sixteen inches wide. +These are to be secured parallel to each other and one inch apart by +strips nailed firmly to their sides, and must be so placed that when +shot at the balls may strike fairly at a right angle to their face. +Try a number of shots at the distance of one hundred yards, and note +carefully how many boards are penetrated at each shot. The elongated +shots are sometimes turned in passing through a board so as to strike +the next one sideways, which of course increases the resistance very +greatly, and such shots should not be counted; but if you find generally +that the penetration of those which strike fairly is not over six +inches, you may rest assured the gun cannot be relied on, except in +a dead calm, for more than two hundred yards, and with anything of a +breeze you will make no good shooting even at that distance. Nine inches +of penetration is equal to six hundred yards, and twelve inches is good +for a thousand. + +A striking proof of the prevailing ignorance of scientific principles in +rifle-shooting is afforded by the fact that it is still a very common +practice to vary the charge of powder according to the distance to be +shot. The fact is, that beyond a certain point any increase of the +initial velocity of the ball is unfavorable both to range and precision, +owing to the ascertained law that the ratio of increase of atmospheric +resistance is four times that of the velocity, so that, after the point +is reached at which they balance each other, any additional propulsive +power is injurious. The proper charge of powder for any rifle is about +one-seventh the weight of the ball, and the only means which should ever +be adopted for increasing the range is the elevating sight. + +In conclusion, I would impress upon the young rifleman the importance +of always keeping his weapon in perfect order. If you have never looked +through the barrel of a rifle, you can have no conception what a +beautifully finished instrument it is; and when you learn that the +accuracy of its shooting may be affected by a variation of the +thousandth part of an inch on its interior surface, you may appreciate +the necessity of guarding against the intrusion of even a speck of rust. +Never suffer your rifle to be laid aside after use till it has +been thoroughly cleaned,--the barrel wiped first with a wet rag, +(cotton-flannel is best,) then rubbed dry, then well oiled, and then +again wiped with a dry rag. In England this work may be left to a +servant, but with us the servants are so rare to whom such work can be +intrusted that the only safe course is to see to it yourself; and if you +have a true sportsman's love for a gun, you will not find the duty a +disagreeable one. + + * * * * * + + +THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION. + + +In so many arid forms which States incrust themselves with, once in a +century, if so often, a poetic act and record occur. These are the jets +of thought into affairs, when, roused by danger or inspired by genius, +the political leaders of the day break the else insurmountable routine +of class and local legislation, and take a step forward in the direction +of catholic and universal interests. Every step in the history of +political liberty is a sally of the human mind into the untried future, +and has the interest of genius, and is fruitful in heroic anecdotes. +Liberty is a slow fruit. It comes, like religion, for short periods, and +in rare conditions, as if awaiting a culture of the race which shall +make it organic and permanent. Such moments of expansion in modern +history were the Confession of Augsburg, the plantation of America, the +English Commonwealth of 1648, the Declaration of American Independence +in 1776, the British emancipation of slaves in the West Indies, the +passage of the Reform Bill, the repeal of the Corn-Laws, the Magnetic +Ocean-Telegraph, though yet imperfect, the passage of the Homestead +Bill in the last Congress, and now, eminently, President Lincoln's +Proclamation on the twenty-second of September. These are acts of +great scope, working on a long future, and on permanent interests, and +honoring alike those who initiate and those who receive them. These +measures provoke no noisy joy, but are received into a sympathy so deep +as to apprise us that mankind are greater and better than we know. At +such times it appears as if a new public were created to greet the +new event. It is as when an orator, having ended the compliments and +pleasantries with which he conciliated attention, and having run over +the superficial fitness and commodities of the measure he urges, +suddenly, lending himself to some happy inspiration, announces with +vibrating voice the grand human principles involved,--the bravoes and +wits who greeted him loudly thus far are surprised and overawed: a new +audience is found in the heart of the assembly,--an audience hitherto +passive and unconcerned, now at last so searched and kindled that they +come forward, every one a representative of mankind, standing for all +nationalities. + +The extreme moderation with which the President advanced to his +design,--his long-avowed expectant policy, as if he chose to be strictly +the executive of the best public sentiment of the country, waiting only +till it should be unmistakably pronounced,--so fair a mind that none +ever listened so patiently to such extreme varieties of opinion,--so +reticent that his decision has taken all parties by surprise, whilst +yet it is the just sequel of his prior acts,--the firm tone in which he +announces it, without inflation or surplusage,--all these have bespoken +such favor to the act, that, great as the popularity of the President +has been, we are beginning to think that we have underestimated the +capacity and virtue which the Divine Providence has made an instrument +of benefit so vast. He has been permitted to do more for America than +any other American man. He is well entitled to the most indulgent +construction. Forget all that we thought shortcomings, every mistake, +every delay. In the extreme embarrassments of his part, call these +endurance, wisdom, magnanimity, illuminated, as they now are, by this +dazzling success. + +When we consider the immense opposition that has been neutralized or +converted by the progress of the war, (for it is not long since the +President anticipated the resignation of a large number of officers in +the army, and the secession of three States, on the promulgation of this +policy,)--when we see how the great stake which foreign nations hold in +our affairs has recently brought every European power as a client into +this court, and it became every day more apparent what gigantic and +what remote interests were to be affected by the decision of the +President,--one can hardly say the deliberation was too long. Against +all timorous counsels he had the courage to seize the moment; and such +was his position, and such the felicity attending the action, that he +has replaced Government in the good graces of mankind. "Better is virtue +in the sovereign than plenty in the season," say the Chinese. 'Tis +wonderful what power is, and how ill it is used, and how its ill use +makes life mean, and the sunshine dark. Life in America had lost much of +its attraction in the later years. The virtues of a good magistrate undo +a world of mischief, and, because Nature works with rectitude, seem +vastly more potent than the acts of bad governors, which are ever +tempered by the good-nature in the people, and the incessant resistance +which fraud and violence encounter. + +The acts of good governors work at a geometrical ratio, as one midsummer +day seems to repair the damage of a year of war. + +A day which most of us dared not hope to see, an event worth the +dreadful war, worth its costs and uncertainties, seems now to be close +before us. October, November, December will have passed over beating +hearts and plotting brains: then the hour will strike, and all men of +African descent who have faculty enough to find their way to our lines +are assured of the protection of American law. + +It is by no means necessary that this measure should be suddenly marked +by any signal results on the negroes or on the Rebel masters. The force +of the act is that it commits the country to this justice,--that it +compels the innumerable officers, civil, military, naval, of the +Republic to range themselves on the line of this equity. It draws the +fashion to this side. It is not a measure that admits of being taken +back. Done, it cannot be undone by a new Administration. For slavery +overpowers the disgust of the moral sentiment only through immemorial +usage. It cannot be introduced as an improvement of the nineteenth +century. This act makes that the lives of our heroes have not been +sacrificed in vain. It makes a victory of our defeats. Our hurts are +healed; the health of the nation is repaired. With a victory like this, +we can stand many disasters. It does not promise the redemption of the +black race: that lies not with us: but it relieves it of our opposition. +The President by this act has paroled all the slaves in America; they +will no more fight against us; and it relieves our race once for all of +its crime and false position. The first condition of success is secured +in putting ourselves right. We have recovered ourselves from our false +position, and planted ourselves on a law of Nature. + + "If that fail, + The pillared firmament is rottenness, + And earth's base built on stubble." + +The Government has assured itself of the best constituency in the world: +every spark of intellect, every virtuous feeling, every religious heart, +every man of honor, every poet, every philosopher, the generosity of the +cities, the health of the country, the strong arms of the mechanics, the +endurance of farmers, the passionate conscience of women, the sympathy +of distant nations,--all rally to its support. Of course, we are +assuming the firmness of the policy thus declared. It must not be a +paper proclamation. We confide that Mr. Lincoln is in earnest, and, as +he has been slow in making up his mind, has resisted the importunacy of +parties and of events to the latest moment, he will be as absolute in +his adhesion. Not only will he repeat and follow up his stroke, but the +nation will add its irresistible strength. If the ruler has duties, so +has the citizen. In times like these, when the nation is imperilled, +what man can, without shame, receive good news from day to day, without +giving good news of himself? What right has any one to read in the +journals tidings of victories, if he has not bought them by his own +valor, treasure, personal sacrifice, or by service as good in his own +department? With this blot removed from our national honor, this heavy +load lifted off the national heart, we shall not fear henceforward +to show our faces among mankind. We shall cease to be hypocrites and +pretenders, but what we have styled our free institutions will be such. + +In the light of this event the public distress begins to be removed. +What if the brokers' quotations show our stocks discredited, and the +gold dollar costs one hundred and twenty-seven cents? These tables are +fallacious. Every acre in the Free States gained substantial value on +the twenty-second of September. The cause of disunion and war has been +reached, and begun to be removed. Every man's house-lot and garden +are relieved of the malaria which the purest winds and the strongest +sunshine could not penetrate and purge. The territory of the Union +shines to-day with a lustre which every European emigrant can discern +from far: a sign of inmost security and permanence. Is it feared that +taxes will check immigration? That depends on what the taxes are spent +for. If they go to fill up this yawning Dismal Swamp, which engulfed +armies and populations, and created plague, and neutralized hitherto +all the vast capabilities of this continent,--then this taxation, which +makes the land wholesome and habitable, and will draw all men unto +it, is the best investment in which property-holder ever lodged his +earnings. + +Whilst we have pointed out the opportuneness of the Proclamation, it +remains to be said that the President had no choice. He might look +wistfully for what variety of courses lay open to him: every line but +one was closed up with fire. This one, too, bristled with danger, +but through it was the sole safety. The measure he has adopted was +imperative. It is wonderful to see the unseasonable senility of what is +called the Peace party, through all its masks, blinding their eyes to +the main feature of the war, namely, its inevitableness. The war existed +long before the cannonade of Sumter, and could not be postponed. It +might have begun otherwise or elsewhere, but war was in the minds and +bones of the combatants, it was written on the iron leaf, and you +might as easily dodge gravitation. If we had consented to a peaceable +secession of the Rebels, the divided sentiment of the Border States made +peaceable secession impossible, the insatiable temper of the South made +it impossible, and the slaves on the border, wherever the border might +be, were an incessant fuel to rekindle the fire. Give the Confederacy +New Orleans, Charleston, and Richmond, and they would have demanded St. +Louis and Baltimore. Give them these, and they would have insisted on +Washington. Give them Washington, and they would have assumed the army +and navy, and, through these, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. It +looks as if the battle-field would have been at least as large in that +event as it is now. The war was formidable, but could not be avoided. +The war was and is an immense mischief, but brought with it the immense +benefit of drawing a line, and rallying the Free States to fix it +impassably,--preventing the whole force of Southern connection and +influence throughout the North from distracting every city with endless +confusion, detaching that force and reducing it to handfuls, and, in the +progress of hostilities, disinfecting us of our habitual proclivity, +through the affection of trade, and the traditions of the Democratic +party, to follow Southern leading. + +These necessities which have dictated the conduct of the Federal +Government are overlooked, especially by our foreign critics. +The popular statement of the opponents of the war abroad is the +impossibility of our success. "If you could add," say they, "to your +strength the whole army of England, of France, and of Austria, you +could not coerce eight millions of people to come under this Government +against their will." This is an odd thing for an Englishman, a +Frenchman, or an Austrian to say, who remembers the Europe of the last +seventy years,--the condition of Italy, until 1859,--of Poland, since +1793,--of France, of French Algiers,--of British Ireland, and British +India. But, granting the truth, rightly read, of the historical +aphorism, that "the people always conquer," it is to be noted, that, +in the Southern States, the tenure of land, and the local laws, with +slavery, give the social system not a democratic, but an aristocratic +complexion; and those States have shown every year a more hostile and +aggressive temper, until the instinct of self-preservation forced us +into the war. And the aim of the war on our part is indicated by the +aim of the President's Proclamation, namely, to break up the false +combination of Southern society, to destroy the piratic feature in it +which makes it our enemy only as it is the enemy of the human race, and +so allow its reconstruction on a just and healthful basis. Then new +affinities will act, the old repulsions will cease, and, the cause +of war being removed, Nature and trade may be trusted to establish a +lasting peace. + +We think we cannot overstate the wisdom and benefit of this act of the +Government. The malignant cry of the Secession press within the Free +States, and the recent action of the Confederate Congress, are decisive +as to its efficiency and correctness of aim. Not less so is the silent +joy which has greeted it in all generous hearts, and the new hope it has +breathed into the world. + +It was well to delay the steamers at the wharves, until this edict could +be put on board. It will be an insurance to the ship as it goes plunging +through the sea with glad tidings to all people. Happy are the young who +find the pestilence cleansed out of the earth, leaving open to them +an honest career. Happy the old, who see Nature purified before they +depart. Do not let the dying die: hold them back to this world, until +you have charged their ear and heart with this message to other +spiritual societies, announcing the melioration of our planet. + + "Incertainties now crown themselves assured, + And Peace proclaims olives of endless age." + +Meantime that ill-fated, much-injured race which the Proclamation +respects will lose somewhat of the dejection sculptured for ages in +their bronzed countenance, uttered in the wailing of their plaintive +music,--a race naturally benevolent, joyous, docile, industrious, and +whose very miseries sprang from their great talent for usefulness, +which, in a more moral age, will not only defend their independence, but +will give them a rank among nations. + + * * * * * + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_History of Friedrich the Second, called Frederick the Great._ By THOMAS +CARLYLE. In Four Volumes. Vol. III. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1862. + +Although History flows in a channel never quite literally dry, and for +certain purposes a continuous chronicle of its current is desirable, +it is only in rare reaches, wherein it meets formidable obstacles to +progress, that it becomes grand and impressive; and even in such cases +the interest deepens immeasurably, when some master-spirit arises to +direct its energies. The period of Frederick the Great was not one of +these remarkable passages. It was marked, however, with the signs that +precede such. Europe lay weltering and tossing in seemingly aimless +agitation, yet in real birth-throes; and the issue was momentous and +memorable, namely: The People. From the hour in which they emerged from +the darkness of the French Revolution, they have so absorbed attention +that men have had little opportunity to look into the causes which +forced them to the front, and made wiser leadership thenceforth +indispensable to peaceful rule. The field, too, was repulsive with the +appearance of nearly a waste place, save only that Frederick the Second +won the surname of "Great" by his action thereon. And it may be justly +averred that only to reveal his life, and perhaps that of one other, was +it worthy of resuscitation. To do this was an appalling labor, for the +skeleton thereof was scattered through the crypts of many kingdoms; yet, +by the commanding genius of Mr. Carlyle, bone hath not only come to +his bone, but they have been clothed with flesh and blood, so that the +captains of the age, and, moreover, the masses, as they appeared in +their blind tusslings, are restored to sight with the freshness +and fulness of Nature. Although this historical review is strictly +illustrative, it is altogether incomparable for vividness and +originality of presentation. The treatment of official personages is +startlingly new. All ceremony toward them gives place to a fearful +familiarity, as of one who not only sees through and through them, but +oversees. Grave Emptiness and strutting Vanity, found in high places, +are mocked with immortal mimicry. Indeed, those of the "wind-bag" +species generally, wherever they appear in important affairs, are so +admirably exposed, that we see how they inevitably lead States to +disaster and leave them ruins, while their pompous and feeble methods of +doing it are so put as to call forth the contemptuous smiles, yea, the +derisive laughter, of all coming generations. In fine, the alternate +light and shade, which so change the aspect and make the mood of human +nature, were never so touched in before; and therefore it is the saddest +and the merriest story ever told. + +In bold and splendid contrast with this picture of national life flow +the life and fortunes of Frederick. If the qualities of his progenitors +prophesied this right royal course, his portrait, by Pesne, shows him +to have been conceived in some happy moment when Nature was in her most +generous mood. What finish of form and feature! and what apparent power +to win! Yet in what serene depths it rests, to be aroused only by some +superb challenger! No strength of thought or stress of situation seems +to have had power to line the curves of beauty. Observe, too, the +full-blown mouth, which never saw cause to set itself in order to form +or fortify a purpose. When it is remembered that in opening manhood this +prince was long imprisoned under sentence of death for attempting to +escape from paternal tyranny, and that his friend actually died on the +gallows merely for generous complicity in this offence against the state +of a king, and that neither of the terrible facts left permanent trace +on his countenance or cloud on his spirit, it should create no surprise +that nothing but the march of time was ever visible there. Though +trained in such a school, and in the twenty-eighth year of his age when +he reached the throne, he yet gave a whole and a full heart to his +subjects, and sought to guide them solely for their good. From this +purpose he never swerved; and though his somewhat too trustful methods +were rapidly changed by stern experience, his people felt more and more +the consummate wisdom of his guidance, and they became unconquerable +by that truth and that faith. Almost on the first day of his reign, he +invited Voltaire, the greatest of literary heroes, the most adroit and +successful assaulter of king-craft and priest-craft that ever lived, to +his capital and to his palace; and in a most friendly spirit consulted +him on the advancement of art and letters, exhausted him by the +touchstone of superior capacity, and even fathomed him by a glance +so keen and so covert that it always took, but never gave, and then +complimented him home in so masterly a manner that he was lured into the +fond belief that he had found a disciple. A mind so capacious and so +reticent is always an enigma to near observers. Hence it is that the +transcendently great may be more truly known to after-ages than to +any contemporary. By the patient research and profound insight of Mr. +Carlyle, Frederick the Great is thus rising into clear and perennial +light. What deserts of dust he wrought in, and what a jungle of false +growths he had to clear away, Dryasdust and Smelfungus mournfully hint +and indignantly moralize,--under such significant names does this new +Rhadamanthus reveal the real sins of mankind, and deliver them over to +the judgment of their peers. Frederick, indeed, is among them, but not +of them. The way in which he is made to come forth from the mountains of +smoke and cinders remaining of his times is absolutely marvellous. As +some mighty and mysterious necromancer quickens the morbid imagination +to supernatural sight, and for a brief moment reveals through rolling +mist and portentous cloud the perfect likeness of the one longed for +by the rapt gazer, so Frederick is restored in this biography for +the perpetual consolation and admiration of all coming heroes. In +comprehension and judgment of the actions and hearts of men, and in +vividness of writing, not that which shook the soul of Belshazzar in the +midst of his revellers was more powerful, or more sure of approval and +fulfilment. It is not only one of the greatest of histories and of +biographies, but nothing in literature, from any other pen, bears any +likeness to it. It is truly a solitary work,--the effort of a vast and +lonely nature to find a meet companion among the departed. + + +1. _The Rejected Stone; or, Insurrection vs. Resurrection in America._ +By a Native of Virginia. Second Edition. Boston: Walker, Wise, & Co. +1862. + +2. _The Golden Hour._ By MONCURE D. CONWAY, Author of "The Rejected +Stone." _Impera parendo._ Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1862. + +Seldom have political writings found such accomplices in events as +these, whose final criticism appears in the great Proclamation of the +President. Two campaigns have been the bloody partisans of this earnest +pen: the impending one will cheerfully undertake its final vindication. +Not because these two little books stand sole and preeminent, the +isolated prophecies of an all but rejected truth, nor because they have +created the opinion out of which the President gathers breath for his +glorious words. Mr. Conway would hardly claim more, we think, than to +have spoken frankly what the people felt, the same people which hailed +the early emancipationing instinct of General Fremont. We see the fine +sense of Mr. Emerson in his advice to hitch our wagon to a star, but +there must be a well-seasoned vehicle, with a cunning driver to thrust +his pin through the coupling, one not apt to jump out when the axles +begin to smoke. + +At the first overt act of this great Rebellion, anti-slavery men +perceived the absurdity of resisting a symptom instead of attacking the +disease. They proclaimed the old-fashioned truth, that an eruption can +be rubbed back again into the system, not only without rubbing out +its cause, but at the greatest hazard to the system, which is loudly +announcing its difficulty in this cutaneous fashion. But Northern +politicians saw that the inflammatory blotches made the face of the +country ugly and repulsive: their costliest preparations have been well +rubbed in ever since, without even yet reducing the rebellious red; +on the contrary, it flamed out more vigorously than ever. Their old +practice was not abandoned, the medicines only were changed. The wash +of compromise was replaced by the bath of blood. And into that dreadful +color the tears and agony of a million souls have been distilled, as if +they would make a mixture powerful enough to draw out all our trouble +by the pores. The very skin of the Rebellion chafed and burned more +fiercely with all this quackery. + +If Slavery is our disease, the Abolition of Slavery is our remedy. Our +bayonets only cupped and scored the patient, our war-measures in and out +of Congress only worked dynamically against other war-measures far more +dogged and desperate than our own. The sentence of Emancipation is the +specific whose operation will be vital, by effecting an alteration in +the system, and soon annihilating that condition of the blood which +feeds our fevers and rushes in disgusting blotches to the face. "No,"--a +Northern minority still says,--"every fever has its term; only watch +your self-limiting disease, keep the patient from getting too much hurt +during his delirium, and he will be on 'Change before long." + +No doubt of that. He loves to be on 'Change; of all the places in the +country, out of his own patriarchal neighborhoods, not even Saratoga +and Newport were ever so exhilarating to him as Wall Street and State +Street, and he longs to be well enough to infest his whilom haunts. +Slavery is a self-limited disease, for it suffers nothing but itself to +impose its limits. In that sense the North would soon have his old crony +on the pavement again, with one yellow finger in his button-hole, and +another nervously playing at a trigger behind the back. For the North +was paying roundly in men and dollars to renew that pleasurable +intercourse, to get the dear old soul out again as little dilapidated as +possible, with as much of the old immunities and elasticities preserved +as an attack so violent would allow. + +The President said to the deputation of Quakers, "Where the Constitution +cannot yet go, a proclamation cannot." This was accepted by a portion of +the North as another compact expression of Presidential wisdom. It was +the common sense, curtly and neatly put, upon which our armies waited, +and for whose cold and bleached utterances our glorious young men were +sent home from Washington by rail in coffins, red receipts of Slavery to +acknowledge Northern indecision. It was the kind of common sense which, +after every family-tomb has got its tenant, and wives, mothers, sisters +tears to be their bread and meat continually, would have jogged on +'Change snugly some fine morning arm in arm with the murderer of their +noble dead. + +For, though neither the Constitution nor a proclamation can quite yet go +down practically into Slavery, Slavery might come up here to find the +Constitution in its old place at the Potomac ferry, and without a toll +or pike to heed. + +It seemed so sensible to say, that, where one document cannot go, +another cannot! And yet it depends upon what is in the document. If the +Constitution _could_ go South now, it would be the last thing we should +want to send, at this stage of the national malady. It contains the +immunity out of which the malady has flamed. Its very neutrality is the +best protection which a conquered South could have, and a moral triumph +that would richly compensate it for a military defeat. Would it not have +been quite as sagacious, and equally aphoristic, if the President had +said, "Where a proclamation cannot go, the Constitution never can +again"? He has said it! And if the proclamation goes first, the +Constitution will follow to bless and to save. + +Both of these little books of Mr. Conway are devoted to showing the +necessity for a proclamation of emancipation, as simple justice, as +military policy, as mercy to the South, to put us right at home and +abroad, to destroy at once the cause of the Republic's shame and sorrow. +He combats various objections: such as that a proclamation of that +nature would send home instantly the pro-slavery officers and men who +are now fighting merely to enhance their own importance or to restore +the state of things before the war: that a proclamation of emancipation, +finding its way, as it surely would, to the heart of every slave, would +breed insurrections and all the horrors of a servile war: that such +a document would not be worth the paper which it blotted, until the +military power of the South was definitively broken: that it would +convert the Border States into active foes, and make them rush by +natural proclivity into the bosom of Secession. Mr. Conway disposes well +of a great deal of trash which even good Republican papers, upon which +we have hitherto relied, but can do so no longer, have vented under all +these heads of objections. + +He writes with such enthusiasm, and is so plainly a dear lover and +worshipper of the justice which can alone exalt this nation, that we are +carried clear over the wretched half-republicanism which has been trying +all the year to say eminently sound and unexceptionable things, we +forget the deceit and expediency whose leaded columns have been more +formidable than those which rolled the tide of war back again to the +Potomac. Great is the animating power of faith, when faithfully brought +home to the universal instinct for righteousness. Mr. Conway was born +and bred among slaveholders, knows them and their institution, knows +the slave, and his moral condition, and his expectations: so that these +inspiriting prophecies of his are more than those of a lively and +talented pamphleteer. + +His earnest purpose in writing lifts us pretty well over some things in +his style which seem to us discordant with his glorious theme. He has +a way, as good as the President's, to whom much of his matter is +addressed, of making his apologues and stories tell; they are apt, and +give the reader the sensation of being clinched. One feels like a nail +when it catches the board. But sometimes the transition to a grotesque +allusion from a fine touch of fancy or from the inbred religiousness +of the subject is abrupt. Jean Paul may offer you, in his most glowing +page, a quid of tobacco, if he pleases; the shock is picturesque, and +sometimes lets in a deep analogy. But the hour in which Mr. Conway +writes, the height of faith from which his pen stoops to the mortal +page, the unspeakable solemnity of the theme, which our volunteers are +rudely striving to trace upon their country's bosom with their blood, +and our women are steeping in their tears, ought to drive all flippancy +shuddering from the lines in which sarcasm itself should be measured and +awful as the deaths which gird us round. + +But the two volumes are full of power and feeling. They are written +so that all may read. Their effect is popular, without stooping +deliberately to become so. They are among the brightest and simplest +pages which this exciting period has produced. It would be a great +mistake to gauge their effect by what they bring to pass in the minds of +cabinet-officers, editors, and party-leaders: for they put into plain, +stout language the growing instinct of the people to get at the cause of +the war which lays them waste. + +Some of the most effective pages in these volumes are those which lament +the dread alternative of war, and which show that emancipation would be +merciful to all classes at the South. It is no paradox that to free the +slaves to-morrow would restore health to the South and regenerate its +people. + +And we are glad that Mr. Conway speaks so emphatically against that +measure of colonization, whether the proposition be to deport the +contrabands to Hayti, or to tote them away to Central America under the +leadership of intelligent colored representatives of the North. All +these are plans which look to the eventual removal of the only men +at the South who know how to labor, and who are now the only +representatives there of the country's industrial ideas. We pray you, +Mr. President, to use the money voted for colonizing purposes to rid the +country of the men in the Border and Cotton States who cannot or will +not work, slave-owners and bushwhackers, who kill and harry, but who +never did an honest stroke of work in their lives, and whom, with or +without slavery, this Republic will have to support. Take some Pacific +Island for a great Alms-House, and inaugurate an exodus of the genuine +Southern pauper; he is only an incumbrance to the industrious and +humble-minded blacks, from whose toil the country may draw the staples +of free sugar and free cotton, raised upon the soil which is theirs by +the holy prescription of blood and sorrow. "If it were not for your +presence in the country," says the President to the colored men, "we +should have no war!" If it were not for silverware and jewelry, no +burglaries would be committed! Don't let us get rid of the villains, but +of the victims; thereby villainy will cease! + +Let Mr. Pomeroy be sent to annex some of the Paumotu or Tongan groups, +where spontaneous bread-fruit would afford Mr. Floyd good plucking, and +Messrs. Wigfall, Benjamin, and Prior could even have their chewing done +by proxy, for the native pauper employs the old women to masticate his +Ava into drink. There they might continue to take their food from other +people's mouths, with the chance now and then of a strong anti-slavery +clergyman well barbecued, a luxury for which they have howled for many a +year. That is the place for your oligarchic pauper, where the elements +themselves are field-hands, with Nature for overseer, manufactures +superfluous and free-trade a blessing, and plenty of colored persons to +raise the mischief with. That is the sole crop which they have raised at +home. Let their propensities be transferred to a place unconnected with +the politics or the privileges of a Christian Republic. + +But let this great Republic drive into exile the wheat-growers of the +West, the miners and iron-men of Pennsylvania, and the farmers of New +England, as soon as these men who have created the cotton-crop which +clothes a world, and who only wait for another stimulus to supersede the +lash. Let them find it, as in Jamaica, in a plot of ground, their seed +and tools, their hearth-side and marriage, their freedom, and the +shelter of a country which wants to use the products of their hands. + +If it be an object to stretch a great band of free tropical labor across +Central America, to people those wastes with ideas which shall curb +the southward lust of men, and nourish a grateful empire against the +intrigues of European States, let that be done, if the colored American +of the Border States is willing to advance the project. Let the project +be clearly understood, and its prospective upholders frankly invited to +become men, and aid their country's welfare. But never let colonization +be opened like an artery, through whose "unkindest cut" some of the best +blood of the country shall slip away and be lost forever. We want the +cotton labor even more extensively diffused, to conquer John Bull with +bales, as at New Orleans. Let no cotton-grower ever budge. + + +_The Life and Letters of Washington Irving._ By his Nephew, PIERRE M. +IRVING. Vols. I and II. New York: G.P. Putnam. + +If to be loved and admired by all, to have troops of personal friends, +to enjoy a literary reputation wide in extent and high in degree, to +be as little stung by envy and detraction as the lot of humanity will +permit, to secure material prosperity with only occasional interruptions +and intermissions, make up the elements of a happy life, then that of +Washington Irving must be pronounced one of the most fortunate in the +annals of literature. It is but repeating a trite remark to say that +happiness depends more upon organization than upon circumstances, more +upon what we are than upon what we have. Saint-Simon said of the Duke of +Burgundy, father of Louis XV., that he was born terrible: it certainly +may be said of Washington Irving that he was born happy. Some men +are born unhappy: that is, they are born with elements of character, +peculiarities of temperament, which generate discontent under all +conditions of life. Their joints are not lubricated by oil, but fretted +by sand. The contemporaries of Shakspeare, who for the most part had +little comprehension of his unrivalled genius, expressed their sense +of his personal qualities by the epithet gentle, which was generally +applied to him,--a word which meant rather more then than it does now, +comprising sweetness, courtesy, and kindliness. No one word could +better designate the leading characteristics of Irving's nature and +temperament. No man was ever more worthy to bear "the grand old name +of gentleman," alike in the essentials of manliness, tenderness, and +purity, and in the external accomplishment of manners so winning and +cordial that they charmed alike men, women, and children. He had the +delicacy of organization which is essential to literary genius, but it +stopped short of sickliness or irritability. He was sensitive to beauty +in all its forms, but was never made unhappy or annoyed by the shadows +in the picture of life. He had a happy power of escaping from everything +that was distasteful, uncomfortable, and unlovely, and dwelling in +regions of sunshine and bloom. His temperament was not impassioned; and +this, though it may have impaired somewhat the force of his genius, +contributed much to his enjoyment of life. Considering that he was an +American born, and that his youth and early manhood were passed in a +period of bitter and virulent political strife, it is remarkable how +free his writings are from the elements of conflict and opposition. He +never put any vinegar into his ink. He seems to have been absolutely +without the capacity of hating any living thing. He was a literary +artist; and the productions of his pen address themselves to the +universal and unpartisan sympathies of mankind as much as paintings +or statues. His "Rip Van Winkle" and "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" are +pictures, in which we find combined the handling of Teniers, the +refinement of Stothard, and the coloring of Gainsborough. + +Fortunate in so many other things, Irving may also be pronounced +fortunate in his biographer, whom he himself designated for the trust. +His nephew has performed his labor of love in a manner which will +satisfy all but those who read a book mainly for the purpose of finding +fault with it. In his brief and tasteful preface he says: "In the +delicate office of sifting, selecting, and arranging these different +materials, extending through a period of nearly sixty years, it has +been my aim to make the author, in every stage of his career, as far as +possible, his own biographer, conscious that I shall in this way best +fulfil the duty devolved upon me, and give to the world the truest +picture of his life and character." To this purpose Mr. Pierre M. +Irving has adhered with uniform consistency. He makes his uncle his own +biographer. To borrow a happy illustration which we found in a newspaper +a few days since, his own portion of the book is like the crystal of +a watch, through which we see the hands upon the face as through +transparent air. And luckily he found ample materials in his uncle's +papers and records. Washington Irving was not bred to any profession, +and had a fixed aversion, not characteristic of his countrymen, for +regular business-occupation; his literary industry was fitful, and not +continuous: but he seems to have been fond of the occupation of writing, +and spent upon his diaries and in his correspondence a great many hours, +which he could hardly have done, if he had been a lawyer, a doctor, or +even a merchant, in active employment. His warm family-affections, too, +his strong love for his brothers and sisters, from most of whom he was +for many years separated, were a constant incitement to the writing of +letters, those invisible wires that keep up the communication between +parted hearts. For all these peculiarities of nature, for all these +accidents of fortune, we have reason to be grateful, since from these +his biographer has found ample materials for constructing the fabric of +his life from the foundation. + +Many of Irving's letters, especially in the second volume, are long and +elaborate productions, which read like chapters from a book of travels, +or like essays, and yet do not on that account lose the peculiar charm +which we demand in such productions. They are perfectly natural in tone +and feeling, though evidently written with some care. They are not in +the least artificial, and yet not careless or hasty. They have all that +easy and graceful flow, that transparent narrative, that unconscious +charm, which we find in his published writings; and we not unfrequently +discern gleams and touches of that exquisite humor which was the best +gift bestowed upon his mind. Brief as our notice is, we cannot refrain +from quoting in illustration of our remark a few sentences from a letter +to Thomas Moore, written in 1824:-- + +"I went a few evenings since to see Kenney's new piece, 'The Alcaid.' It +went off lamely, and the Alcaid is rather a bore, and comes near to be +generally thought so. Poor Kenney came to my room next evening, and +I could not have believed that one night could have ruined a man so +completely. I swear to you I thought at first it was a flimsy suit of +clothes had left some bedside and walked into my room without waiting +for the owner to get up, or that it was one of those frames on which +clothiers stretch coats at their shop-doors, until I perceived _a thin +face, sticking edgeways out of the collar of the coat like the axe in +a bundle of fasces._ He was so thin, and pale, and nervous, and +exhausted,--he made a dozen difficulties in getting over a spot in the +carpet, and never would have accomplished it, if he had not lifted +himself over by the points of his shirt-collar." + +The illustration we have Italicized is rather wit than humor; but be it +as it may, it is capital; and the whole paragraph has that quaint and +grotesque exaggeration which reminds us of the village-tailor in "The +Sketch-Book," "who played on the clarionet, and seemed to have blown his +face to a point," or of Mud Sam, who "knew all the fish in the river by +their Christian names." + +We think no one can read these volumes without having a higher +impression of Washington Irving as a man. There was no inconsistency +between the author and the man. The tenderness, the purity of feeling, +the sensibility, which gave his works an entrance into so many hearts, +had their source in his mind and character. It is a very truthful record +that we have before us. The delineation is that of a man certainly not +without touches of human infirmity, but as certainly largely endowed +with virtues as well as with gifts and graces. It is very evident that +it is a truthful biography, and that the hand of faithful affection has +found nothing to suppress or conceal. When we have laid down the book, +we feel that we know the man. And we can understand why it was that he +was so loved. Enemies, it seems, he had, or at least ill-wishers; since +we learn--and it is one of the indications of his soft and sensitive +nature--that he was seriously annoyed by a persecutor who persistently +inclosed and forwarded to him every scrap of unfavorable criticism he +could find in the newspapers: but the feeling that inspired this piece +of ill-nature must have been envy, and not hatred,--the bitterness which +is awakened in some unhappy tempers by the success which they cannot +themselves attain. No man less deserved to be hated than Irving, for no +man was less willing himself to give heart-room to hatred. + +We need hardly add that these volumes--of which the larger part is +by Irving himself--are very entertaining, and that we read them from +beginning to end with unflagging interest. Sketches of society and +manners, personal anecdotes, descriptions of scenery, buildings, and +works of art, give animation and variety to the narrative. The whole is +suffused with a golden glow of cheerfulness, the effluence of a nature +very happy, yet never needing the sting of riot or craving the flush of +excess, and finding its happiness in those pure fountains that refresh, +but not intoxicate. + +The close of the second volume brings us down to the year 1832, and his +cordial reception by his friends and countrymen after an absence of +seventeen years; so that more good things are in store for us. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 61, +November, 1862, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, NO. 61 *** + +***** This file should be named 11158.txt or 11158.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/5/11158/ + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11158.zip b/old/11158.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de9afeb --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11158.zip |