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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/11316-0.txt b/11316-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1560775 --- /dev/null +++ b/11316-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8848 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11316 *** + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. VIII.--SEPTEMBER, 1861.--NO. XLVII. + + + + + + + +THE SHAKESPEARE MYSTERY. + + +In 1853 there went up a jubilant cry from many voices upon the +publication of Mr. Collier's "Notes and Emendations to the Text of +Shakespeare's Plays from Early Manuscript Corrections," etc. "Now," it +was said, "doubt and controversy are at an end. The text is settled by +the weight of authority, and in accordance with common sense. We shall +enjoy our Shakespeare in peace and quiet." Hopeless ignorance of +Shakespeare-loving nature! The shout of rejoicing had hardly been +uttered before there arose a counter cry of warning and defiance from +a few resolute lips, which, swelling, mouth by mouth, as attention was +aroused and conviction strengthened, has overwhelmed the other, now sunk +into a feeble apologetic plea. The dispute upon the marginal readings in +this notorious volume, as to their intrinsic value and their pretence to +authority upon internal evidence, has ended in the rejection of nearly +all of the few which are known to be peculiar to it, and the conclusion +against any semblance of such authority. The investigation of the +external evidence of their genuineness, though it has not been quite so +satisfactory upon all points, has brought to light so many suspicious +circumstances connected with Mr. Collier's production of them before the +public, that they must be regarded as unsupported by the moral weight of +good faith in the only person who is responsible for them. + +Since our previous article upon this subject,[A] nothing has appeared +upon it in this country; but several important publications have +been made in London concerning it; and, in fact, this department of +Shakespearian literature threatens to usurp a special shelf in the +dramatic library. The British Museum has fairly entered the field, not +only in the persons of Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Maskelyne, but in that of +Sir Frederic Madden himself, the head of its Manuscript Department, and +one of the very first paleographers of the age; Mr. Collier has made a +formal reply; the Department of Public Records has spoken through Mr. +Duffus Hardy; the "Edinburgh Review" has taken up the controversy on one +side and "Fraser's Magazine" on the other; the London "Critic" has kept +up a galling fire on Mr. Collier, his folio, and his friends, to which +the "Athenaeum" has replied by an occasional shot, red-hot; the author +of "Literary Cookery," (said to be Mr. Arthur Edmund Brae,) a well-read, +ingenious, caustic, and remorseless writer, whose first book was +suppressed as libellous, has returned to the charge, and not less +effectively because more temperately; and finally an LL.D., Mansfield +Ingleby, of Trinity College, Cambridge, comes forward with a "Complete +View of the Controversy," which is manifestly meant for a complete +extinction of Mr. Collier. Dr. Ingleby's book is quite a good one of its +kind, and those who seek to know the history and see the grounds of this +famous and bitter controversy will find it very serviceable. It gives, +what it professes to give, a complete view of the whole subject from the +beginning, and treats most of the prominent points of it with care, and +generally with candor. Its view, however, is from the stand-point of +uncompromising hostility to Mr. Collier, and its spirit not unlike that +with which a man might set out to exterminate vermin.[B] + +[Footnote A: October, 1859. No. XXIV.] + +[Footnote B: We do not attribute the spirit of Dr. Ingleby's book to any +inherent malignity or deliberately malicious purpose of its author, but +rather to that relentless partisanship which this folio seems to have +excited among the British critics. So we regard his reference to +"almighty smash" and "catawampously chawed up" as specimens of the +language used in America, and his disparagement of the English in vogue +here, less as a manifestation of a desire to misrepresent, or even a +willingness to sneer, than as an amusing exhibition of utter ignorance. +In what part of America and from what lips did Dr. Ingleby ever hear +these phrases? We have never heard them; and in a somewhat varied +experience of American life have never been in any society, however +humble, in which they would not excite laughter, if not astonishment, +--astonishment even greater than that with which Americans of average +cultivation would read such phrases as these in a goodly octavo +published by a Doctor of the Laws of Cambridge University. "And one +ground upon which the hypothesis of Hamlet's insanity has been built is +'_swagged_.'" (_Complete View_, p. 82.) "The interests of literature +_jeopardized_, but not compromised." (_Ib_. p. 10.) "The rest of Mr. +Collier's remarks on the H.S. letter _relates_," etc. (_Ib_. p. 260.) +"_In_ the middle of this volume has been foisted." (_Ib_. p. 261.) We +shall not say that this is British English; but we willingly confess +that it is not American English. Such writing would not be tolerated in +the leading columns of any newspaper of reputation in this country; it +might creep in among the work of the second or third rate reporters.] + +And here we pause a moment to consider the temper in which this question +has been discussed among the British critics and editors. From the very +beginning, eight years ago, there have been manifestations of personal +animosity, indications of an eagerness to seize the opportunity of +venting long secreted venom. This has appeared as well in books as in +more ephemeral publications, and upon both sides, and even between +writers on the same side. On every hand there has been a most deplorable +impeachment of motive, accompanied by a detraction of character by +imputation which is quite shocking. Petty personal slights have been +insinuated as the ultimate cause of an expression of opinion upon an +important literary question, and testimony has been impeached and +judgment disparaged by covert allegations of disgraceful antecedent +conduct on the part of witnesses or critics. Indeed, at times there has +seemed reason to believe the London "Literary Gazette" (we quote from +memory) right in attributing this whole controversy to a quarrel which +has long existed in London, and which, having its origin in the alleged +abstraction of manuscripts from a Cambridge library by a Shakespearian +scholar, has made most of the British students of this department +of English letters more or less partisans on one side or the other. +Certainly the "Saturday Review" is correct, (in all but its English,) +when it says that in this controversy "a mere literary question and a +grave question of personal character are being awkwardly mixed together, +and neither question is being conducted in a style at all satisfactory +or creditable to literary men." + +Mr. Collier is told by Mr. Duffus Hardy that "he has no one to blame but +himself" for "the tone which has been adopted by those who differ from +him upon this matter," because he, (Mr. Collier,) by his answer in the +"Times" to Mr. Hamilton, made it "a personal, rather than a literary +question." But, we may ask, how is it possible for a man accused +of palming off a forgery upon the public to regard the question as +impersonal, even although it may not be alleged in specific terms that +he is the forger? Mr. Collier is like the frog in the fable. This +pelting with imputations of forgery may be very fine fun to the pelters, +but it is death to him. To them, indeed, it may be a mere question of +evidence and criticism; but to him it must, in any case, be one of vital +personal concern. Yet we cannot find any sufficient excuse for the +manner in which Mr. Collier has behaved in this affair from the very +beginning. His cause is damaged almost as much by his own conduct, and +by the tone of his defence, as by the attacks of his accusers. A very +strong argument against his complicity in any fraudulent proceeding +in relation to his folio might have been founded upon an untarnished +reputation, and a frank and manly attitude on his part; but, on the +contrary, his course has been such as to cast suspicion upon every +transaction with which he has been connected. + +First he says[C] that he bought this folio in 1849 to "complete another +poor copy of the seconde folio"; and in the next paragraph he adds, "As +it turned out, I at first repented my bargain, because when I took it +home, it appeared that two leaves which I wanted were unfit for my +purpose, not merely by being too short, but damaged and defaced." +And finally he says that it was not until the spring of 1850 that he +"observed some marks in the margin of this folio." Now did Mr. Collier, +by some mysterious instinct, light directly, first upon one of the +leaves, and then upon the other, which he wished to find, in a folio of +nine hundred pages? It is almost incredible that he did so once; that he +did so twice is quite beyond belief. It is equally incredible, that if +the textual changes were then upon the margins in the profusion in which +they now exist, he could have looked for the two leaves which he needed +without noticing and examining such a striking peculiarity. Clearly +those marginal readings must have been seen by Mr. Collier in his search +for the two leaves he needed, or they have been written since. Either +case is fatal to his reputation. His various accounts of his interviews +with Mr. Parry, who, it was thought, once owned the book, are +inconsistent with each other, and at variance with Mr. Parry's own +testimony, and the probabilities, not to say the possibilities, of the +case. He says, for instance, that he showed the folio to Mr. Parry; and +that Mr. Parry took it into his hand, examined it, and pronounced it the +volume he had once owned. But, on the contrary, Mr. Parry says that Mr. +Collier showed him no book; that he exhibited only fac-similes; that he +(Mr. Parry) was, on the occasion in question, unable to hold a book, as +his hands were occupied with two sticks, by the assistance of which he +was limping along the road. And on being shown Mr. Collier's folio at +the British Museum, Mr. Parry said that he never saw that volume before, +although he distinctly remembered the size and appearance of his own +folio; and the accuracy of his memory has been since entirely confirmed +by the discovery of a fly-leaf lost from his folio which conforms to +his description, and is of a notably different size and shape from the +leaves of the Collier folio.[D]--Mr. Collier has declared, in the most +positive and explicit manner, that he has "often gone over the thousands +of marks of all kinds" on the margins of his folio; and again, that he +has "reëxamined every fine and letter"; and finally, that, to enable +"those interested in such matters" to "see _the entire body _in the +shortest form," he "appended them to the present volume [_Seven +Lectures_, etc.] in one column," etc. This column he calls, too, "A +List of _Every Manuscript Note and Emendation_ in Mr. Collier's Copy of +Shakespeare's Works, folio, 1632." Now Mr. Hamilton, having gone over +the margins of "Hamlet" in the folio, finds that Mr. Collier's published +list "_does not contain one-half_ of the corrections, many of the most +significant being among those omitted." He sustains his allegation by +publishing the results of the collation of "Hamlet," to which we shall +hereafter refer more particularly, when we shall see that the reason of +Mr. Collier's suppression of so large a portion of these alterations and +additions was, that their publication would have made the condemnation +of his folio swift and certain. We have here a distinct statement of +the thing that is not, and a manifest and sufficient motive for the +deception. + +[Footnote C: Notes and Emendations, p. vii.] + +[Footnote D: This volume is universally spoken of as the Perkins folio +by the British critics. But we preserve the designation under which it +is so widely known in America.] + +It has also been discovered that Mr. Collier has misrepresented the +contents of the postscript of a letter from Mistress Alleyn to her +husband, Edward Alleyn, the eminent actor of Shakespeare's day. This +letter was first published by Mr. Collier in his "Memoirs of Edward +Alleyn" in 1841, where he represents the following broken passage as +part of it:-- + +"Aboute a weeke a goe there came a youthe who said he was Mr Frauncis +Chaloner who would have borrowed X'li. to have bought things for ... and +_said he was known unto you and Mr Shakespeare of the globe, who came +... said he knewe hym not, onely he herde of hym that he was a roge... +so he was glade we did not lend him the monney ... Richard Johnes [went] +to seeke_ and inquire after the fellow," etc. + +The paper on which this postscript is written is very much decayed, +and has been broken and torn away by the accidents of time; but enough +remains to show that the passage in question stands thus,--the letters +in brackets being obliterated:-- + +"Aboute a weeke agoe ther[e] [cam]e a youthe who said he was || Mr. +Frauncis Chalo[ner]s man [& wou]ld have borrow[e]d x's.--to || have +bought things for [hi]s Mri[s]..... [tru]st hym || Cominge wthout... +token.... d ||I would have.... || [i]f I bene sue[r] ..... || and +inquire after the fellow," etc. + +The parallels || in the above paragraph indicate the divisions of the +lines in the original manuscript; and a moment's examination will +convince the reader that the existence of those words of Mr. Collier's +version which we have printed in Italic letter in the place to which he +assigns them is a physical impossibility, as Mr. Hamilton has clearly +shown.[E] And that the mention of Shakespeare, and what he said, was not +on a part of the letter which has been broken away, is made certain by +the fortunate preservation of enough of the lower margin to show that no +such passage could have been written upon it. + +[Footnote E: _An Inquiry_, etc., pp. 86-89. See also Ingleby's _Complete +View_, etc., pp. 279-288. Both Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby give +fac-similes of this important postscript.] + +Mr. Collier has also been convicted by Mr. Dyce of positive and +malicious misrepresentation in various passages of the Prolegomena and +Notes to his last edition of Shakespeare. (London, 1858, 6 vols.) The +misrepresentations refer so purely to matters of textual criticism, +and the exhibition of even one of them would involve the quotation of +passages so uninteresting to the general reader, that we shall ask him +to be content with our assurance that these disgraceful attempts to +injure a literary opponent and former friend assume severally the form +of direct misstatement, suppression of the truth, prevarication, +and cunning perversion; the manner and motive throughout being very +shabby.[F] The purpose of all these attacks upon Mr. Dyce is not only to +wound and disparage him, but to secure for the writer a reputation for +superior sagacity and antiquarian learning; and we regret that we are +obliged to close this part of our paper by saying that we find that the +same motive has led Mr. Collier into similar courses during a great part +of his literary career. It has been necessary for us to examine all +that he has written upon Shakespeare, and we have again and again +found ourselves misled into giving him temporary credit for a point +established or a fact discovered, when in truth this credit was due +to Malone or Chalmers or some other Shakespearian scholar of the past +century, and was sought to be appropriated by Mr. Collier, not through +direct misstatement, but by such an ingenious wording and construction +of sentences as would accomplish the purpose without absolute falsehood. +An instance of this kind of manoeuvring is brought to light in +connection with the investigations into the discovery and character of a +paper known as "The Players' Petition," which was first made public by +Mr. Collier in his "Annals of the Stage," (Vol. i. p. 298,) and which +has been pronounced a forgery. Of this he says, in his "Reply to Mr. +Hamilton," (p. 59,) "Mr. Lemon, Senior, _undoubtedly did_ bring the +'Players' Petition' under my notice, and very much obliged I was," etc. +Now Mr. Collier, in the "Annals of the Stage," after extended remarks +upon the importance of the document, merely says, "This remarkable paper +has, perhaps, never seen the light from the moment it was presented, +until it was recently discovered." No direct assertion here that Mr. +Collier discovered it, but a leading of the reader to infer that he did; +and not a word about Mr. Lemon's agency, until, upon the suggestion of +that gentleman's son, it is serviceable to Mr. Collier to remember it. +By reference to Mr. Grant White's "Shakespeare," Vol. ii. p. lx., an +instance may be seen of a positive misstatement by Mr. Collier, of +which, whatever the motive or the manner, the result is to deprive +Chalmers of a microscopic particle of antiquarian credit and to +bestow it upon himself. In fact, our confidence in Mr. Collier's +trustworthiness, which, diminished by discoveries like these, as our +knowledge of his labors increased, has been quite extinguished under the +accumulated evidence of either his moral obliquity or his intellectual +incapacity for truth. We can now accept from him, merely upon his word, +no statement as true by which he has anything to gain. + +[Footnote F: See Dyce's _Strictures_, etc., pp. 2, 22, 28, 35, 51, 54, +56, 57, 58, 70, 123, 127, 146, 168, 192, 203, 204.] + +The bad effect of what he does is increased by the manner in which he +seeks to shield himself from the consequences of his acts. He should +have said at once, "Let this matter be investigated, and here am I to +aid in the investigation," Soon after this folio was brought into public +notice, Mr. Charles Knight proposed that it should be submitted to a +palaeographic examination by gentlemen of acknowledged competence; but +so far was Mr. Collier from yielding to this suggestion, that we have +good reason for saying that it was not until after the volume passed, in +1859, into the hands of Sir Frederic Madden of the British Museum, +that the more eminent Shakespearian scholars in London had even an +opportunity to look at it closely.[G] The attacks upon the genuineness +of the writing on its margins Mr. Collier was at once too ready to +regard as impeachments of his personal integrity, and to shirk by making +counter-insinuations against the integrity of his opponents and the +correctness of their motives. He attributes to the pettiest personal +spite or jealousy the steps which they have taken in discharge of a duty +to the interests of literature and the literary guild, and at the risk +of their professional reputations, and then slinks back from his charges +with,--"I have been told this, but I don't believe it: this may be so, +but yet it cannot be: I did something that Mr. So-and-so's father did +not like, yet I wouldn't for a moment insinuate," etc., etc.[H] Then, +Mr. Collier, why do you insinuate? And what in any case do you gain? +Suppose the men who deny the good faith of your marginalia are the +small-souled creatures you would have us believe they are, they do not +make this denial upon their personal responsibility merely; they produce +facts. Meet those; and do not go about to make one right out of two +wrongs. Cease, too, this crawling upon your belly before the images of +dukes and carls and lord chief-justices; digest speedily the wine and +biscuits which a gentleman has brought to you in his library, and let +them pass away out of your memory. Let us have no more such sneaking +sentences as, "I have always striven to make myself as unobjectionable +as I could"; but stand up like a man and speak like a man, if you have +aught to say that is worth saying; and your noble patrons, no less than +the world at large, will have more faith in you, and more respect for +you. + +[Footnote G: Such hasty examinations as those which it must have +received at the Society of Antiquaries and the Shakespeare Society, +where Mr. Collier took it, are of little importance.] + +[Footnote H: See, for instance, "I have been told, but I do not believe +it, that Sir F. Madden and his colleagues were irritated by this piece +of supposed neglect; and that they also took it ill that I presented the +Perkins folio to the kindest, most condescending, and most liberal of +noblemen, instead of giving it to their institution." (_Reply_, p. 11.) +And see the same pamphlet and Mr. Collier's letters, _passim_.] + +But what has been established by the examination of Mr. Collier's folio +and the manuscripts which he has brought to light? These very important +points:-- + +The folio contains more than twice, nearly three times, as many marginal +readings, including stage-directions and changes of orthography, as are +enumerated in Mr. Collier's "List of Every," etc. + +The margins retain in numerous places the traces of +pencil-memorandums.[I] + +[Footnote I: This is finally admitted even by Mr. Collier's supporters. +The Edinburgh Reviewer says,--"But then the mysterious pencil-marks! +They are there, most undoubtedly, and in very great numbers too. The +natural surprise that they were not earlier detected is somewhat +diminished on inspection. Some say they have 'come out' more in the +course of years; whether this is possible we know not. But even now they +are hard to discover, until the eye has become used to the search. But +when it has,--especially with the use of a glass at first,--they become +perceptible enough, words, ticks, points, and all."] + +These pencil-memorandums are in some instances written in a modern +cursive hand, to which marginal readings in ink, written in an antique +hand, correspond. + +There are some pencil-memorandums to which no corresponding change in +ink has been made; and one of these is in short-hand of a system which +did not come into use until 1774.[J] + +[Footnote J: In _Coriolanus_, Act v. sc. 2, (p. 55, col. 2, of the C. +folio,) "struggles or instead noise,"--plainly a memorandum for a +stage-direction in regard to the impending fracas between Menenius and +the Guard.] + +These pencil-memorandums in some instances underlie the words in ink +which correspond to them. + +Similar modern pencil-writing, underlying in like manner antique-seeming +words in ink, has been discovered in the Bridgewater folio, (Lord +Ellesmere's,) the manuscript readings in which Mr. Collier was the first +to bring into notice. + +Some of the pencilled memorandums in the folio of 1632 seem to be +unmistakably in the handwriting of Mr. Collier.[K] + +[Footnote K: Having at hand some of Mr. Collier's own writing in pencil, +we are dependent as to this point, in regard to the pencillings in +the folio, only upon the accuracy of the fac-similes published by Mr. +Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby, which correspond in character, though made by +different fac-similists.] + +Several manuscripts, professing to be contemporary with Shakespeare, and +containing passages of interest in regard to him, or to the dramatic +affairs of his time, have been pronounced spurious by the highest +palaeographic authorities in England, and in one of them (a letter +addressed to Henslow, and bearing Marston's signature) a pencilled guide +for the ink, like those above mentioned, has been discovered. These +manuscripts were made public by Mr. Collier, who professed to have +discovered them chiefly in the Bridgewater and Dulwich collections. + +In his professed reprint of one manuscript (Mrs. Alleyn's letter) Mr. +Collier has inserted several lines relating to Shakespeare which could +not possibly have formed a part of the passage which he professes to +reprint. + +In the above enumeration we have not included the many complete and +partial erasures upon the margins of Mr. Collier's folio; because these, +although they are inconsistent with the authoritative introduction of +the manuscript readings, do not affect the question of the good faith of +the person who introduced those readings, or serve as any indication of +the period at which he did his work. But it must be confessed that +the points enumerated present a very strong, and, when regarded by +themselves, an apparently incontrovertible case against Mr. Collier and +the genuineness of the folios and the manuscripts which he has brought +to light. Combined with the evidence of his untrustworthiness, they +compel, even from us who examine the question without prejudice, the +unwilling admission that there can be no longer any doubt that he has +been concerned in bringing to public notice, under the prestige of his +name, a mass of manuscript matter of seeming antiquity and authority +much of which at least is spurious. We say, without prejudice; for +it cannot be too constantly kept in mind that the question of the +genuineness of the manuscript readings in Mr. Collier's folio--that is, +of the good faith in which they were written--has absolutely nothing +whatever to do with that of their value or authority, at least in our +judgment. Six years before the appearance of Mr. Hamilton's first letter +impeaching their genuineness, we had expressed the decided opinion that +they were "entitled to no other consideration than is due to their +intrinsic excellence";[L] and this opinion is now shared even by the +authority which gave them at first the fullest and most uncompromising +support.[M] + +[Footnote L: See _Putnam's Magazine_, October, 1853, and _Shakespeare's +Scholar_, 1854, p. 74.] + +[Footnote M: See the London _Athenaeum_ of January 8th, 1853:--"We +cannot hesitate to infer that there must have been _something more than +mere conjecture_,--some authority from which they were derived.... The +consideration of the nine omitted lines stirs up Mr. Collier to a little +greater boldness on the question of authority; but, after all, we do not +think he goes the full length which the facts would warrant." + +Compare this with the following extracts from the same journal of July +9th, 1859;--"The folio never had any ascertained external authority. +All the warrant it has ever brought to reasonable critics is internal." +"If anybody, in the heat of argument, ever claimed for them [the MS. +readings] a right of acceptance beyond the emendations of Theobald, +Malone, Dyce, and Singer, (that is, a right not justified by their +obvious utility or beauty,) such a claim must have been untenable, by +whomsoever urged."] + +Other points sought to be established against Mr. Collier and the +genuineness of his manuscript authorities must be noticed in an article +which aims at the presentation of a comprehensive view of this subject. +These are based on certain variations between Mr. Collier's statements +as to the readings of his manuscript authorities and a certain supposed +"philological" proof of the modern origin of one of those authorities, +the folio of 1632. Upon all these points the case of Mr. Collier's +accusers breaks down. It is found, for instance, that in the folio an +interpolated line in "Coriolanus," Act iii. sc. 2, reads,-- + +"To brook _controul_ without the use of anger," + +and that so Mr. Collier gave it in both editions of his "Notes and +Emendations," in his fac-similes made for private distribution, in his +vile one-volume Shakespeare, and in the "List," etc., appended to the +"Seven Lectures." But in his new edition of Shakespeare's Works (6 vols. +1858) he gives it,-- + +"To brook _reproof_ without the use of anger," + +and hereupon Dr. Ingleby asks,--"Is it not possible that here Mr. +Collier's remarkable memory is too retentive, and that, though second +thoughts may be best, first thoughts are sometimes inconveniently +remembered to the prejudice of the second?"[N] Here we see a palpable +slip of memory or of the pen, by which an old man substituted one word +for another of similar import, as many a younger man has done before +him, tortured into evidence of forgery. Such an objection is worthy of +notice only as an example of the carping, unjudicial spirit in which +this subject is treated by some of the British critics. + +[Footnote N: _The Shakespeare Fabrications_, p. 45.] + +Mr. Collier is accused at least of "inaccuracy" and "ignorance" on +account of some of these variations. Thus, in Mrs. Alleyn's Letter, she +says that a boy "would have borrowed x's." (ten shillings); and this Mr. +Collier reads "would have borrowed x'li." (ten pounds). Whereupon Mr. +Duffus Hardy, Assistant Keeper of the Public Records, produces this as +one of "the most striking" of Mr. Collier's inaccuracies in regard to +this letter, and says that it "certainly betrays no little ignorance, +as 10_l_. in those days would have equalled about 60_l_. of our present +money." "A strange youth," he adds, "calls on Mrs. Alleyn and asks the +loan of 10_l_. as coolly as he would ask for as many pence!" Let us +measure the extent of the ignorance shown by this inaccuracy, and +estimate its significance by a high standard. In one of the documents +which Mr. Collier has brought forward--an account by Sir Arthur +Mainwayring, auditor to Sir Thomas Egerton, in James I.'s reign, which +is pronounced to be a forgery, and which probably is one--is an entry +which mentions the performance of "Othello" in 1602. The second part of +this entry is,[O]-- + + "Rewards; to m'r. Lyllyes man w'ch } + brought y'e lotterye boxe to } + x's. Harefield: p m'r. Andr. Leigh." } + +[Footnote O: See the fac-simile in Dr. Ingleby's _Complete View_. p. +262.] + +Mr. Lyllye's man got ten shillings, then, for his job,--very princely +pay in those days. But Mr. Hardy[P] prints this entry,--"Rewarde to Mr. +Lillye's man, which brought the lotterye box to Harefield x'li."--ten +_pounds_!--the same sum that Mr. Collier made Mr. Chaloner's boy ask +of Mrs. Alleyn. In other words, according to Mr. Hardy, Sir Arthur +Mainwayring gave a serving-man, for carrying a box, ten pounds as coolly +as he would have given as many pence! Now, Mr. Hardy, "as 10_l_. in +those days would have equalled about 60_l_. of our present money," on +your honor and your palaeographical reputation, does it betray "no +little ignorance" to mistake, or, if you please, to misprint, 10's. for +ten 10'li.? If no, so much the better for poor Mr. Collier; but if ay, +is not the Department of Public Records likely to come to grief?[Q] + +[Footnote P: _A Review_, etc., p. 60.] + +[Footnote Q: We could point out numerous other similar failures and +errors in the publications in which Mr. Collier is attacked; but we +cannot spare time or space for these petty side-issues.] + +A very strong point has been made upon the alteration of "so eloquent as +a _chair_" to "so eloquent as a _cheer_" in Mr. Collier's folio. It is +maintained by Mr. Arthur Edmund Brae, and by Dr. Ingleby, that "cheer" +as a shout of "admirative applause" did not come into use until +the latter part of the last century. This is the much vaunted +philologico-chronological proof that the manuscript readings in that +folio are of very recent origin. Dr. Ingleby devotes twenty pages to +this single topic. Never was labor more entirely wasted. For the +result of it all is the establishment of these facts in regard to +"cheer":--that shouts of encouragement and applause were called "cheers" +as early, at least, as 1675, and that in the middle of the century +1500, if not before, "to cheer" meant to utter an audible expression of +applause. The first appears from the frequent use of the noun in the +Diary of Henry Teonge, a British Navy Chaplain, dated 1675-1679, by +which it appears that "three cheers" were given then, just as they are +now; the second, from a passage in Phaer's Translation of the "Aeneid," +published in 1558, in which "_Excipiunt plausu pavidos_" is rendered +"The Trojans them did _chere_." And now will it be believed that +an LL.D. of Trinity College, Cambridge, and a professed student of +Shakespeare, seeks to avoid the force of these facts by pleading, that, +although Teonge speaks of "three cheers," it does not follow that there +was such a thing known in his day as a cheer; that "three cheers" was +a recognized phrase for a certain naval salute; and that "to confound +_three cheers_ with _a cheer_ would be as ignorant a proceeding as +to confound the phrases 'manning the yards' and 'manning a +yard'"?--Exactly, Dr. Ingleby,--just as ignorant; but three times one +are three; and when one yard is manned the sailors have manned a yard, +and while they are a-doing it they are manning a yard. What did the +people call one-third of their salute in 1675? And are we to suppose +that they were never led to give "one more" cheer, as they do nowadays? +And have the LL.D.s of Cambridge--old Cambridge--yet to learn that the +compound always implies the preëxistence of the simple, and that "a +cheer" is, by logical necessity, the antecedent of "three cheers"? +Can they fail to see, too, as "cheer" meant originally face, then +countenance, then comfort, encouragement, that, before it could be used +as a verb to mean the _expression_ of applause, it must have previously +been used as a noun to mean applause? And finally, has an intelligent +and learned student of Shakespeare read him so imperceptively as not to +know, that, if "cheer," or any other word, had been used in his time +only as a verb, he would not have hesitated a moment about using it as a +noun, if it suited his purpose to do so? That the original text in the +passage in question, "so eloquent as a chair," is correct, we have no +doubt; but the attempt to make the introduction of "cheer" into Mr. +Collier's folio a chronological test of the good faith of its MS. +readings has failed entirely. + +But Mr. Collier's accusers fall short of their aim upon other and no +less important points. It seems more than doubtful that the spuriousness +of all the marginal readings in the notorious folio and all the +documents brought forward by Mr. Collier has been established. Under +ordinary circumstances, when palaeographers like Sir Frederic Madden, +Sir Francis Palgrave, and Mr. Duffus Hardy, tell us that a manuscript, +professing to be ancient and original, is a modern fabrication, we +submit at once. A judgment pronounced by such experts commands the +unquestioning deference of laymen; unless, indeed, the doctors differ; +and then the humblest and most ignorant of us all must endeavor +to decide between them. And when a court, under extraordinary +circumstances,--and those of the present case are very extraordinary,-- +not only pronounces judgment, but feels compelled to assign the reasons +for that judgment, thinking men who are interested in the question under +consideration will examine the evidence and weigh the arguments for +themselves. + +In the present case reasons have been given by Sir Frederic Madden, Mr. +Hardy, and Dr. Ingleby, the chief-justice and two puisne judges of our +court. The first says, (in his letter of March 24th, 1860, to the London +"Critic,") that, on examining the folio with Mr. Bond, the Assistant +Keeper of his Department, they were both "struck with the very +suspicious character of the writing,"--certainly the work of one hand, +but presenting varieties of forms assignable to different periods,--the +evident painting of the letters, and the artificial look of the ink. + +Mr. Hardy speaks more explicitly to the same purpose; and we must quote +him at some length. He says,-- + +"The handwriting of the notes and alterations in the Devonshire folio +[Mr. Collier's] is of a mixed character, varying even in the same page, +from the stiff, labored Gothic hand of the sixteenth century to the +round text-hand of the nineteenth, a fact most perceptible in the +capital letters. It bears unequivocal marks also of laborious imitation +throughout. + +"In their broader characteristics, the features of the handwriting of +this country, from the time of the Reformation, may be arranged under +four epochs, sufficiently distinct to elucidate our argument:-- + +"1. The stiff upright Gothic of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. + +"2. The same, inclining and less stiff, as a greater amount of +correspondence demanded an easier style of writing, under Elizabeth. + +"3. The cursive, based on an Italian model, (the Gothic becoming more +flexible and now rapidly disappearing,) in the reign of James I., and +continuing in use for about a century. + +"4. The round hand of the schoolmaster, under the House of Hanover, +degenerating into the careless, half-formed hands of the present day. + +"Now it is perfectly possible that any two of these hands in succession +may have been practised by the same person.... That the first and third +or the second and fourth should be coexistent is very improbable. That +all, or that the first, second, and fourth, should be found together, as +belonging to one and the same era, we hold to be utterly impossible. + +"Yet this is a difficulty that Mr. Collier has to explain; as the +handwritings of the MS. corrections in the Devonshire folio, including +those in pencil, vary as already said, from the stiff, upright, +labored, and earlier Gothic, to the round text-hand of the nineteenth +century."[R] + +[Footnote R: A _Review_, etc., pp. 6, 7.] + +On this point Dr. Ingleby says, succinctly and decidedly, "The primal +evidence of the forgery lies in the ink writing, and in that alone";[S] +but he expressly bases this dictum upon the decisions of the professed +palaeographers of the British Museum and the Record Office. He goes on, +however, to assign important collateral proof of the forgery, both of +the readings in the folio and the documents brought forward by Mr. +Collier, by connecting them with each other. Thus he says, that whoever +will compare the fac-similes of the document known as "The Certificate +of the Blackfriars Players" with those which he gives of two passages in +the folio "will surely entertain no doubt that one hand wrote both."[T] +He expresses also the same confidence that "there can be but one +intelligent opinion" that another important document, known as "The +Blackfriars Petition," was, as Mr. Hamilton believes, "executed by the +same hand" as that to which we owe the Certificate, and, consequently, +the folio readings.[U] Again, with regard to another of these documents, +known as "The Daborne Warrant," Dr. Ingleby says,--"Mr. Hamilton +remarks, what must be plain to every one who compares the fac-simile +of the Daborne Warrant with those of the manuscript emendations in the +Perkins folio, that the same hand wrote both. In particular the +letters E, S, J, and C are formed in the same peculiar pseudo-antique +manner."[V] And finally, Mr. Hamilton decides, and Dr. Ingleby concurs +with him, that a certain List of Players appended to a letter from the +Council to the Lord Mayor, in which Shakespeare's name stands third, is +"done by the same hand" which produced the professed contemporary copy +of a letter signed H.S. about Burbage and Shakespeare, supposed to be +from the Earl of Southampton. Giving his reason for this opinion, Dr. +Ingleby says,--"Among other similarities in the forms of the letters +to those characterizing the H.S. letter, is the very remarkable _g_ in +'Hemminges'."[W] + +[Footnote S: A _Complete View_, p. 114.] + +[Footnote T: _Ib._ p. 250.] + +[Footnote U: _Ib._ p. 293.] + +[Footnote V: _Ib._ p. 256.] + +[Footnote W: _Ib._ p. 271.] + +Let us examine the alleged grounds of these decisions,--"the varieties +of forms assignable to different periods," and the extension of those +varieties "from the stiff, labored Gothic hand of the sixteenth century +to the round-text hand of the nineteenth." This judgment is passed upon +_all_ the writing on the margins of the folio, including the pencil +memorandums. For the present we shall set aside the latter,--the pencil +memorandums,--as not properly belonging to this branch of the subject. +For this pencil writing, although it has a most important bearing +upon the question of the good faith of the marginal readings, has no +professed character, antique or modern: it is, of course, not set forth +directly or indirectly, either by the unknown writer of the marginalia, +or by Mr. Collier, as evidence of the date at which they were made. And +as, according to Dr. Ingleby, "the primal evidence of the forgery lies +in the ink writing, and in that alone," with that alone we shall at +present concern ourselves. As the careless, half-formed hand of the +present day, degenerate from "the round hand of the school-master," +appears only in the pencil writing, we have therefore to deal but with +the first three styles of writing enumerated by Mr. Hardy; and as he +himself admits that "it is perfectly possible that any two of these +hands in succession may have been practised by the same person," if +those who maintain the side of forgery fail to show that "the stiff +upright Gothic of Henry VIII. and Edward VI." appears upon the margins +of this folio, we shall only have the second and third styles enumerated +by Mr. Hardy, i.e., the hands of Elizabeth and James I., to take into +consideration; and the so-called "primal evidence of the forgery," in +the "varieties of forms assignable to different periods," falls to the +ground. + +Now it is most remarkable, that, among all the numerous fac-similes +of the writing in this volume which have been published either by Mr. +Collier himself, or by his opponents, with the very purpose of proving +the forgery, not a word or a letter has appeared in a hand which was not +in common use from the latest years of Elizabeth's reign, through James +I.'s and Charles I.'s, down through the Commonwealth to and well past +the time of the Restoration,--a period, be it remembered, of only +between fifty and seventy-five years. We are prepared to show, upon +the backs of title-pages and upon the margins of various books printed +between 1580 and 1660, and in copy-books published and miscellaneous +documents dated between 1650 and 1675, writing as ancient in all its +characteristics as any that has been fac-similed and published with the +purpose of invalidating the genuineness of the marginal readings of Mr. +Collier's folio. + +We are also prepared to show that the lack of homogeneousness (aside +from the question of period or fashion) and the striking and various +appearance of the ink even on a single page, which have been relied upon +as strong points against the genuineness of the marginal readings, are +matters of little moment, because they are not evidence either of an +assumed hand or of simulated antiquity; and even further, that the fact +that certain of the pencilled words are in a much more modern-seeming +hand than the words in ink which overlie them is of equally small +importance in the consideration of this question. Our means of +comparison in regard to the folio are limited, indeed, but they are none +the less sufficient; for we may be sure that Mr. Collier's opponents, +who have followed his tracks page by page with microscopes and chemical +tests, who hang their case upon pot-hooks and trammels, and lash +themselves into palaeographic fury with the tails of remarkable _g_-s, +have certainly made public the strongest evidence against him that they +could discover. + +Among many old books, defaced after the fashion of old times with +writing upon their blank leaves and spaces, in the possession of the +present writer, is a copy of the second edition of Bartholomew Young's +translation of Guazzo's "Civile Conversation," London, 4to., 1586. This +volume was published without that running marginal abstract of the +contents which is so common upon the books of its period. This omission +an early possessor undertook to supply; and in doing so he left evidence +which forbids us to accept all the conclusions as to the Collier folio +and manuscripts which the British palaeographists draw from the premises +which they set forth. Upon the very first page of the Preface he writes, +in explanation of the phrase "hee which fired the temple of Diana," the +name "_Erostrato_" in a manner which brings to mind one point strongly +made by Dr. Ingleby against the genuineness of a Ralegh letter brought +forward by Mr. Collier, as well as of the manuscript readings in the two +folio Shakespeares, which he also brought to light. Dr. Ingleby says, +"I have given a copy of Mr. Collier's fac-simile in sheet No. II., +and alongside of that I have placed the impossible E in the Ralegh +signature, and the almost exactly similar E which occurs in the +emendation _End, vice_ 'And,' in the Bridgewater Folio. By means of this +monstrous letter we are enabled to trace the chain of forgery from the +Perkins Folio through the Bridgewater Folio, to the perpetration of the +abomination at the foot of the Ralegh letter."[X] + +[Footnote X: _Complete View_, p. 309.] + +Below we give fac-similes of six E-s. No. I is from the margin of the +first page of the Preface to Guazzo, mentioned above; No. 2 from the +third, and No. 3 from the fifth page of the same Preface; No. 4 from +fol. 27 _b_ of the body of the work; No. 5 is the "monstrous letter" +of the Bridgewater folio; and No. 6 the "impossible E" of the Ralegh +signature. + +[Illustration] + +Now how monstrous the last two letters are is a matter of taste,--how +impossible, a matter of knowledge; but we submit that any man with a +passable degree of either taste or knowledge is able to decide, and +will decide that No. 6 is not more impossible than No. 1, or No. 4 more +monstrous than No. 2; while in Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4, there is exhibited a +variation in the form of capital letters, instances of which Dr. Ingleby +intimates it is impossible to find in genuine handwriting, and the +existence of which in the Collier folio Mr. Hamilton sets forth as one +reason for invalidating the good faith of its marginal readings.[Y] + +[Footnote Y: Inquiry, p. 23.] + +But our copy of Guazzo is of further use to us in the examination of +this subject. It exhibits, within less than one hundred folios of +marginal annotations, almost all the characteristics (except, be it +remembered, those of the pencil writing) which are relied upon as proofs +of the forgery of the marginalia of Mr. Collier's folio. The writing +varies from a cursive hand which might almost have been written at the +present day to (in Mr. Duffus Hardy's phrase) "the cursive based on an +Italian model,"--that is, the "sweet Roman hand" which the Countess +Olivia wrote, as became a young woman of fashion when "Twelfth Night" +was produced; and from this again to the modified chancery hand which +was in such common use in the first half of the century 1600, and again +to a cramped and contracted chirography almost illegible, which went out +of general use in the last years of Elizabeth and the first of James I. +All these varieties of handwriting, except the last, were in use from +1600 to the Restoration. They will be found in the second edition of +Richard Gethinge's "Calligraphotechnia, or The Arte of Faire Writing, +1652." This, in spite of its sounding name, is nothing more than a +writing-master's copper-plate copy-book; and its republication in +1652, with these various styles of chirography, is important accessory +evidence in the present case.[Z] + +[Footnote Z: Lowndes mentions no other edition than that of 1652; and +Mr. Bohn in his new edition of the Bibliographer has merely repeated the +original in this respect. But if Lowndes had seen only the edition of +1652, he might have found in it evidence of the date of the publication +of the book. It is dedicated to "Sir Francis Bacon Knight, his Ma'ties +Attorney Generall"; and as Bacon was made Attorney General in 1613 and +Lord Keeper in 1617, the book must have been published between those +dates; and one of the plates, the 18th, is dated "Anno 1615," and +another, the 24th, "1616."] + +But to return to the margins of our Guazzo, from five pages of which we +here give fac-similes. + +[Illustration] + +The writer of the annotations began his work in that clear Italian hand +which came into vogue in the reign of James I., (see, for instance, +Gethinge, Plates 18 to 28,) of which fac-simile No. 1, "_Experience of +father_" is an example. In the course of the first few pages, however, +his chirography, on the one hand, shows traces of the old English +chancery-hand, and, on the other, degenerates into a careless, cursive, +modern-seeming style, of which fac-simile No. 2, "_England_," is a +striking instance. But he soon corrects himself, and writes for twenty +folios (to the recto of folio 27) with more or less care in his clear +Roman hand. Thence he begins to return rapidly, but by perceptible +degrees, to the old hand, until, on the recto of folio 31, and a page +or two before it, he writes, illegibly to most modern eyes, as in +fac-simile No. 3, "_a proverbe_." Thereafter, except upon certain rare +and isolated occasions, he never returns to his Italian hand, but +becomes more and more antique in his style, so that on folio 65, and for +ten folios before and after, we have such writing as that of fac-simile +No. 4, "_strangers where they come change the speech there used_." On +folios 93 to 95 we find characters like those given in fac-simile No. 5, +which it requires more experience than ours in record-reading entirely +to decipher. On the reverse of folio 95 the annotator, apparently weary +of his task, stayed his hand. + +Now in these ninety-nine folios (including the Preface, which is not +numbered) are not only all the five varieties of chirography fac-similed +above, but others partaking the character of some two of these, and +all manifestly written by the same hand; which is shown no less by the +phraseology than by the chirographic traits common to all the notes. And +besides, not a few of these notes, which fill the margins, are in +Latin, and these Latin notes are always written in the Italian hand of +fac-simile No. 1; so that we find that hand, in which all the notes, +English and Latin, (with a few exceptions, like "_England_,") are +written for the first twenty-seven folios, afterward in juxtaposition +with each of the other hands. For instance, on folio 87, recto, we find +"_tolerare laborem propter virtutem quis vult si praemia desunt_," +written in the style of "_Experience_" No. 1 above, though not so +carefully, and immediately beneath it, manifestly with the same pen, and +it would seem with the same pen-full of ink, "the saying of Galen," in +the style of No. 4, "_strangers where they come_," etc. + +The ink, too, in which these notes are written illustrates the shifts to +which our ancestors were put when writing-materials were not made and +bought by the quantity, as they are now,--a fact which bears against +a not yet well-established point made by Mr. Maskelyne of the British +Museum against Mr. Collier's marginalia. This writing exhibits every +possible variety of tint and of shade, and also of consistence and +composition, that ink called black could show. As far as the recto of +folio 12 it has the look of black ink slightly faded. On the reverse of +that folio it suddenly assumes a pale gray tint, which it preserves to +the recto of folio 20. There it becomes of a very dark rich brown, so +smooth in surface as almost to have a lustre, but in the course of a few +folios it changes to a pale tawny tint; again back to black, again +to gray, again to a fine clear black that might have been written +yesterday, and again to the pale tawny, with which it ends. It is also +worthy of notice, that, where this ink has the dark rich brown hue, it +also seems, in the words of Professor Maskelyne, in his letter to the +London "Times," dated July 13, 1859, to be "on rather than in the +paper"; and it also proved in this instance, to use the phraseology of +the same letter, to be "removable, with the exception of a slight stain, +by mere water." But who will draw hence the conclusion of the Professor +with regard to the fluid used on the Collier folio, that it is "a +water-color paint rather than ink,"--unless "ink" is used in a mere +technical sense, to mean only a compound of nutgalls and sulphate of +iron?[aa] + +[Footnote aa: The effect produced upon the brown ink on the margins of +the Guazzo by the mere washing it for a few seconds with lint and warm +water may be seen in the word "_apollegy_" on folio 25, reverse, of that +volume, which, with the others noticed in this article, will be left +for inspection at the Astor Library, in the care of Dr. Cogswell, for a +fortnight after the publication of this number of the _Atlantic_. This +slight ablution, hardly more effective than the rubbing of a child's wet +finger, leaves only a pale yellow stain upon the paper.] + +Now it should be observed, that, among all the fac-similes published of +the marginal readings in Mr. Collier's folio, there are none either +so modern or so antique in their character as the five fac-similes +respectively given above; nor is there in the former a variation of +style approaching that exhibited in the latter, which all surely +represent the work of one hand. Neither do the fac-similes of the folio +corrections exhibit any chirography more ancient, more "Gothic," than +that of the account a specimen of which was published in our previous +article upon this subject,[bb] and which could not have been written +before 1656, and was quite surely not written until ten years later. + +[Footnote bb: See the _Atlantic_ for October, 1859, p. 516.] + + * * * * * + +We have thus far left out of consideration the faint pencil-memorandums +which play so important a part in the history of Mr. Collier's folio. +We now examine one of their bearings upon the question at issue. Is it +possible that they, or any considerable proportion of them, may be +the traces of pencil-marks made in the century 1600? The very great +importance of this question need not be pointed out. It was first +indicated in this magazine in October, 1859. Mr. Collier has seen it, +and, not speaking with certainty as to the use of plumbago pencils at +that period, he says,--"But if it be true that pencils of plumbago were +at that time in common use, as I believe they were, the old corrector +may himself have now and then adopted this mode of recording on the +spot changes which, in his judgment, ought hereafter [thereafter?] +permanently to be made in Shakespeare's text."[cc] + +[Footnote cc: _Reply_, p. 20.] + +Another volume in the possession of the present writer affords +satisfactory evidence that these pencil-marks may be memorandums made in +the latter half of the century 1600. It is a copy of "The Historie of +the Life and Death of Mary Stuart Queene of Scotland," London, 1636,--a +small, narrow duodecimo, in the original binding. Upon the first one +hundred and sixty-nine pages of this volume, within the ruled margin so +common in old books, are annotations, very brief and sparse, rarely +more than two upon a page, and often not more than one, and consisting +sometimes of only two or three abbreviated words,--all evidently written +in haste, and all entirely without interest. These annotations, or, +rather, memorandums, like those in the Guazzo, explain or illustrate the +text. At the top of the page, within the margin-rules, the annotator has +written the year during which the events there related took place; and +he has also paged the Preface. Now of these annotations _about one half +are in pencil_, the numbering entirely so, with a single exception. This +pencil-writing is manifestly the product of a period within twenty-five +or thirty years of the date of the printing of the book, and yet it +presents apparent variations in style which are especially noteworthy in +connection with our present subject. Some of this pencil-writing is +as clear as if it were freshly written; but the greater part is much +rubbed, apparently by the mere service that the volume has seen; and +some of it is so faint as to be legible only in a high, reflected light, +in which, however, to sharp eyes it becomes distinctly visible.[dd] That +ordinary black pencil-marks will endure on paper for two centuries +may very likely be doubted by many readers, but without reason. +Plumbago-marks, if not removed by rubbing, are even more durable than +ink; because plumbago is an organic, insoluble substance, not subject +to the chemical changes which moisture, the atmosphere, and fluids +accidentally spilled, and solvents purposely applied, make in the +various kinds of ink which are known to us. The writer discovered this +in the course of many amateur print- and book-cleaning experiments, and +has since found his experience confirmed by the high authority of M. +Bonnardot, in his "Essai sur l'Art de Restaurer les Estampes et les +Livres." Paris, 1858.[ee] Of the annotations in the "History of Queen +Mary," many are in a strange short-hand, in which various combinations +of simple angles, triangles, circles, semicircles, and straight lines +play a conspicuous part, which we find, upon examination, is not written +according to any system promulgated since the middle of the last +century. Our present concern is, however, only with the writing which +is in the ordinary letter, and in pencil. Of this there follow three +specimen fac-similes, including the figures indicating the Anno Domini +at the top of the page from which the words are taken. Three of the +figures (4, 7, 8) by which the Preface is paged are also added.[ff] + +[Footnote dd: Some of our readers may be glad to know that writing so +faint as to be indistinguishable even in a bright open light may be +often read in the shadow with that very light reflected upon it, as, for +instance, from the opposite page of a book.] + +[Footnote ee: Mr. Bonnardot says:--"_Taches des crayons._ (_Plombagine, +sanguine, crayon noir_, etc.) Les traces _récentes_ que laissent sur le +papier ces divers crayons s'effacent au contact du caoutchouc, ou de la +mie de pain; mais, _quand elles sont trop anciennes, elles résistent à +ces moyens;_ on a recours alors à l'application du savon, etc., etc. +On frotte, etc., etc. S'il restait, après cette opération, des traces +opiniâtres sur le papier, _il faudrait désespérer les enlever_." p. 81.] + +[Footnote ff: By a common mistake, easily understood, the fac-similes +have been put upon the block in reverse order. The lines between the +words represent the coarse column-rules of the margins. (Illustration)] + +Of these, No. 1 ("_ffer Ph: 2_") explains that "the Emperour & the King +of Spaine" of the text are Ferdinand and Philip II.; No. 2 ("_ffr: 2 +death_") directs attention to the mention of the decease of Francis II. +of France; and No. 3 ("_Dudley Q Eliz great favorite_") is apropos of +a supposition by the author of the History that the Virgin Queen "had +assigned Dudley for her own husband." Of the pencil-writing fac-similed +above, the "1559" and the "_e_" in No. 1 and the "_Dudley_" in No. 8 are +so faint as to be almost indistinguishable; the rest of it, though very +much rubbed, is plain enough to those who have good eyes. As to the +period when these annotations were written, there can be no doubt that +it was between 1636 and the end of the third quarter of that century; +yet the difference between Nos. 1 and 2 and the last line of No. 8 is +very noticeable. There are many other words in pencil in the same volume +quite as modern-looking as "_favorite_" in No. 3. Does not this make it +clear that the pencil-writing on the margins of Mr. Collier's folio, the +greater part of which is so indistinct that to most eyes it is illegible +without the aid of a magnifying-glass, and of which not a few of the +most legible words are incomplete, may be the pencil-memorandums of a +man who entered these marginal readings in the century 1600? Who shall +undertake to say that pencil-writing so faint as to have its very +existence disputed, and which is written over so as to be partially +concealed, possesses a decided modern character, when such writing +as that of "_favorite_" above exists, both in pencil and in ink, the +production of which between 1636 and 1675 it would be the merest folly +to question? The possibility of the readings having been first entered +in pencil need not be discussed. It is not only probable that they would +be so entered, but that would be the method naturally adopted by a +corrector of any prudence, who had not an authoritative copy before him; +and that this corrector had such aid not one now pretends to believe. We +shall also find, farther on, that pencil-memorandums or guides, the good +faith of which no one pretends to gainsay, were used upon this volume. A +similar use of pencil is common enough nowadays. We know some writers, +who, when correcting their own proofs, always go over them with pencil +first, and on a second reading make the corrections, often with material +changes, in ink over the pencil-marks. Even letters are, or rather were, +written in this manner by young people in remote rural districts, where +an equal scarcity of money and paper made an economy of the latter +necessary,--a fact which would have a bearing upon the pencilled Marston +letter, but for one circumstance to be noticed hereafter. + +But one point, and that apparently the strongest, made against another +of Mr. Collier's MSS., we are able to set aside entirely. It is that +alleged identity of origin between the List of Players appended to the +letter from the Council to the Lord Mayor of London and the well-known +"Southampton" letter signed H.S., which is based upon an imagined +general similarity of hand and a positive identity of form in a certain +"very remarkable _g_" which is found in both.[gg] The general similarity +seems to us sheerly imaginary; but the _g_ common to the two documents +is undoubtedly somewhat unusual in form. That it is not peculiar to the +documents in question, however, whether they were written by one hand or +two, we happen to be in a position to show. _Ecce signum!_ + +[Footnote gg: See above, p. 266.] + +[Illustration] + +No. 1 of the above fac-similes is the _g_ of the H.S. letter, No. 2 the +_g_ of the List of Players, and in the name below is a _g_ of exactly +the same model. This name is written upon the last page of "The Table" +of a copy of Guevara's "Chronicle conteyning the lives of tenne +Emperours of Rome," translated by Edward Hellowes, London, 1577. This +book is bound up in ancient binding with copies of the "Familiar +Epistles" of the same writer, Englished by the same translator, 1582, +and of his "Familiar Epistles," translated by Geffrey Fenton, 1582. +The volume is defaced by little writing besides the names of three +possessors whose hands it passed through piecemeal or as a whole; but it +is remarkable, that, while one possessor has written on the first title +in ink the price which he paid for it, "_pr. 2s. 6d._," in a handwriting +like that of "_proverbe_" in the third fac-simile from Guazzo, on p. 268 +above, another has recorded _in pencil_ on the next leaf the amount it +cost him, "pr: 5s.," in a hand of perhaps somewhat later date, more in +the style of the fac-similes from the "Life of Queen Mary," on p. 271. +This pencil memorandum is very plain.[hh] It is worthy of special note +also, that one of the owners of this volume, a Simon Holdip, writes on +the last page of the "Lives of the Ten Emperors," the last in order +of binding, "_per me Simone Holdip in te domine speravi_" in the old +so-called chancery-hand, while on the first page of the Dedication +of the "Familiar Epistles," the first in order of binding, he writes +"_Simon Holdip est verus possessor hujus libri_," in as fair an Italian +hand as Richard Gethinge or the Countess Olivia herself could show. This +evidence of property a subsequent owner has stricken through many times +with his pen. In this volume we not only find the "remarkable _g_," the +tail of which is relied upon as a link in the chain of evidence to prove +the forgery of two documents, but yet another instance of the use of +dissimilar styles of writing by the same individual two hundred or two +hundred and fifty years ago, and also a well-preserved pencil memorandum +of the same period.[ii] But we have by no means disposed of all of this +question as to the pencil-writing, and we shall revert to it. + +[Footnote hh: It probably records the price paid by the buyer of the +whole volume at second-hand in the first part of the century 1600. +The first memorandum is quite surely the price paid for the _Familiar +Epistles_ alone; for on the binding of the three books into one volume, +which took place at an early date, the tops of the capital letters of +this possessor's name were slightly cut down.] + +[Footnote ii: Similar evidence must abound; and perhaps there is more +even within the reach of the writer of this article. For he has made +no particular search for it; but merely, after reading Dr. Ingleby's +_Complete View_, looked somewhat hastily through those of his old books +which, according to his recollection, contained old writing,--which, by +the way, has always recommended an antique volume to his attention.] + +That the writing of the "Certificate of the Blackfriars Players," the +"Blackfriars Petition," and the marginal readings in Mr. Collier's folio +shows that they are by the same hand we cannot see. Their chirography is +alike, it is true, but it is not the same. Such likeness is often to +be seen. The capital letters are formed on different models; and the +variation in the _f-s, s-s, d-s_, and _y-s_ is very noticeable. + + * * * * * + +We now turn to another, and, to say the least, not inferior department +of the evidence in this complicated case. Mr. Hamilton has done yeoman's +service by his collation and publication of all the manuscript readings +found on the margins of "Hamlet" in Mr. Collier's folio. It is by far +the most important part of his "Inquiry." It fixes indelibly the stigma +of entire untrustworthiness upon Mr. Collier, by showing, that, when he +professed, after many examinations, to give a list of all the marginal +readings in that folio, he did not, in this play at least, give much +more than one-third of them, and that some of those which he omitted +were even more striking than those which he published. We must be as +brief as possible; and we shall therefore bring forward but one example +of these multitudinous sins against truth; and one is as fatal as a +dozen. In the last scene of the play, Horatio's last speech (spoken, it +will be remembered, after the death of the principal characters and the +entrance of Fortinbras) is correctly as follows, according to the text +both of the folios and the quartos:-- + + "Of that I shall have also cause to speak; + And from his mouth, whose voice will draw on more: + But let this same be presently perform'd, + Even while men's minds are wild, lest more mischance, + On plots and errors, happen." + +But in Mr. Collier's folio it is "corrected" after this astounding +fashion:-- + + "Of that I shall have also cause to speak, + And from his mouth, whose voice shall draw on more. + But let this _scene_ be presently perform'd, + _While I remaine behind to tell a tale + That shall hereafter turn the hearers pale_." + +Now, while Mr. Collier publishes the specious change of "this same" to +"this _scene_" he entirely passes over the substitution of two whole +lines immediately below. And who needs to be told why? Mr. Collier could +have the face and the folly to bring forward other priceless additions +of whole lines, even, in "Henry VI,"-- + + "My staff! Here, noble Henry, is my staff: + _To think I fain would keep it makes me + laugh_,"-- + +but he had judgment enough to see, that, if it were known that his +corrector had foisted the two lines in Italic letter above into the most +solemn scene in "Hamlet," the whole round world would ring with scornful +laughter. This collation of "Hamlet" has not only extinguished Mr. +Collier as a man of veracity, but it has given the _coup de grace_ to +any pretence of deference due to these marginal readings on any score. +But it has done something else. It has brought facts to light which in +themselves are inconsistent with the supposition that Mr. Collier or any +other man forged all these marginal readings,--that is, wrote them in +a pretended antique character,--and which, taken in connection with +the evidence that we have already examined, settles this part of the +question forever. + +The number of marginal alterations in this play, according to Dr. +Ingleby's count, which we believe is correct, is four hundred and +twenty-six. Now for how many of this number does the reader suppose +that the sharp eyes and the microscopes of the British Museum and its +unofficial aids have discovered the relics of pencil memorandums? +Exactly ten,--as any one may see by examining Mr. Hamilton's collation. +Of these ten, three are for punctuation,--the substitution of a period +for a semicolon, the introduction of three commas, and the substitution +of an interrogation point for a comma; the punctuation being of not the +slightest service in either case, as the sense is as clear as noonday +in all. Two are for the introduction of stage-directions in Act I., +Sc. 3,--"_Chambers_," and, on the entrance of the Ghost, "_armed as +before_"; neither of which, again, added anything to the knowledge of +the modern reader. This leaves but five pencil memorandums of changes in +the text; and they, with two exceptions, are the mere adding of letters +not necessary to the sense. + +Of these four hundred and twenty-six marginal changes, a very large +proportion, quite one-half, and we should think more, are mere +insignificant literal changes or additions, such as an editor in +supervising manuscript, or an author in reading proof, passes over, and +leaves to the proof-readers of the printing-office, by whom they are +called "literals," we believe. Such are the change of "_Whon_ yond +same starre" to "_When_ yond," etc.; "_Looke_ it not like the king" to +"_Lookes_ it," etc.; "He _smot_ the sledded Polax" to "He _smote_," +etc.; "_Heaven_ will direct it" to "_Heavens_ will," etc.; "list, +_Hamle_, list," to "list, _Hamlet_, list"; "the _Mornings_ Ayre" to +"the _Morning_ Ayre"; "My Liege and _Madrm_" to "My Liege and _Madam_"; +"_locke_ of Wit" to "_lacke_ of Wit"; "both our _judgement_ joyne" +to "both our _judgements_ joyne"; "my _convseration_" to "my +_conversation_"; "the _strucken_ Deere" to "the _stricken_ Deere"; +"_Requit_ him for your Father" to "_Requite_ him," etc.; "I'll _anoiot_ +my sword" to "I'll _anoint_" etc.; "the _gringding_ of the Axe" to "the +_grinding_" etc. To corrections like these the alleged forger must +have devoted more than half his time; and if the thirty-one pages that +"Hamlet" fills in the folio furnish us a fair sample of the whole of +the forger's labors,[jj] we have the enormous sum of six thousand four +hundred, and over, of such utterly useless changes upon the nine hundred +pages of that volume. Such another laborious scoundrel, who labored for +the labor's sake, the world surely never saw! + +[Footnote jj: Dr. Ingleby says,--"The collations of that single play are +a perfect picture of the contents of the original, and a just sample of +the other plays in that volume."--_Complete View_, p. 131.] + +But among these marginal changes in "Hamlet," a large number present +a very striking and significant peculiarity,--a peculiarity which was +noticed in our previous article as characterizing other marginal changes +in the same volume, and which it is impossible to reconcile with the +purpose of a forger who knew enough to make the body of the corrections +on these margins, and who meant to obtain authority for them as being, +in the words of Mr. Collier, "Early Manuscript Corrections in the Folio +of 1632." That peculiarity is a _modernization of the text absolutely +fatal to the "early" pretensions of the readings;_ and it appears in the +regulation of the loose spelling prevalent at the publication of this +folio, and for many years after, by the standard of the more regular +and approximately analogous fashion of a later period, and also in the +establishment of grammatical concords, which, entirely disregarded in +the former period, were observed by well-educated people in the latter. + +Thus we find "He _smot_" changed to "He _smote_"; "Some _sayes_" to +"Some _say_"; "_veyled_ lids" to "_vayled_ lids"; "_Seemes_ to me all +the uses" to "_Seem_ to me all the uses"; "It lifted up _it_ head" to +"It lifted up _its_ head"; "_dreins_ his draughts" to "_drains_ his +draughts"; "fast in _fiers_" to "fast in _fires_"; "a _vild_ phrase, +beautified is a _vild_ phrase," to "a _vile_ phrase, beautified is a +_vile_ phrase"; "How in my words _somever_ she be shent" to "How in my +words _soever_," etc.; "_currants_ of this world" to "_currents_," etc.; +"theres _matters_" to "theres _matter_"; "like some _oare_" to "like +some _ore_"; "this _vilde_ deed" to "this _vile_ deed"; "a sword +_unbaited_" to "a sword _unbated_"; "a _stoape_ liquor" to "a _stoop_ +liquor"; and "the _stopes_ of wine" to "the _stoopes_ of wine." Of +corrections like these we have discovered twenty-eight among the +collations of "Hamlet" alone, and there are probably more. We may safely +assume that in this respect "Hamlet" fairly represents the other plays +in Mr. Collier's folio; for we have not only Dr. Ingleby's assurance +that it is a "just sample" of the volume, but in the four octavo sheets +of fac-similes privately printed by Mr. Collier we find these instances +of like corrections: "_Betide_ to any creature" to "_Betid_," etc.; +"_Wreaking_ as little" to "_Wrecking_ as little"; "painted _cloathes_" +to "painted _clothes_"; "words that _shakes_" to "words that _shake_." +Twenty-eight such corrections for the thirty-one pages of "Hamlet" give +us about eight hundred and fifty for the nine hundred pages of the whole +volume,--eight hundred and fifty instances in which the alleged forger, +who wished to obtain for his supposed fabrication the consideration due +to antiquity, modernized the text, though he obtained thereby only a +change of form, and not a single new reading, in any sense of the term! + +We turn to kindred evidence in the stage-directions. In "Love's Labor's +Lost," Act IV., Sc. 3, when Birone conceals himself from the King, the +stage-direction in the folio of 1632, as well as in that of 1623, is +"_He stands aside_." But in Mr. Collier's folio of 1632 this is changed +to "_He climbs a tree_," and he is afterward directed to speak "_in the +tree_." So again in "Much Ado about Nothing," Act II., Sc. 3, there is a +MS. stage-direction to the effect that Benedick, when he hides "in the +arbour," "_Retires behind the trees_." Now as this use of scenery +did not obtain until after the Restoration, these stage-directions +manifestly could not have been written until after that period. Upon +this point--which was first made in "Putnam's Magazine" for October, +1853, in the article "The Text of Shakespeare: Mr. Collier's Corrected +Folio of 1632,"--Mr. Halliwell says (fol. Shak. Vol. IV. p. 340) that +the writer of that article "fairly adduces these MS. directions as +incontestable evidences of the late period of the writing in that +volume, 'practicable' trees certainly not having been introduced on the +English stage until after the Restoration." See, too, in the following +passage from "The Noble Stranger," by Lewis Sharpe, London, 1640, direct +evidence as to the stage customs in London, eight years after the +publication of Mr. Collier's folio, in situations like those of Birone +and Benedick:-- + + "I am resolv'd, I over- + Heard them in the presence appoynt to walke + Here in the garden: now in _yon thicket + I'll stay_," etc. + + "_Exit behind the Arras_." + +But no man in the world knows the ancient customs of the English stage +better than Mr. Collier,--we may even say, so well, and pay no undue +compliment to the historian of that stage;[kk] and though he might +easily, in the eagerness of discovery, overlook the bearing of such +stage-directions as those in question, will it be believed, by any one +not brimful of blinding prejudice, that, in attempting the imposition +with which he is charged, and in forging in a copy of the folio of 1632 +notes and emendations for which he claimed deference because they were, +in his own words, "in a handwriting not much later than the time when it +came from the press," he deliberately wrote in these stage-directions, +which in any case added nothing to the reader's information, and which +he, of all men, knew would prove that his volume was not entitled to the +credit he was laboring to obtain for it? + +[Footnote kk: _The History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of +Shakespeare: and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration_. By J. Payne +Collier, Esq., F.S.A. 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1831.] + +Again, Mr. Hamilton's collations of "Hamlet" show that no less than +thirty-six passages have been erased from that play in this folio. These +erased passages are from a few insignificant words to fifty lines in +extent They include lines like these in Act I., Sc. 2:-- + + "With one auspicious and one dropping eye, + With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in + marriage,"-- + +and these from the same scene:-- + + "It shows a will most incorrect to heaven; + A heart unfortified, or mind impatient; + An understanding simple and unschool'd: + For what we know must be, and is as common + As any the most vulgar thing to sense, + Why should we, in our peevish opposition, + Take it to heart? Fie! 't is a fault to heaven, + A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, + To reason most absurd; whose common theme + Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, + From the first corse, till he that died to-day, + This must be so." + +In the last scene, all after Horatio's speech; "Now cracks a noble +heart," etc., is struck out. Who will believe that any man in his +senses, making corrections for which he meant to claim the deference +due to a higher authority than the printed test, would make such and so +numerous erasures? In fact, no one does so believe. + +But the collations of "Hamlet" furnish in these erasures one other very +important piece of evidence. In Act II., Sc. 1, the passage from and +including Reynaldo's speech, "As gaming, my Lord," to his other speech, +"Ay, my Lord, I would know that," is crossed out. But the lines are not +only crossed through in ink, they are "also marked in pencil." Now it +is confessed by the accusers of Mr. Collier that these erasures are the +marks of an ancient adaptation of the text to stage purposes, which were +made before the marginal corrections of the text; otherwise they must +needs have maintained the preposterous position just above set forth. +And besides, it is admitted, that, in the numerous passages which are +both erased and corrected, the work itself shows that the corrections +were made upon the erasures, and not the erasures upon the corrections. +We have, therefore, here, upon the very pages of this folio, evidence +that alterations in pencil not only might have been, but were, made upon +it at an early period, even in regard to so very slight a matter as the +crossing out of fourteen lines; and that these pencilled lines served as +a guide for the subsequent permanent erasure in ink. + +And this collation of "Hamlet" also enables us to decide with +approximate certainty upon the period when these manuscript readings +were entered upon the margins of the folio. Not more surely did the +lacking aspirate betray the Ephraimite at Jordan than the spelling of +this manuscript corrector reveals the period at which he performed his +labors. Take, for instance, the word "vile." Any man who could make the +body of these corrections knows that the most common spelling of "vile" +down to the middle of the century 1600 was _vild_ or _vilde_. This +spelling has even been retained in the text by some editors, and with at +least a semblance of reason, as being not a mere variation in spelling, +but as representing a different form of the word. No man knows all this +better than Mr. Collier; and yet we are called upon to believe that he, +meaning to obtain authoritative position for the marginal readings in +this folio, by making them appear to have been written by a contemporary +of Shakespeare's later years, altered _vild_ to _vile_ in three passages +of a single play, though he thereby made not the slightest shade of +difference in the meaning of the passage! And the same demand is made +upon our credulity in regard to the eight hundred and fifty similar +instances! Sir Frederic Madden, Mr. Duffus Hardy, Mr. Hamilton, +Dr. Ingleby, accomplished palaeographers, keen-eyed, remorseless +investigators, learned doctors though you be, you cannot make men who +have common sense believe this. Your tests, your sharp eyes, and your +optical aids, even that dreadful "microscope bearing the imposing and +scientific name of the Simonides Uranius," which carried such terror to +the heart of Mr. Collier, will fail to convince the world that he spent +hour after hour and day after day in labors the only purpose of which +was directly at war with that which you attribute to him, and which, if +he made these manuscript corrections, must have been the motive of his +labors. + +But if Mr. Collier, or some other man of this century, did not make +these orthographical changes, when were they made? Let us trace the +fortunes of _vile_, which is a good test word, as being characteristic, +and as it occurs several times in "Hamlet," and is there thrice +modernized by the manuscript corrector. It occurs five times in that +play, as the reader may see by referring to Mrs. Clarke's "Concordance." +In the folio of 1623, in all these cases, except the first, it is +spelled _vild_; in the folio of 1632, with the same exception, we also +find _vild_; even in the folio of 1664[ll] the spelling in all these +instances remains unchanged; but in the folio of 1685, _vild_ gives +place to _vile_ in every case. As with "vild," so with the other words +subjected to like changes. To make a long story short, the spelling +throughout the marginal readings of this folio, judged by the numerous +fac-similes and collations that have been published, indicates the close +of the last quarter of the century 1600 as the period about which the +volume in which they appear was subjected to correction. The careful +removal (though with some oversights) of those irregularities and +anomalies of spelling which were common before the Restoration, and the +harmonizing of grammatical discords which were disregarded before that +period, and, on the other hand, the retention of the superfluous final +_e_, (once the _e_ of prolongation,) and of the _l_ in the contractions +of "would," in accordance with a pronunciation which prevailed in +England until 1700 and later, all point to this date, which is also +indicated by various other internal proofs to which attention has been +heretofore sufficiently directed.[mm] The punctuation, too, which, +as Mr. Collier announced in "Notes and Emendations," etc., 1853, is +corrected "with nicety and patience," is that of the books printed after +the Restoration, as may be seen by a comparison of Mr. Collier's private +fac-similes and the collations of "Hamlet" in Mr. Hamilton's book with +the original editions of poems and plays printed between 1660 and 1675. + +[Footnote ll: Or 1663, according to the title-pages of some copies that +we have seen.] + +[Footnote mm: See _Shakespeare's Scholar_, pp. 56-62. And to the +passages noticed there, add this: In _King Henry VI_., Part II., Act +IV., Sc. 5, is this couplet:-- + + "Fight for your King, your country, and your lives. + And so farewell; for I must hence again." + +The last line of which in Mr. Collier's folio is changed to + + "And so farewell; _Rebellion never thrives_." + +Plainly this was written when Charlie was no longer over the water.] + +From the foregoing examination of the evidence upon this most +interesting question, it appears, we venture to assume, that the +conclusions drawn by Mr. Collier's opponents as to the existence of +primal evidence of forgery in the ink writing alone in his folio are not +sustained by the premises which are brought forward in their support. It +seems also clear, that, to say the least, it is not safe to assume that +all the pencil memorandums which appear upon the margins of that +volume as guides for the corrections in ink are proofs of the spurious +character of those corrections; but that, on the contrary, those +pencil-marks, with certain exceptions, may be the faint vestiges of the +work of a corrector who lived between 1632 and 1675, and who entered his +readings in pencil before finally completing them in ink. We have found, +too, that this volume, for the manuscript readings in which the alleged +forger claimed an authority based upon the early date at which they were +written, presents upon its every page changes in phraseology, grammar, +orthography, and punctuation, which, utterly useless for a forger's +purpose, could not have been made before a late period in the century +1600. Now when, in view of these facts, we consider that the man who is +accused of committing this forgery is a professed literary antiquary, +who, at the time when he brought forward this folio, (in 1852,) had been +engaged in the minute study of the text of old plays and poems for more +than thirty years,[nn] can we hesitate in pronouncing a verdict of not +guilty of the offence as charged? It is as manifest as the sun in +the heavens that Mr. Collier is not the writer of the mass of the +corrections in this folio. It is morally impossible that he should have +made them; and, on the other hand, the physical evidence which is relied +upon by his accusers breaks down upon examination. + +[Footnote nn: _The Poetical Decameron, or Ten Conversations on English +Poets and Poetry, particularly of the Reigns of Elizabeth and James I._ +London, 1820.] + + * * * * * + +But the modern cursive pencil-writing!--for you see that it is this +cursive writing that damns this folio,--what story does that tell? +What is its character? Who wrote it? Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby have +answered these questions by the publication of between twenty and thirty +fac-similes of this pencil-writing, consisting in only five instances of +more than a single word, letter, or mark. But these are undeniably the +work of a modern hand,--a hand of this century, as may be seen by the +following reproductions of two of the fac-similes:-- + +[Illustration: Handwriting sample.] + +The upper one represents the stage-direction in ink, with its +accompanying pencil-memorandum, for an _aside_ speech in "King +John," Act II., Sc. 1,--doubtless that of Faulconbridge,--"O prudent +discipline," etc. This is reproduced from a fac-simile published by Dr. +Ingleby. Mr. Hamilton has given a fac-simile of the same words; but Dr. +Ingleby says that his is the more accurate. The lower memorandum is a +pencilled word, "_begging_" opposite the line in "Hamlet," Act III., Sc. +2, "And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee," to which there is no +corresponding word in ink. Both these words are manifestly not examples +of an ancient cursive hand, like those of which fac-similes are given +above, but of rapid pencil-writing of the present century. They fairly +represent the character of all the fac-similes of words in pencil, with +two exceptions, which Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby have published. But +the question as to their origin can be brought down to a narrower point. +For not only does competent testimony from London assure us that Mr. +Collier's handwriting and that of these pencil-memorandums is identical, +but, having some of that gentleman's writing in pencil by us, we are +able to see this identity for ourselves. We can discover not the +slightest room for doubt that a certain number of the pencil-guides for +the corrections upon the margins of this folio were written either by +Mr. Collier himself, or in the British Museum by some malicious +person who desired to inculpate him in a forgery. The reader who has +accompanied us thus far can have no doubt as to which alternative we +feel compelled to choose. The indications of the pencilled words +in modern cursive writing are strengthened by the short-hand +stage-direction in "Coriolanus," Act V., Sc. 2, "Struggles or instead +noise," in the characters of Palmer's system, which was promulgated in +1774. This system is one which a man of Mr. Collier's years would be +likely to use, and the purport of the memorandum is obvious. Would Mr. +Collier have us believe that this also was introduced in the British +Museum? + +We have chosen the word "begging" for fac-simile not merely because of +the marked character of its chirography. It has other significance. Mr. +Collier asks, "What is gained by it?" and says, that, as there is no +corresponding change in the text, "'begging' must have been written in +the margin ... merely as an explanation, and a bad explanation, too, if +it refer to 'pregnant' in the poet's text."[oo] It is, of course, no +explanation; but it seems plainly that it is the memorandum for a +proposed, but abandoned, substitution. Who that is familiar with the +corrections in Mr. Collier's folio does not recognize this as one of +those which have been so felicitously described by an American critic as +taking "the fire out of the poetry, the fine tissue out of the thought, +and the ancient flavor and aroma out of the language"?[pp] The corrector +in this case plainly thought of reading, + + "And crook the begging hinges of the knee"; + +but, doubtful as to this at first, (for we regard the +interrogation-point as a query to himself, and not as indicating the +insertion of that point after "Dost thou hear,") he finally came to the +conclusion, that, although he, and many a respectable poet, might have +written "begging" in this passage, Shakespeare was just the man to write +"pregnant,"--an instance of critical sagacity of which he has left us +few examples. Now it is remarkable that the majority of the changes +proposed by Mr. Collier in the notes to this edition of Shakespeare +(8 vols., 8vo., 1842-3) evince a capacity for the apprehension of +figurative language and for conjectural emendation of the very calibre +indicated by this proposed change of "pregnant hinges" to "_begging_ +hinges." He has throughout his literary career, which began, we believe, +with the publication of the "Poetical Decameron," in 1820, shown +rather the faithfulness, the patience, and the judgment of a literary +antiquary, than the insight, the powers of comparison, the sensibility, +and the constructive ingenuity of a literary critic. And one of the +great improbabilities against his authorship of all the corrections in +his folio is, that it is not according to Nature that so late in life he +should develop the constructive ability necessary for the production +of many of its specious and ingenious, though inadmissible, original +readings. + +[Footnote oo: _Reply_, p. 22.] + +[Footnote pp: Rev. N.L. Frothingham, D.D., in the _Christian Examiner_ +for November, 1853.] + +We see, then, no way of avoiding the conclusion that this notorious +folio was first submitted to erasure for stage purposes; that afterward, +at some time between 1650 and 1675, it was carefully corrected for +the press with the view to the publication of a new edition; and that +finally it fell into the hands of Mr. Collier, who, either alone or by +the aid of an accomplice, introduced other readings upon its margins, +for the purpose of obtaining for them the same deference which he +supposed those already there would receive for their antiquity. +Either this is true, or Mr. Collier is the victim of a mysterious +and marvellously successful conspiracy; and by his own unwise and +unaccountable conduct--to use no harsher terms--has aided the plans of +his enemies. + +Mr. Collier's position in this affair is, in any case, a most singular +and unenviable one. His discoveries, considering their nature and +extent and the quarters in which they were made, are exceedingly +suspicious:--the Ellesmere folio, the Bridgewater House documents, +including the Southampton letter, the Dulwich College documents, +including the Alleyn letter, the Petition of the Blackfriars Company +in the State Paper Office, and the various other letters, petitions, +accounts, and copies of verses, all of which are justly open to +suspicion of tampering, if not of forgery. What a strange and +unaccountable fortune to befall one man! How has this happened? What +fiend has followed Mr. Collier through the later years of his life, +putting manuscripts under his pillow and folios into his pew, and so +luring him on to moral suicide? Alas! there is probably but one man +now living that can tell us, and he will not. But this protracted +controversy, which has left so much unsettled, has greatly served the +cause of literature, in showing that by whomsoever and whensoever these +marginal readings, which so took the world by storm nine years ago, were +written, they have no pretence to any authority whatever, not even +the quasi authority of an antiquity which would bring them within the +post-Shakespearian period. All must now see, what a few at first saw, +that their claim to consideration rests upon their intrinsic merit only. +But what that merit is, we fear will be disputed until the arrival of +that ever-receding Shakespearian millenium when the editors shall no +longer rage or the commentators imagine a vain thing. + + * * * * * + + +THE BATH. + + + Off, fetters of the falser life,-- + Weeds that conceal the statue's form! + This silent world with truth is rife, + This wooing air is warm. + + Now fall the thin disguises, planned + For men too weak to walk unblamed; + Naked beside the sea I stand,-- + Naked, and not ashamed. + + Where yonder dancing billows dip, + Far-off, to ocean's misty verge, + Ploughs Morning, like a full-sailed ship, + The Orient's cloudy surge. + + With spray of scarlet fire before + The ruffled gold that round her dies, + She sails above the sleeping shore, + Across the waking skies. + + The dewy beach beneath her glows; + A pencilled beam, the light-house burns: + Full-breathed, the fragrant sea-wind blows,-- + Life to the world returns! + + I stand, a spirit newly born, + White-limbed and pure, and strong, and fair,-- + The first-begotten son of Morn, + The nursling of the air! + + There, in a heap, the masks of Earth, + The cares, the sins, the griefs, are thrown + Complete, as, through diviner birth, + I walk the sands alone. + + With downy hands the winds caress, + With frothy lips the amorous sea, + As welcoming the nakedness + Of vanished gods, in me. + + Along the ridged and sloping sand, + Where headlands clasp the crescent cove, + A shining spirit of the land, + A snowy shape, I move: + + Or, plunged in hollow-rolling brine, + In emerald cradles rocked and swung, + The sceptre of the sea is mine, + And mine his endless song. + + For Earth with primal dew is wet, + Her long-lost child to rebaptize: + Her fresh, immortal Edens yet + Their Adam recognize. + + Her ancient freedom is his fee; + Her ancient beauty is his dower: + She bares her ample breasts, that he + May suck the milk of power. + + Press on, ye hounds of life, that lurk + So close, to seize your harried prey! + Ye fiends of Custom, Gold, and Work, + I hear your distant bay! + + And like the Arab, when he bears + To the insulted camel's path + His garment, which the camel tears, + And straight forgets his wrath; + + So, yonder badges of your sway, + Life's paltry husks, to you I give: + Fall on, and in your blindness say, + We hold the fugitive! + + But leave to me this brief escape + To simple manhood, pure and free,-- + A child of God, in God's own shape, + Between the land and sea! + + + + +SACCHARISSA MELLASYS. + + +I. + +THE HERO. + + +When I state that my name is A. Bratley Chylde, I presume that I am +already sufficiently introduced. + +My patronymic establishes my fashionable position. Chylde, the +distinguished monosyllable, is a card of admission everywhere,-- +everywhere that is anywhere. + +And my matronymic, Bratley, should have established my financial +position for life. It should have--allow me a vulgar term--"indorsed" me +with the tradesmen who have the honor to supply me with the glove, the +boot, the general habiliment, and all the requisites of an elegant +appearance upon the carpet or the _trottoir_. + +But, alas! I am not so indorsed--pardon the mercantile aroma of the +word--by the name Bratley. + +The late Mr. A. Bratley, my grandfather, was indeed one of those rude, +laborious, and serviceable persons whose office is to make money--or +perhaps I should say to accumulate the means of enjoyment--for the upper +classes of society. + +But my father, the late Mr. Harold Chylde, had gentlemanly tastes. + +How can I blame him? I have the same. + +He loved to guide the rapid steed along the avenue. + +I also love to guide the rapid steed. + +He could not persuade his delicate lungs--pardon my seeming knowledge of +anatomy--to tolerate the confined air in offices, counting-houses, banks, +or other haunts of persons whose want of refinement of taste impels them +to the crude distractions of business-life. + +I have the same delicacy of constitution. Indeed, unless the atmosphere +I breathe is rendered slightly narcotic by the smoke of Cabañas and +slightly stimulating by the savor of heeltaps,--excuse the technical +term,--I find myself debilitated to a degree. The open air is extremely +offensive to me. I confine myself to clubs and billiard-rooms. + +My late father, being a man distinguished for his clear convictions, was +accustomed to sustain the statement of those convictions by wagers. +The inherent generosity of his nature obliged him often to waive his +convictions in behalf of others, and thus to abandon the receipt of +considerable sums. He also found the intellectual excitement of games of +chance necessary to his mental health. + +I cannot blame him for these and similar gentlemanly tastes. My own are +the same. + +The late Mr. A. Bratley, at that time in his dotage, and recurring to +the crude idioms of his homely youth, constantly said to my father,-- + +"Harold, you are a spendthrift and a rake, and are bringing up your son +the same." + +I object, of course, to his terms; but since he foresaw that my habits +would be expensive, it is to be regretted that he did not make suitable +provision for their indulgence. + +He did not, however, do so. Persons of low-breeding never can comprehend +their duties to the more refined. + +The respective dusts of my father and grandfather were consigned to the +tomb the same week, and it was found that my mother's property had all +melted away, as--allow me a poetical figure--ice-cream melts between the +lips of beauty heated after the German. + +Yes,--all was gone, except a small pittance in the form of an annuity. I +will not state the ridiculously trifling amount. I have seen more +than our whole annual income lost by a single turn of a card at the +establishment of the late Mr. P. Hearn, and also in private circles. + +Something must be done. Otherwise, that deprivation of the luxuries of +life which to the aristocratic is starvation. + +I stated my plans to my mother. They were based in part upon my +well-known pecuniary success at billiards--I need not say that I prefer +the push game, as requiring no expenditure of muscular force. They were +also based in part upon my intimacy with a distinguished operator in +Wall Street. Our capital would infallibly have been quadrupled,--what +do I say? decupled, centupled, in a short space of time. + +My mother is a good, faithful creature. She looks up to me as a Bratley +should to a Chylde. She appreciates the honor my father did her by his +marriage, and I by my birth. I have frequently remarked a touching +fidelity of these persons of the lower classes of society toward those +of higher rank. + +"I would make any sacrifice in the world," she said, "to help you, my +dear A---" + +"Hush!" I cried. + +I have suppressed my first name as unmelodious and connecting me too +much with a religious persuasion meritorious for its wealth alone. Need +I say that I refer to the faith of the Rothschild? + +"All that I have is yours, my dear Bratley," continued my mother. + +Quite touching! was it not? I was so charmed, that I mentally promised +her a new silk when she went into half-mourning, and asked her to go +with me to the opera as soon as she got over that feeble tendency to +tears which kept her eyes red and unpresentable. + +"I would gladly aid you," the simple-hearted creature said, "in any +attempt to make your fortune in an honorable and manly way." + +"Brava! brava!" I cried, and I patted applause, as she deserved. "And +you had better make over your stocks to me at once," I continued. + +"I cannot without your Uncle Bratley's permission. He is my trustee. Go +to him, my dear son." + +I went to him very unwillingly. My father and I had always as much as +possible ignored the Bratley connection. They live in a part of New York +where self-respect does not allow me to be seen. They are engaged in +avocations connected with the feeding of the lower classes. My father +had always required that the females of their families should call on +my mother on days when she was not at home to our own set, and at hours +when they were not likely to be detected. None of them, I am happy to +say, were ever seen at our balls or our dinners. + +I nerved myself, and penetrated to that Ultima Thule where Mr. Bratley +resides. His house already, at that early hour of two, smelt vigorously +of dinner. Nothing but the urgency of my business could have induced me +to brave these odors of plain roast and boiled. + +A mob of red-faced children rushed to see me as I entered, and I heard +one of them shouting up the stairs,-- + +"Oh, pa! there's a stiffy waiting to see you." + +The phrase was new to me. I looked for a mirror, to see whether any +inaccuracy in my toilet might have suggested it. + +Positively there was no mirror in the _salon_. + +Instead of it, there were nothing but distressingly bright pictures by +artists who had had the bad taste to paint raw Nature just as they saw +it. + +My uncle entered, and quite overwhelmed me with a robust cordiality +which seemed to ignore my grief. + +"Just in time, my boy," said he, "to take a cut of rare roast beef and a +hot potato and a mug of your Uncle Sam's beer with us." + +I shuddered, and rebuked him with the intelligence that I had just +lunched at the club, and should not dine till six. + +Then I stated my business, curtly. + +He looked at me with a stare, which I have frequently observed in +persons of limited intelligence. + +"So you want to gamble away your mother's last dollar," said he. + +In vain I stated and restated to him my plans. The fellow, evidently +jealous of my superior financial ability, constantly interrupted me with +ejaculations of "Pish!" "Bosh!" "Pshaw!" "No go!" and finally, with a +loud thump on a table, covered with such costly but valueless objects as +books and plates, he cried, + +"What a d--d fool!" + +I was glad to perceive that he began to admit my wisdom and his +stolidity. And so I told him. + +"A---," said he, using my abhorred name in full, "I believe you are a +greater ass than your father was." + +"Sir," said I, much displeased, "these intemperate ebullitions will +necessarily terminate our conference." + +"Conference be hanged!" he rejoined. "You may as well give it up. You +are not going to get the first red cent out of me." + +"Have I referred, Sir," said I, "to the inelegant coin you name?" + +The creature grinned. "I shall pay your mother's income quarterly, and +do the best I can by her," he continued; "and if you want to make a +man of yourself, I'll give you a chance in the bakery with me; or Sam +Bratley will take you into his brewery; or Bob into his pork-packery." + +I checked my indignation. The vulgarian wished to drag me, a Chylde, +down to the Bratley level. But I suppressed my wrath, for fear he might +find some pretext for suppressing the quarterly income, and alleged my +delicate health as a reason for my refusing his insulting offer. + +"Well," said he, "I don't see as there is anything else for you to do, +except to find some woman fool enough to marry you, as Betsey did your +father. There's a hundred dollars!" + +I have seldom seen dirtier bills than those he produced and handed to +me. Fortunately I was in deep mourning and my gloves were dark lead +color. + +"That's right," says he,--"grab 'em and fob 'em. Now go to Newport and +try for an heiress, and don't let me see your tallow face inside of my +door for a year." + +He had bought the right to be despotic and abusive. I withdrew and +departed, ruminating on his advice. Singularly, I had not before thought +of marrying. I resolved to do so at once. + +Newport is the mart where the marriageable meet. I took my departure for +Newport next day. + + +II. + +THE HEROINE. + + +I need hardly say, that, on arriving at Newport, one foggy August +morning, I drove at once to the Millard. + +The Millard attracted me for three reasons: First, it was new; second, +it was fashionable; third, the name would be sure to be in favor with +the class I had resolved to seek my spouse among. The term _spouse_ I +select as somewhat less familiar than _wife_, somewhat more permanent +than _bride_, and somewhat less amatory than _the partner of my bosom_. +I wish my style to be elevated, accurate, and decorous. It is my object, +as the reader will have already observed, to convey heroic sentiments in +the finest possible language. + +It was upon some favored individual of the class Southern Heiress that +I designed to let fall the embroidered handkerchief of affectionate +selection. At the Millard I was sure to find her. That enormously +wealthy and highly distinguished gentleman, her father, would naturally +avoid the Ocean House. The adjective _free_, so intimately connected +with the _substantive_ ocean, would constantly occur to his mind and +wound his sensibilities. The Atlantic House was still more out of the +question. The name must perpetually remind the tenants of that hotel of +a certain quite objectionable periodical devoted to propagandism. In +short, not to pursue this process of elimination farther, and perhaps +offend some friend of the class Hotel-Keeper, the Millard was not only +about the cheese, _per se_,--I punningly allude here to the creaminess +of its society,--but inevitably the place to seek my charmer. + +The clock of the Millard was striking eleven as I entered the _salle à +manger_ for a late breakfast after my night-journey from New York by +steamboat. + +I flatter myself that I produced, as I intended, a distinct impression. +My deep mourning gave me a most interesting look, which I heightened +by an air of languor and abstraction as of one lost in grief. My +shirt-studs were jet. The plaits of my shirt were edged with black. My +Clarendon was, of course, black, and from its breast-pocket appeared a +handkerchief dotted with spots, not dissimilar to black peppermint-drops +on a white paper. In consequence of the extreme heat of the season, I +wore waistcoat and trousers of white duck; but they, too, were qualified +with sombre contrasts of binding and stripes. + +The waiters evidently remarked me. It may have been the hope of +pecuniary reward, it may have been merely admiration for my dress and +person; but several rushed forward, diffusing that slightly oleaginous +perfume peculiar to the waiter, and drew chairs for me. + +I had, however, selected my position at the table at the moment of +my entrance. It was _vis-à -vis_ a party of four persons,--two of the +sterner, two of the softer sex. A back view interpreted them to me. +There is much physiognomy in the backs of human heads, because--and here +I flatter myself that I enunciate a profound truth--people wear that +well-known mask, the human countenance, on the front of the human head +alone, and think it necessary to provide such concealment nowhere else. + +"A rich Southern planter and his family!" I said to myself, and took my +seat opposite them. + +"Nothing, Michel," I replied to the waiter's recital of his +bill-of-fare. "Nothing but a glass of iced water and bit of dry toast. +Only that, thank you, Michel." + +My appetite was good, particularly as, in consequence of the agitation +of the water opposite Point Judith, my stomach had ceased to be occupied +with relics of previous meals. My object in denying myself, and +accepting simply hermit fare, was to convey to observers my grief for my +bereavement. I have always deemed it proper for persons of distinguished +birth to deplore the loss of friends in public. Hunger, if extreme, can +always be reduced by furtive supplies from the pastry-cook. + +I could not avoid observing that the party opposite had each gone +through the whole breakfast bill-of-fare in a desultory, but exhaustive +manner. + +As I ordered my more delicate meal, the younger of the two gentlemen +cast upon me a look of latent truculence, such as I have often remarked +among my compatriots of the South. He seemed to detect an unexpressed +sarcasm in the contrast between my gentle refection and his robust +_déjeuner_. + +I hastened to disarm such a suspicion by a half-articulate sigh. No one, +however crass, could have failed to be touched by this token of a grief +so bitter as to refuse luxurious nutriment. + +As I sighed, I glanced with tender meaning at the young lady. Her +feminine heart, I hoped, would interpret and pity me. + +I fancied, that, at my look, her cheeks, though swarthy, blushed. She +was certainly interested, and somewhat confused, and paused a moment +in her mastication. Ham was the viand she was engaged upon, and she +(playfully, I have no doubt) ate with her knife. I have remarked the +same occasional superiority to what might be called Fourchettism and its +prejudices in others of established position in society. + +I lavished a little languid and not too condescending civility upon the +party by passing them, when Michel was absent, the salt, the butter, the +bread, and other commonplace condiments. Presently I withdrew, that my +absence might make me desired. Before I did so, however, I took pains, +by the exhibition of the "New York Herald" in my hands, to show that my +political sentiments were unexceptionable. + +I lost no time in consulting the books of the hotel for the names and +homes of the strangers. + +I read as follows:-- + + _Sachary Mellasys and Lady, } Bayou La + Miss Saccharissa Mellasys, } Farouche, + Mellasys Plickaman, } La._ + +Saccharissa Mellasys! I rolled the name like a sweet morsel under +my tongue. I forgot that she was not beautiful in form, feature, or +complexion. How slight, indeed, is the charm of beauty, when compared +with other charms more permanent! Ah, yes! + +The complexion of Miss Mellasys announced a diet of alternate pickles +and _pralines_ during her adolescent years,--the pickles taken to excite +an appetite for the _pralines_, the _pralines_ absorbed to occupy the +interval until pickle-time approached. Neither her form nor her features +were statuesque. But the name glorified the person. + +Sachary Mellasys was, as I was well aware, the great sugar-planter of +Louisiana, and Saccharissa his only child. + +I am an imaginative man. I have never doubted, that, if I should ever +give my fancies words, they would rank with the great creations of +genius. At the dulcet name of Mellasys a fairy scene grew before +my eyes. I seemed to see an army of merry negroes cultivating the +sugar-cane to the inspiring music of a banjo band. Ever and anon a +company of the careless creatures would pause and dance for pure +gayety of heart. Then they would recline under the shade of the wild +bandanna-tree,--I know this vegetable only through the artless poetry of +the negro minstrels,--while sleek and sprightly negresses, decked with +innocent finery, served them beakers of iced _eau sucré_. + +As I was shaping this Arcadian vision, Mr. Mellasys passed me on his +way to the bar-room. I hastened to follow, without the appearance of +intention. + +My reader is no doubt aware that at the fashionable bar-room the cigars +are all of the same quality, though the prices mount according to the +ambition of the purchaser. I found Mr. Mellasys gasping with efforts to +light a dime cigar. Between his gasps, profane expressions escaped him. + +"Sir," said I, "allow a stranger to offer you a better article." + +At the same time I presented my case filled with choice +Cabañas,--smuggled. My limited means oblige me to employ these judicious +economies. + +Mr. Mellasys took a cigar, lighted, whiffed, looked at me, whiffed +again,-- + +"Sir," says he, "dashed if that a'n't the best cigar I've smoked sence I +quit Bayou La Farouche!" + +"Ah! a Southerner!" said I. "Pray, allow the harmless weed to serve as a +token of amity between our respective sections." + +Mr. Mellasys grasped my hand. + +"Take a drink, Mr. ----?" said he. + +"Bratley Chylde," rejoined I, filling the hiatus,--"and I shall be most +happy." + +The name evidently struck him. It was a combination of all aristocracy +and all plutocracy. As I gave my name, I produced and presented my card. +I was aware, that, with the uncultured, the possession of a card is a +proof of gentility, as the wearing of a coat-of-arms proves a long line +of distinguished ancestry. + +Mr. Mellasys took my card, studied it, and believed in it with +refreshing _naiveté_. + +"I'm proud to know you, Mr. Chylde," said he. "I haven't a card; +but Mellasys is my name, and I'll show it to you written on the +hotel-books." + +"We will waive that ceremony," said I. "And allow me to welcome you to +Newport and the Millard. Shall we enjoy the breeze upon the piazza?" + +Before our second cigar was smoked, the great planter and I were on the +friendliest terms. My political sentiments he found precisely in accord +with his own. Indeed, our general views of life harmonized. + +"I dare say you have heard," said Mellasys, "from some of the bloated +aristocrats of my section that I was a slave-dealer once." + +"Such a rumor has reached me," rejoined I. "And I was surprised to find, +that, in some minds of limited intelligence and without development of +the logical faculty, there was a prejudice against the business." + +"You think that buyin' and sellin' 'em is just the same as ownin' 'em?" + +"I do." + +"Your hand!" said he, fervently. + +"Mr. Mellasys," said I, "let me take this opportunity to lay down my +platform,--allow me the playful expression. Meeting a gentleman of your +intelligence from the sunny South, I desire to express my sentiments as +a Christian and a gentleman." + +Here I thought it well to pause and spit, to keep myself in harmony with +my friend. + +"A gentleman," I continued, "I take to be one who confines himself to +the cultivation of his tastes, the decoration of his person, and the +preparation of his whole being to shine in the _salon_. Now to such +a one the condition of the laboring classes can be of no possible +interest. As a gentleman, I cannot recognize either slaves or laborers. +But here Christianity comes in. Christianity requires me to read and +interpret my Bible. In it I find such touching paragraphs as, 'Cursed +be Canaan!' Canaan is of course the negro slave of our Southern States. +Curse him! then, I say. Let us have no weak and illogical attempts to +elevate his condition. Such sentimentalism is rank irreligion. I view +the negro as _a man permanently upon the rack_, who is to be punished +just as much as he will bear without diminishing his pecuniary value. +And the allotted method of punishment is hard work, hard fare, the +liberal use of the whip, and a general negation of domestic privileges." + +"Mr. Chylde," said Mr. Mellasys, rising, "this is truth! this is +eloquence! this is being up to snuff! You are a high-toned gentleman! +you are an old-fashioned Christian! you should have been my partner in +slave-driving! Your hand!" + +The quality of the Mellasys hand was an oleaginous clamminess. My only +satisfaction, in touching it, was, that it seemed to suggest a deficient +circulation of the blood. Mr. Mellasys would probably go off early with +an apoplexy, and the husband of Miss Mellasys would inherit without +delay. + +"And now," continued the planter, "let me introduce you to my daughter." + +I felt that my fortune was made. + +I knew that she would speedily yield to my fascinations. + +And so it proved. In three days she adored me. For three days more I was +coy. In a week she was mine. + + +III. + +THE SUNNY SOUTH. + + +We were betrothed, Saccharissa Mellasys and I. + +In vain did Mellasys Plickaman glower along the corridors of the +Millard. I pitied him for his defeat too much to notice his attempts +to pick a quarrel. Firm in the affection of my Saccharissa and in the +confidence of her father, I waived the insults of the aggrieved and +truculent cousin. He had lost the heiress. I had won her. I could afford +to be generous. + +We were to be married in December, at Bayou La Farouche. Then we were +to sail at once for Europe. Then, after a proud progress through the +principal courts, we were to return and inhabit a stately mansion in New +York. How the heart of my Saccharissa throbbed at the thought of bearing +the elevated name of Chylde and being admitted to the sacred circles of +fashion, as peer of the most elevated in social position! + +I found no difficulty in getting a liberal credit from my tailor. Upon +the mere mention of my engagement, that worthy artist not only provided +me with an abundant supply of raiment, but, with a most charming +delicacy, placed bank-notes for a considerable amount in the pockets +of my new trousers. I was greatly touched by this attention, and very +gladly signed an acknowledgment of debt. + +I regret, that, owing to circumstances hereafter to be mentioned, the +diary kept jointly by Saccharissa and myself during our journey to the +sunny South has passed out of my possession. Its pages overflowed with +tenderness. How beautiful were our dreams of the balls and _soirées_ we +were to give! How we discussed the style of our furniture, our carriage, +and our coachman! How I fed Saccharissa's soul with adulation! She +was ugly, she was vulgar, she was jealous, she was base, she had had +flirtations of an intimate character with scores; but she was rich, and +I made great allowances. + +At last we arrived at Bayou La Farouche. + +I cannot state that the locality is an attractive one. Its land scenery +is composed of alligators and mud in nearly equal proportions. + +I never beheld there my fancy realized of a band of gleeful negroes +hoeing cane to the music of the banjo. There are no wild bandanna-trees, +and no tame ones, either. The slaves of Mr. Mellasys never danced, +except under the whip of a very noisome person who acted as overseer. +There were no sleek and sprightly negresses in gay turbans, and no iced +_eau sucré_. Canaan was cursed with religious rigor on the Mellasys +plantation at Bayou La Farouche. + +All this time Mellasys Plickaman had been my _bête noir_. + +I know nothing of politics. Were our country properly constituted, +I should be in the House of Peers. The Chylde family is of sublime +antiquity, and I am its head in America. But, alas! we have no +hereditary legislators; and though I feel myself competent to wear the +strawberry-leaves, or even to sit upon a throne, I have not been willing +to submit to the unsavory contacts of American political life. Mr. +Mellasys Plickaman took advantage of my ignorance. + +When several gentlemen of the neighborhood were calling upon me in the +absence of Mr. Mellasys, my defeated rival introduced the subject of +politics. + +"I suppose you are a good Democrat, Mr. Chylde?" said one of the +strangers. + +"No, I thank you," replied I, sportively,--meaning, of course, that +they should understand I was a good Aristocrat. + +"Who's your man for President?" my interlocutor continued, rather +roughly. + +I had heard in conversation, without giving the fact much attention, +that an election for President was to take place in a few days. These +struggles of commonplace individuals for the privilege of residing in +a vulgar town like Washington were without interest to me. So I +answered,-- + +"Oh, any of them. They are all alike to me." + +"You don't mean to say," here another of the party loudly broke in, +"that Breckenridge and Lincoln are the same to you?" + +The young man wore long hair and a black dress-coat, though it was +morning. His voice was nasal, and his manner intrusive. I crushed +him with a languid "Yes." He was evidently abashed, and covered his +confusion by lighting a cigar and smoking it with the lighted end in +his mouth. This is a habit of many persons in the South, who hence are +called Fire-Eaters. + +Mellasys Plickaman here changed the subject to horses, which I _do_ +understand, and my visitors presently departed. + + "How happily the days of Thalaba went by!" + +as the poet has it. My Saccharissa and myself are both persons of a +romantic and dreamy nature. Often for hours we would sit and gaze +upon each other with only occasional interjections,--"How warm!" "How +sleepy!" "Is it not almost time for lunch?" As Saccharissa was not in +herself a beautiful object, I accustomed myself to see her merely as a +representative of value. Her yellowish complexion helped me in imagining +her, as it were, a golden image which might be cut up and melted down. +I used to fancy her dresses as made of certificates of stock, and +her ribbons as strips of coupons. Thus she was always an agreeable +spectacle. + +So time flew, and the sun of the sixth of November gleamed across the +scaly backs of the alligators of Bayou La Farouche. + +In three days I was to be made happy with the possession of one +hundred thousand dollars ($100,000) on the nail,--excuse the homely +expression,--great expectations for the future, and the hand of my +Saccharissa. + +For these I exchanged the name and social position of a Chylde, and my +own, I trust, not unattractive person. + +I deemed that I gave myself away dirt-cheap,--excuse again the +colloquialism; the transaction seems to require such a phrase,--for +there is no doubt that Mr. Mellasys was greatly objectionable. It was +certainly very illogical; but his neighbors who owned slaves insisted +upon turning up their noses at Mellasys, because he still kept up his +slave-pen on Touchpitchalas Street, New Orleans. Besides,--and here +again the want of logic seems to culminate into rank absurdity,--he was +viewed with a purely sentimental abhorrence by some, because he had +precluded a reclaimed fugitive from repeating his evasion by roasting +the soles of his feet before a fire until the fellow actually died. The +fact, of coarse, was unpleasant, and the loss considerable,--a prime +field-hand, with some knowledge of carpentry and a good performer on +the violin,--but evasions must be checked, and I cannot see why Mr. +Mellasys's method was too severe. Mr. Mellasys was also considered a +very unscrupulous person in financial transactions,--indeed, what would +be named in some communities a swindler; and I have heard it whispered +that the estimable, but somewhat obese and drowsy person who passed as +his wife was not a wife, ceremonially speaking. The dusky hues of her +complexion were also attributed to an infusion of African blood. There +was certainly more curl in her hair than I could have wished; and +Saccharissa's wiggy looks waged an irrepressible conflict with the +unguents which strove to reduce their crispness. + +Indeed, why should I not be candid? Mellasys _per se_ was a pill, Mrs. +Mellasys was a dose, and Saccharissa a bolus, to one of my refined and +sensitive taste. + +But the sugar coated them. + +To marry the daughter of the great sugar-planter of Louisiana I would +have taken medicines far more unpalatable and assafoetidesque than any +thus far offered. + +Meanwhile Mr. Mellasys Plickaman, cousin of my betrothed, had changed +his tactics and treated me with civility and confidence. We drank +together freely, sometimes to the point of inebriation. Indeed, unless +he put me to bed, on the evening before the day of the events I am about +to describe, I do not know how I got there. + +Morning dawned on the sixth of November. + +I was awakened, as usual, by the outcries of the refractory negroes +receiving their matinal stripes in the whipping-house. Feeling a little +languid and tame, I strolled down to witness the spectacle. + +It stimulated me quite agreeably. The African cannot avoid being comic. +He is the grotesque element in our civilization. He will be droll even +under the severest punishment. His contortions of body, his grimaces, +his ejaculations of "O Lor'! O Massa!" as the paddle or the lash strikes +his flesh, are laughable in the extreme. + +I witnessed the flagellation of several pieces of property of either +sex. The sight of their beating had the effect of a gentle tickling upon +me. The tone of my system was restored. I grew gay and lightsome. I +exchanged jokes with the overseer. He appreciated my mood, and gave a +farcical turn to the incidents of the occasion. + +I enjoyed my breakfast enormously. Saccharissa never looked so sweet; +Mr. Mellasys never so little like--pardon the expression--a cross +between a hog and a hyena; and I began to fancy that my mother-in-law's +general flabbiness of flesh and drapery was not so very offensive. + +After breakfast, Mr. Mellasys left us. It was, he said, the day of the +election for President. How wretched that America should not be governed +by hereditary sovereigns and an order of nobles trained to control! + +The day passed. It was afternoon, and I sat reading one of the novels +of my favorite De Balzac to my Saccharissa. At the same time my +imagination, following the author, strayed to Paris, and recalled to me +my bachelor joys in that gay capital. I resolved to repeat them again, +on our arrival there, at my bride's expense. How charming to possess a +hundred thousand dollars, ($100,000,) even burdened with a wife! + +My reading and my reverie were interrupted by the tramp of horses +without. Six persons in dress-coats rode up, dismounted, and approached. +All were smoking cigars with the lighted ends in their mouths. Mellasys +Plickaman led the party. I recognized also the persons who had +questioned me as to my politics. They entered the apartment where I sat +alone with Saccharissa. + +"Thar he is!" said Mellasys Plickaman. "Thar is the d--d Abolitionist!" + +Seeing that he indicated me, and that his voice was truculent, I +looked to my betrothed for protection. She burst into tears and drew a +handkerchief. + +An odor of musk combated for an instant with the whiskey reek diffused +by Mr. Plickaman and his companions. The balmy odor was, however, +quelled by the ruder scent. + +"I am surprised, Mr. Plickaman," said I, mildly, but conscious of +tremors, "at your use of opprobrious epithets in the presence of a +lady." + +"Oh, you be blowed!" returned he, with unpardonable rudeness. "You can't +skulk behind Saccharissy." + +"To what is this change in tone and demeanor owing, Sir?" I asked, with +dignity. + +"Don't take on airs, you little squirt!" said he. + +It will be observed that I quote his very language. His intention was +evidently insulting. + +"Mr. Chylde," remarked Judge Pyke, one of the gentlemen who had been +inquisitive as to my political sentiments, "The Vigilance Committee of +Fire-Eaters of Bayou La Farouche have come to the conclusion that you +are a spy, an Abolitionist, and a friend of Beecher and Phillips. We +intend to give you a fair trial; but I may as well state that we have +all made up our minds as to the law, the facts, and the sentence. +Therefore, prepare for justice. Colonel Plickaman, have you given +directions about the tar?" + +"It'll be b'ilin' in about eight minutes," replied my quondam rival, +with a boo-hoo of vulgar laughter. + +"Culprit!" said Judge Pyke, looking at me with a truly terrible +expression, "I have myself heard you avow, with insolent audacity, +that you were not a Democrat. Do you not know, Sir, that nothing but +Democrats are allowed to breathe the zephyrs of Louisiana? Silence, +culprit! Not a word! The court cannot be interrupted. I have also heard +you state that the immortal Breckenridge, Kentucky's favorite son, +was the same to you as the tiger Lincoln, the deadly foe of Southern +institutions. Silence, culprit!" + +Here Saccharissa moaned, and wafted a slight flavor of musk to me from +her cambric wet with tears. + +"Colonel Plickaman," continued the Judge, "produce the letters and +papers of the culprit." + +I am aware that a rival has rights, and that a defeated suitor may, +according to the code, calumniate and slander the more fortunate one. I +have done so myself. But it seems to me that there should be limits; and +I cannot but think that Mr. Mellasys Plickaman overstepped the limits +of fair play, when he took advantage of my last night's inebriety +to possess himself of my journal and letters. I will not, however, +absolutely commit myself on this point. Perhaps everything is fair in +love. Perhaps I may desire to avail myself of the same privilege in +future. + +I had spoken quite freely in my journal of the barbarians of Bayou La +Farouche. Each of the gentlemen now acting upon my jury was alluded to. +Colonel Plickaman read each passage in a pointed way, interjecting,--"Do +you hear that, Billy Sangaree?" "How do you like yourself now, Major +Licklickin?" "Here's something about your white cravat, Parson +Butterfut." + +The delicacy and wit of my touches of character chafed these gentlemen. +Their aspect became truly formidable. + +Meantime I began to perceive an odor which forcibly recalled to me the +asphaltum-kettles of the lively Boulevards of Paris. + +"Wait awhile, Fire-Eaters," said Plickaman, "the tar isn't quite ready +yet." + +The tar! What had that viscous and unfragrant material to do with the +present interview? + +"I won't read you what he says of me," resumed the Colonel. + +"Yes,--out with it!" exclaimed all. + +Suffice it to say that I had spoken of Mr. Mellasys Plickaman as a +person so very ill-dressed, so very lavish in expectoration, so entirely +destitute of the arts and graces of the higher civilization, merited. +His companions required that he should read his own character. He did +so. I need not say that I was suffering extremities of apprehension all +this time; but still I could not refrain from a slight sympathetic smile +of triumph as the others roared with laughter at my accurate analysis of +my rival. + +"You'll pay for this, Mr. A. Bratley Chylde!" says Plickaman. + +So long as my Saccharissa was on my side, I felt no special fear of what +my foes might do. I knew the devoted nature of the female sex. "_Elles +meurent, ou elles s'attachent_,"--beautiful thought! These riflers +of journals would, I felt confident, be unable to produce anything +reflecting my real sentiments about my betrothed. I had spoken of her +and her family freely--one must have a vent somewhere--to Mr. Derby +Deblore, my other self, my _Pylades_, my _Damon_, my _fidus Achades_ in +New York; but, unless they found Derby and compelled him to testify, +they could not alienate my Saccharissa. + +I gave her a touching glance, as Mellasys Plickaman closed his reading +of my private papers. + +She gave me a touching glance,--or rather, a glance which her amorphous +features meant to make touching,--and, waving musk from her handkerchief +through the apartment, cried,-- + +"Never mind, Arthur dear! I don't like you a bit the less for saying +what barbarous creatures these men are. They may do what they +please,--I'll stand by you. You have my heart, my warm Southern heart, +my Arthur!" + +"Arthur!" shouted that atrocious Plickaman,--"the loafer's name's +Aminadab, after that old Jew, his grandfather." + +Saccharissa looked at him and smiled contemptuously. + +I tried to smile. I could not. Aminadab _was_ my name. That old dotard, +my grandfather, had borne it before me. I had suppressed it carefully. + +"Aminadab's his name," repeated the Colonel. "His own mother ought to +know what he was baptized, and here is a letter from her which the +postmaster and I opened this morning. Look!--'My dear Aminadab.'" + +"Don't believe it, Saccharissa," said I, faintly, "It is only one of +those tender nicknames, relics of childhood, which the maternal parent +alone remembers." + +"Silence, culprit!" exclaimed Judge Pyke. "And now, Colonel, read the +letter upon which our sentence is principally based,--that traitorous +document which you and our patriotic postmaster arrested." + +The ruffian, with a triumphant glance at me, took from his pocket +a letter from Derby Deblore. He cleared his throat by a plenteous +expectoration, and then proceeded to read as follows:-- + +"Dear Bratley,--Nigger ran like a hound. Marshall and the rest only saw +his heels. I'm going on to Toronto to see how he does there. Keep your +eyes peeled, when you come through Kentucky. There's more of the same +stock there, only waiting for somebody to say, 'Leg it!' and they'll go +like mad." + +Here the audience interrupted,--"Hang him! hang him! tar and feathers +a'n't half bad enough for the dam' nigger-thief!" + +I began to comprehend Deblore's innocent reference to his favorite horse +Nigger; and a successful race he had made with the well-known racer +Marshall--not Rynders--was construed by my jury into a knowledge on my +part of the operations of the "Underground Railroad." What could have +been more absurd? I endeavored to protest. I endeavored to show them, on +general and personal grounds, how utterly devoted I was to the "Peculiar +Institution." + +"Billy Sangaree," said Judge Pyke, "do you and Major Licklickin stand by +the low-lived Abolitionist, and if he says another word, blow out his +Black Republican heart." + +They did so. I was silent. Saccharissa gave me a glance expressive of +continued devotion. So long as I kept her and her hundred thousand +dollars, ($100,000,) I little cared for the assaults of these noisy and +ill-bred persons. + +"Continue, Colonel," said Judge Pyke, severely. + +Plickaman resumed the reading of my friend's letter. + +"Well, Bratley," Deblore went on, "I hope you'll be able to stand Bayou +La Farouche till you're married. I couldn't do it. I roar over your +letters. But I swear I respect your powers of humbug. I suppose, if you +didn't let out to me, you never could lie so to your dear Saccharissa. +Do you know I think you are a little too severe in calling her a mean, +spiteful, slipshod, vulgar, dumpy little flirt?" + +"Read that again!" shrieked Saccharissa. + +"You are beginning to find out your Aminadab!" says Plickaman. + +I moved my lips to deny my name; but the pistol of Billy Sangaree was +at my right temple, the pistol of Major Licklickin at my left. I was +silent, and bore the scornful looks of my persecutors with patience and +dignity. + +Plickaman repeated the sentence. + +"But hear the rest," said he, and read on:-- + +"From what you say of her tinge of African blood and other charming +traits, I have constructed this portrait of the future Mrs. Bratley +Chylde, as the Hottentot Venus. Behold it!" + +And Mellasys held up a highly colored caricature, covering one whole +side of my friend's sheet. + +Saccharissa rose from the sofa where she had been sitting during the +whole of my trial. + +She stood before me,--really I cannot deny it,--a little, ugly, vulgar +figure, overloaded with finery, and her laces and ribbons trembled with +rage. + +She seemed not to be able to speak, and, by way of relieving herself of +her overcharge of wrath, smote me several times on either ear with that +pudgy hand I had so often pressed in mine or tenderly kissed. + +At this exhibition of a resentment I can hardly deem feminine, the +Fire-Eaters roared with laughter and cheered her to continue. A circle +of negroes also, at the window, expressed their amusement at the scene +in the guttural manner of their race. + +I could not refrain from tears at these unhappy exhibitions on the part +of my betrothed. They augured ill for the harmony of our married life. + +"Hit him again, Rissy! he's got no friends," that vulgar Plickaman +urged. + +She again advanced, seized me by the hair, and shook me with greater +muscular force than I should have expected of one of her indolent +habits. Delicacy for her sex of course forbade my offering resistance; +and besides, there were my two sentries, roaring with vulgar laughter, +but holding their pistols with a most unpleasant accuracy of aim at my +head. + +"Saccharissa, my love," I ventured to say, in a pleading tone, "these +momentary ebullitions of a transitory rage will give the bystanders +unfavorable impressions of your temper." + +"You horrid little wretch!" she screeched, "you sneak! you irreligious +infidel! you Black Republican! you Aminadab!"---- + +Here her unnecessary passion choked her, and she took advantage of +the pause to handle my hair with extreme violence. The sensation was +unpleasant, but I began to hope that no worse would befall me, and +I knew that with a few dulcet words in private I could remove from +Saccharissa's mind the asperity induced by my friend's caricature. + +"I leave it to you, gentlemen," said she, "whether I am vulgar, as this +fellow's correspondence asserts." + +"Certainly not," said Judge Pyke. "You are one of the most high-toned +beauties in the sunny South, the land of the magnolia and the papaw." + +"Your dignity," said Major Licklickin, "is only surpassed by your grace, +and both by your queenly calmness." + +The others also gave her the best compliments they could, poor fellows! +I could have taught them what to say. + +Here a grinning negro interrupted with,-- + +"De tar-kittle's a b'ilin' on de keen jump, Mas'r Mellasys." + +"Gentlemen of the Jury," said Judge Pyke, "as you had agreed upon your +verdict before the trial, it is not requisite that you should retire to +consult. Prisoner at the Bar, rise to receive sentence." + +I thought it judicious to fall upon my knees and request forgiveness; +but my persecutors were blinded by what no doubt seemed to them a +religious zeal. + +"Git up!" said Major Licklickin; and I am ashamed, for his sake, to say +that there was an application of boot accompanying this remark. + +"Prisoner," continued my Rhadamanthus, "you have had a fair trial, and +you are found guilty on all the counts of the indictment. First: Of +disloyalty to the South. Second: Of indifference to the Democratic +candidate for the Presidency. Third: Of maligning the character +of Southern patriots in a book intended, no doubt, for universal +circulation through the Northern States. Fourth: Of holding +correspondence with an agent of the Underground Railroad, who, as he +himself avows, has recently run off a nigger to Toronto.--Silence, Sir! +Choke him, Billy Sangaree, if he says a word!--Fifth: Of defaming a +Southern lady, while at the same time you were endeavoring to win her +most attractive property and person from those who should naturally +acquire them. Sixth: Of Agrarianism, Abolitionism, Atheism, and +Infidelity. Prisoner at the Bar, your sentence is, that you be tarred +and cottoned and leave the State. If you are caught again, you will be +hung by the neck, and Henry Ward Beecher have mercy on your soul!" + +I was now marched along by my two sentries to a huge tree, not of the +bandanna species. Beneath it a sugar-kettle filled with ebullient tar +was standing. + +My persecutors, with tranquil brutality, proceeded to disrobe me. As my +nether garments were removed, Mellasys Plickaman succeeded in persuading +Saccharissa to retire. She, however, took her station at a window +and peered through the blinds at the spectacle. I do not envy her +sensations. All her bright visions of fashionable life were destroyed +forever. She would now fall into the society from which I had endeavored +to lift her. Poor thing! knowing, too, that I, and my friend Derby +Deblore, perhaps the most elegant young man in America, regarded her as +a Hottentot Venus. Poor thing! I have no doubt that she longed to rush +out, fling herself at my feet, and pray me to forgive her and reconsider +my verdict of dumpiness and vulgarity. + +Meantime I had been reduced to my shirt and drawers,--excuse the nudity +of my style in stating this fact. Mellasys Plickaman took a ladle-full +of the viscous fluid and poured it over my head. + +"Aminadab," said he, "I baptize thee!" + +I have experienced few sensations more unpleasant than this application. +The tar descended in warm and sluggish streams, trickling over my +forehead, dropping from my eyelids, rolling over my cheeks, sealing my +mouth, gluing my ears to my skull, identifying itself with my hair, +pursuing the path indicated by my spine beneath my shirt,--in short, +enveloping me with a close-fitting armor of a glutinous and most +unsavory material. + +Each of the jury followed the example of my detested rival. In a few +moments the tarring was complete. Few can see themselves mentally or +physically as others see them; but, judging from the remarks made, I am +convinced that I must have afforded an entertaining spectacle to the +party. They roared with laughter, and jeered me. I, however, preserved a +silence discreet, and, I flatter myself, dignified. + +The negroes, particularly those at whose fustigation I had assisted +in the morning, joined in the scoffs of their masters, calling me +Bobolitionist, Black Republican, Liberator, and other nicknames by +which these simple-hearted and contented creatures express dislike and +distrust. + +"Bring the cotton!" now cried Mellasys Plickaman. + +A bag of that regal product was brought. + +"Roll him in it!" said Billy Sangaree. + +"Let the Colonel work his own tricks," Major Licklickin said. "He's an +artist, he is." + +I must admit that he was an artist. He fabricated me an elaborate wig of +the cotton. He arranged me a pair of bushy white eyebrows. He stuck +a venerable beard upon my chin, and a moustache upon my lip. Then he +proceeded to indicate my ribs with lines of cotton, and to cap my +shoulders with epaulets. It would be long to describe the fantastic +tricks he played with me amid the loud laughter of his crew. + +Occasionally, also, I heard suppressed giggles from Saccharissa at the +window. + +I have no doubt that I should have strangled my late _fiancée_, if such +an act had been consistent with my personal safety. + +When I was completely cottoned, in the decorative manner I have +described, Mellasys took a banjo from an old negro, and, striking it, +not without a certain unsophisticated and barbaric grace appropriate to +the instrument, commanded me to dance. + +I essayed to do so. But my heart was heavy; consequently my heels were +not light. My faint attempts at pirouettes were not satisfactory. + +"Dance jollier, or we'll hang you," said Plickaman. + +"No," says Judge Pyke,--"the sentence of the Court has been executed. +In the sacred name of Justice I protest against proceeding farther. +Culprit," continued he, in a voice of thunder, "cut for the North Star, +and here's passage-money for you." + +He stuck a half-eagle into the tarry integument of my person. Billy +Sangaree, Major Licklickin, and others of the more inebriated, imitated +him. My dignity of bearing had evidently made a favorable impression. + +I departed amid cheers, some ironical, some no doubt sincere. But to the +last, these chivalric, but prejudiced and misguided gentlemen declined +to listen to my explanations. Mellasys Plickaman had completely +perverted their judgments against me. + +The last object I saw was Saccharissa, looking more like a Hottentot +Venus than ever, waving her handkerchief and kissing her hand to me. Did +she repent her brief disloyalty? For a moment I thought so, and resolved +to lie in wait, return by night, and urge her to fly with me. But while +I hesitated, Mellasys Plickaman drew near her. She threw herself into +his arms, and there, before all the Committee of Fire-Eaters of Bayou La +Farouche, she kissed him with those amorphous lips I had often compelled +myself to taste. Faugh! + +I deemed this scene a token that my engagement was absolutely +terminated. + +There was no longer any reason why I should degrade myself by remaining +in this vulgar society. I withdrew into the thickets of the adjoining +wood and there for a time abandoned myself to melancholy reminiscences. + +Presently I heard footsteps. I turned and saw a black approaching, +bearing the homely viand known as corn-dodger. He offered it. I accepted +it as a tribute from the inferior race to the superior. + +I recognized him as one whose fustigation had so revived my crapulous +spirits in the morning. He seemed to bear no malice. Malignity is +perhaps a mark of more highly developed character. I, for example, +possess it to a considerable degree. + +The black led me to a lair in the wood. He took my half-eagles from my +tar. He scraped and cleansed me by simple methods of which he had the +secret. He clothed me in rude garments. Gunny-bag was, I think, the +material. He gave me his own shoes. The heels were elongated; but this +we remedied by a stuffing of leaves. He conducted me toward the banks of +Bayou La Farouche. + +On our way, we were compelled to pass not far from the Mellasys mansion. +There was a sound of revelry. It was night. I crept cautiously up and +peered into the window. + +There stood the Reverend Onesimus Butterfut, since a prominent candidate +for the archbishopric of the Southern Confederacy. Saccharissa, more +over-dressed than usual, and her cousin Mellasys Plickaman, somewhat +unsteady with inebriation, stood before him. He was pronouncing them man +and wife,--why not ogre and hag? + +How fortunate was my escape! + +As my negro guide would not listen to my proposal to set the Mellasys +establishment on fire while the inmates slept, I followed him to the +banks of the Bayou. He provided me with abundant store of the homely +food already alluded to. He launched me in a vessel; known to some as +a dug-out, to some as a gundalow. His devotion was really touching. +It convinced me more profoundly than ever of the canine fidelity and +semi-animal characteristics of his race. + +I floated down the Bayou. I was picked up by a cotton-ship in the Gulf. +I officiated as assistant to the cook on the homeward voyage. + +At the urgent solicitation of my mother, I condescended, on my return, +to accept a situation in my Uncle Bratley's cracker-bakery. The business +is not aristocratic. But what business is? I cannot draw the line +between the baker of hard tack--such is the familiar term we employ--and +the seller of the material for our product, by the barrel or the cargo. +From the point of view of a Chylde, all avocations for the making of +money seem degrading, and only the spending is dignified. + +As my conduct during the Mellasys affair has been maligned and scoffed +at by persons of crude views of what is _comme il faut_, I have drawn up +this statement, confident that it will justify me to all of my order, +which I need not state is distinctively that of the Aristocrat and the +Gentleman. + + + + +MY ODD ADVENTURE WITH JUNIUS BRUTUS BOOTH. + + +More than twenty years ago, being pastor of a church in one of our +Western cities, I was sitting, one evening, meditating over my coal +fire, which was cheerfully blazing up and gloomily subsiding again, in +the way that Western coal fires in Western coal grates were then very +much in the habit of doing. I was a young, and inexperienced minister. +I had come to the West, fresh from a New England divinity-school, with +magnificent ideas of the vast work which was to be done, and with rather +a vague notion of the way in which I was to do it. My views of the West +were chiefly derived from two books, both of which are now obsolete. +When a child, with the omnivorous reading propensity of children, I had +perused a thin, pale octavo, which stood on the shelves of our library, +containing the record of a journey by the Rev. Thaddeus Mason Harris, of +Dorchester, from Massachusetts to Marietta, Ohio. Allibone, whom nothing +escapes, gives the title of the book, "Journal of a Tour into the +Territory Northwest of the Allegheny Mountains in 1803, Boston, 1805." +That a man should write an octavo volume about a journey to Marietta now +strikes us as rather absurd; but in those days the overland journey to +Ohio was as difficult as that to California is now. The other book was a +more important one, being Timothy Flint's "Ten Years' Recollections +of the Mississippi Valley," published in 1826. Mr. Flint was a man of +sensibility and fancy, a sharp observer, and an interesting writer. His +book opened the West to us in its scenery and in its human interest. + +I was sitting in my somewhat lonely position, watching my coal fire, and +thinking of the friends I had left on the other side of the mountains. +I had not succeeded as I had hoped in my work. I came to the West +expecting to meet with opposition, and I found only indifference. I +expected infidelity, and found worldliness. I had around me a company +of good Christian friends, but they were no converts of mine; they were +from New England, like myself, and brought their religion with them. +Upon the real Western people I had made no impression, and could not see +how I should make any. Those who were religious seemed to be bigots; +those who were not religious cared apparently more for making money, for +politics, for horseracing, for duelling, than for the difference between +Homoousians and Homoiousians. They were very fond of good preaching, but +their standard was a little different from that I had been accustomed +to. A solid, meditative, carefully written sermon had few attractions +for them. They would go to hear our great New England divines on account +of their reputation, but they would run in crowds to listen to John +Newland Maffit. What they wanted, as one of them expressed it, was "an +eloquent divine and no common orator." They liked sentiment run out into +sentimentalism, fluency, point, plenty of illustration, and knock-down +argument. How could a poor boy, fresh from the groves of our Academy, +where Good Taste reigned supreme, and where to learn how to manage one's +voice was regarded as a sin against sincerity, how could he meet such +demands as these? + +I was more discouraged than I need to have been; for, after all, the +resemblances in human beings are more than their differences. The +differences are superficial,--the resemblances radical. Everywhere men +like, in a Christian minister, the same things,--sincerity, earnestness, +and living Christianity. Mere words may please, but not long. Men differ +in taste about the form of the cup out of which they drink this wine of +Divine Truth, but they agree in their thirst for the same wine. + +But to my story. + +I was sitting, therefore, meditating somewhat sadly, when a knock came +at the door. On opening it, a negro boy, with grinning face, presented +himself, holding a note. The great fund of good-humor which God has +bestowed on the African race often makes them laugh when we see no +occasion for laughter. Any event, no matter what it is, seems to them +amusing. So this boy laughed merely because he had brought me a note, +and not because there was anything peculiarly amusing in the message +which the note contained. It is true that you sometimes meet a +melancholy negro. But such, I fancy, have some foreign blood in +them,--they are not Africans _pur sang_. The race is so essentially +joyful, that centuries of oppression and hardship cannot depress its +good spirits. It is cheerful in spite of slavery, and in spite of cruel +prejudice. + +The note the boy brought me did not seem adapted to furnish much +provocation for laughter. It was as follows:-- + +"_United States Hotel_, Jan. 4th, 1834. + +"SIR,--I hope you will excuse the liberty of a stranger addressing you +on a subject he feels great interest in. It is to require a place of +interment for his friend[s] in the church-yard, and also the expense +attendant on the purchase of such place of temporary repose. + +"Your communication on this matter will greatly oblige, + +"Sir, + +"Your respectful and + +"Obedient Servant, + +"J.B. BOOTH." + +It will be observed that after the word "friend" an [s] follows in +brackets. In the original the word was followed by a small mark which +might or might not give it the plural form. It could be read either +"friend" or "friends"; but as we do not usually find ourselves called +upon to bury more than one friend at a time, the hasty reader would +not notice the mark, but would read it "friend." So did I; and only +afterward, in consequence of the _dénouement_, did I notice that it +might be read in the other way. + +Taking my hat, I stepped into the street. Gas in those days was not; +an occasional lantern, swung on a wire across the intersection of the +streets, reminded us that the city was once French, and suggested the +French Revolution and the cry, "_À la lanterne!_" First I went to my +neighbor, the mayor of the city, in pursuit of the desired information. +A jolly mayor was he,--a Yankee melted down into a Western man, +thoroughly Westernized by a rough-and-tumble life in Kentucky during +many years. Being obliged to hold a mayor's court every day, and knowing +very little of law, his chief study was, as he expressed it, "how to +choke off the Kentucky lawyers." Mr. Mayor not being at home, I turned +next to the office of another naturalized Yankee,--a Yankee naturalized, +but never Westernized. He was one of those who do not change their mind +with their sky, who, exiled from the dear hills of New England, can +never get away from the inborn, inherent Yankee. He was a Plymouth man, +and religiously preserved every opinion, habit, and accent which he had +brought from Plymouth Rock. When Kentucky was madly Democratic and wept +over the dead Jefferson as over her saint, he had expressed the opinion +that it would have been well for the country, if he had died long +before,--for which expression he came near being lynched. He was the +most unpopular and the most indispensable man in the city,--they could +live neither with him nor without him. He founded and organized the +insurance companies, the public schools, the charitable associations, +the great canal, the banking-system,--in short, all Yankee institutions. +The city was indebted to him for much of its prosperity, but disliked +him while it respected him. For he spared no Western prejudice; he +remorselessly criticized everything that was not done as Yankees do it: +and the most provoking thing of all was that he never made a mistake; he +was always right. + +Finding no one at home, and so not being able to learn about the price +of lots in the church-yard, I walked on to the hotel, and asked to see +Mr. J.B. Booth. I was shown into a private parlor, where he and another +gentleman were sitting by a table. On the table were candles, a decanter +of wine, and glasses, a plate of bread, cigars, and a book. Mr. Booth +rose when I announced myself, and I at once recognized the distinguished +actor. I had met him once before, and travelled with him for part of a +day. He was a short man, but one of those who seem tall when they choose +to do so. He had a clear blue eye and fair complexion. In repose +there was nothing to attract attention to him; but when excited, his +expression was so animated, his eye was so brilliant, and his figure so +full of life, that he became another man. + +Having told him that I had not been successful in procuring the +information he desired, but would bring it to him on the following +morning, he thanked me, and asked me to sit down. It passed through my +mind, that, as he had lost a friend and was a stranger in the place, I +might be of use to him. Perhaps he needed consolation, and it was my +office to sympathize with the bereaved. So I sat down. But it did not +appear that he was disposed to seek for such comfort, or engage in such +discourse. Once or twice I endeavored, but without success, to turn +the conversation to his presumed loss. I asked him if the death of his +friend was sudden. + +"Very," he replied. + +"Was he a relative?" + +"Distant," said he, and changed the subject. + +It is twenty-seven years since these events took place, and I do not +pretend to give the conversation very accurately, but what occurred was +very much like this. It was a dialogue between Booth and myself, the +third party saying not a word during the evening. Mr. Booth first asked +me to take a glass of wine, or a cigar, both of which I declined. + +"Well," said he, "let me try to entertain you in another way. When you +came in, I was reading aloud to my friend. Perhaps you would like to +hear me read." + +"I certainly should," said I. + +"What shall I read?" + +"Whatever you like best. What you like to read I shall like to hear." + +"Then suppose I attempt Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner'? Have you time for +it? It is long." + +"Yes, I should like it much." + +So he read aloud the whole of this magnificent poem. I have listened to +Macready, to Edmund Kean, to Rachel, to Jenny Lind, to Fanny Kemble,--to +Webster, Clay, Everett, Harrison Gray Otis,--to Dr. Channing, Henry +Ward Beecher, Wendell Phillips, Father Taylor, Ralph Waldo Emerson,--to +Victor Hugo, Coquerel, Lacordaire; but none of them affected me as I was +affected by this reading. I forgot the place where I was, the motive of +my coming, the reader himself. I knew the poem almost by heart, yet I +seemed never to have heard it before. I was by the side of the doomed +mariner. I was the wedding-guest, listening to his story, held by his +glittering eye. I was with him in the storm, among the ice, beneath +the hot and copper sky. Booth became so absorbed in his reading, so +identified with the poem, that his tone and manner were saturated with +a feeling of reality. He actually thought himself the mariner,--so I am +persuaded,--while he was reading. As the poem proceeded, and we plunged +deeper and deeper into its mystic horrors, the actual world receded +into a dim, indefinable distance. The magnetism of this marvellous +interpreter had caught up himself, and me with him, into Dreamland, from +which we gently descended at the end of Part VI., and "the spell was +snapt." + + "And now, all in my own countree, + I stood on the firm land,"-- + +returned from a voyage into the inane. Again I found myself sitting in +the little hotel parlor, by the side of a man with glittering eye, with +a third somebody on the other side of the table. + +I drew a long breath. + +Booth turned over the leaves of the volume. It was the collected Works +of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats. + +"Did you ever read," said he, "Shelley's argument against the use of +animal food, at the end of 'Queen Mab'?" + +"Yes, I have read it." + +"And what do you think of the argument?" + +"Ingenious, but not satisfactory." + +"To me it _is_ satisfactory. I have long been convinced that it is wrong +to take the life of an animal for our pleasure. I eat no animal food. +There is my supper,"--pointing to the plate of bread. "And, indeed," +continued he, "I think the Bible favors this view. Have you a Bible with +you?" + +I had not. + +Booth thereupon rang the bell, and when the boy presented himself, +called for a Bible. _Garçon_ disappeared, and came back soon with a +Bible on a waiter. + +Our tragedian took the book, and proceeded to argue his point by means +of texts selected skilfully here and there, from Genesis to Revelation. +He referred to the fact that it was not till after the Deluge men were +allowed, "for the hardness of their hearts," as he maintained, to eat +meat. But in the beginning it was not so; only herbs were given to man, +at first, for food. He quoted the Psalmist (Psalm civ. 14) to show that +man's food came from the earth, and was the green herb; and contended +that the reason why Daniel and his friends were fairer and fatter than +the children who ate their portion of meat was that they ate only pulse +(Daniel i. 12-15). These are all of his Scriptural arguments which I now +recall; but I thought them very ingenious at the time. + +The argument took some time. Then he recited one or two pieces bearing +on the same subject, closing with Byron's Lines to his Newfoundland Dog. + +"In connection with that poem," he continued, "a singular event once +happened to me. I was acting in Petersburg, Virginia. My theatrical +engagement was just concluded, and I dined with a party of friends +one afternoon before going away. We sat after dinner, singing songs, +reciting poetry, and relating anecdotes. At last I recited those lines +of Byron on his dog. I was sitting by the fireplace, my feet resting +against the jamb, and a single candle was burning on the mantel. It had +become dark. Just as I came to the end of the poem,-- + + "'To mark a friend's remains these stones arise, + I never knew but one, and here he lies,'-- + +"my foot slipped down the jamb, and struck a _dog_, who was lying +beneath. The dog sprang up, howled, and ran out of the room, and at the +same moment the candle went out. I asked whose dog it was. No one knew. +No one had seen the dog till that moment. Perhaps you will smile at me, +Sir, and think me superstitious,--but I could not but think that the +animal was brought there by _occult sympathy_." + +Having uttered these oracular words in a very solemn tone, Booth rose, +and, taking one of the candles, said to me, "Would you like to look at +the remains?" + +I assented. Asking our silent friend to excuse us, he led me into an +adjoining chamber. I looked toward a bed in the corner of the room, +expecting to see a corpse. There was none there. But Booth went to +another corner of the room, where, spread out upon a large sheet, I +saw--what do you suppose, dear reader? + +_About a bushel of Wild Pigeons!_ + +Booth knelt down by the side of the birds, and with every evidence of +sincere affliction began to mourn over them. He took them up in his +hands tenderly, and pressed them to his heart. For a few moments he +seemed to forget my presence. For this I was glad, for it gave me a +little time to recover from my astonishment, and to consider rapidly +what it might mean. As I look back now, and think of the oddity of +the situation, I rather wonder at my own self-possession. It was a +sufficiently trying position. At first I thought it was a hoax, an +intentional piece of practical fun, of which I was to be the object. But +even in the moment allowed me to think, I decided that this could not +be. For I recalled the long and elaborate Bible argument against taking +the life of animals, which could hardly have been got up for the +occasion. I considered also that as a joke it would be too poor in +itself, and too unworthy a man like Booth. So I decided that it was a +sincere conviction,--an idea, exaggerated perhaps to the borders of +monomania, of the sacredness of all life. And I determined to treat +the conviction with respect, as all sincere and religious convictions +deserve to be treated. + +I also saw the motive for this particular course of action. During the +week immense quantities of the Wild Pigeon (Passenger Pigeon, _Columba +Migratoria_) had been flying over the city, in their way to and from +a _roost_ in the neighborhood. These birds had been slaughtered by +myriads, and were for sale by the bushel at the corners of every street +in the city. Although all the birds which could be killed by man made +the smallest impression on the vast multitude contained in one of these +flocks,--computed by Wilson to consist of more than twenty-two hundred +millions,--yet to Booth the destruction seemed wasteful, wanton, and +from his point of view was a wilful and barbarous murder. + +Such a sentiment was perhaps an exaggeration; still I could not but +feel a certain sympathy with its humanity. It was an error in a good +direction. If an insanity, it was better than the cold, heartless sanity +of most men. By the time, therefore, that Booth was ready to speak, I +was prepared to answer. + +"You see," said he, "these innocent victims of man's barbarity. I wish +to testify in some public way against this wanton destruction of life. +And I wish you to help me. Will you?" + +"Hardly," I replied. "I expected something very different from this, +when I received your note. I did not come to see you expecting to be +called to assist at the funeral solemnities of birds." + +"Nor did I send for you," he answered. "I merely wrote to ask about the +lot in the grave-yard. But now you are here, why not help me? Do you +fear the laugh of man?" + +"No," I returned. "If I agreed with you in regard to this subject, I +might, perhaps, have the courage to act out my convictions. But I do +not look at it as you do. There is no reason, then, why I should have +anything to do with it. I respect your convictions, but do not share +them." + +"That is fair," he said. "I cannot ask anything more. I am obliged to +you for coming to see me. My intention was to purchase a place in the +burial-ground, and have them put into a coffin and carried in a hearse. +I might do it without any one's knowing that it was not a human body. +Would you assist me, then?" + +"But if no one _knew_ it," I said, "how would it be a public testimony +against the destruction of life?" + +"True, it would not. Well, I will consider what to do. Perhaps I may +wish to bury them privately in some garden." + +"In that case," said I, "I will find you a place in the grounds of some +of my friends." + +He thanked me, and I took my leave,--exceedingly astonished and amused +by the incident, but also interested in the earnestness of conviction of +the man. + +I heard, in a day or two, that he had actually purchased a lot in the +cemetery, two or three miles below the city, that he had had a coffin +made, hired a hearse and carriage, and had gone through all the +solemnity of a regular funeral. For several days he continued to visit +the grave of his little friends, and mourned over them with a grief +which did not seem at all theatrical. + +Meantime he acted every night at the theatre, and my friends told me +that his acting was of unsurpassed excellence. A vein of insanity began, +however, to mingle in his conduct. His fellow-actors were afraid of +him. He looked terribly in earnest on the stage; and when he went behind +the scenes, he spoke to no one, but sat still, looking sternly at the +ground. During the day he walked about town, giving apples to the +horses, and talked to the drivers, urging them to treat their animals +with kindness. + +An incident happened, one day, which illustrated still further his +sympathy for the humbler races of animals. One of the sudden freshets +which come to the Ohio, caused commonly by heavy rains melting the snow +in the valleys of its tributary streams, had raised the river to an +unusual height. The yellow torrent rushed along its channel, bearing +on its surface logs, boards, and the _debris_ of fences, shanties, and +lumber-yards. A steamboat, forced by the rapid current against the stone +landing, had been stove, and lay a wreck on the bottom, with the water +rising rapidly around it. A horse had been left, fastened on the boat, +and it looked as if he would be drowned. Booth was on the landing, and +he took from his pocket twenty dollars, and offered it to any one who +would get to the boat and cut the halter, so that the horse might swim +ashore. Some one was found to do it, and the horse's life was saved. + +So this golden thread of human sympathy with all creatures whom God had +made ran through the darkening moods of his genius. He had well laid to +heart the fine moral of his favorite poem,--that + + "He prayeth well, who loveth well + Both man, and bird, and beast. + + "He prayeth best, who loveth best + All things, both great and small; + For the dear God, who loveth us, + He made and loveth all." + +In a week or less the tendency to derangement in Booth became more +developed. One night, when he was to act, he did not appear; nor could +he be found at his lodgings. He did not come home that night. Next +morning he was found in the woods, several miles from the city, +wandering through the snow. He was taken care of. His derangement proved +to be temporary, and his reason returned in a few days. He soon left the +city. But before he went away he sent to me the following note, which I +copy from the original faded paper, now lying before me:-- + +"--_Theatre_, + +"January 18, 1834. + +"MY DEAR SIR, + +"Allow me to return you my grateful acknowledgments for your prompt and +benevolent attention to my request last Wednesday night. Although I am +convinced _your_ ideas and _mine_ thoroughly coincide as to the _real_ +cause of man's bitter degradation, yet I fear human means to redeem him +are now fruitless. The Fire must burn, and Prometheus endure his agony. +The Pestilence of Asia must come again, ere the savage will be taught +humanity. May _you_ escape! God bless you, Sir! + +"J.B. BOOTH." + +Certainly I may call this "an odd adventure" for a young minister, +less than six months in his profession. But it left in my mind a very +pleasant impression of this great tragedian. It may be asked why he came +to me, the youngest and newest clergyman in the place. The reason he +gave me himself. I was a Unitarian. He said he had more sympathy with me +on that account, as he was of Jewish descent, and a Monotheist. + + + + +MY OUT-DOOR STUDY. + + +The noontide of the summer-day is past, when all Nature slumbers, and +when the ancients feared to sing, lest the great god Pan should be +awakened. Soft changes, the gradual shifting of every shadow on every +leaf, begin to show the waning hours. Ineffectual thunder-storms have +gathered and gone by, hopelessly defeated. The floating-bridge is +trembling and resounding beneath the pressure of one heavy wagon, and +the quiet fishermen change their places to avoid the tiny ripple that +glides stealthily to their feet above the half-submerged planks. Down +the glimmering lake there are miles of silence and still waters and +green shores, overhung with a multitudinous and scattered fleet of +purple and golden clouds, now furling their idle sails and drifting away +into the vast harbor of the South. Voices of birds, hushed first by +noon and then by possibilities of tempest, cautiously begin once more, +leading on the infinite melodies of the June afternoon. As the freshened +air invites them forth, so the smooth and stainless water summons us. +"Put your hand upon the oar," says Charon in the old play to Bacchus, +"and you shall hear the sweetest songs." The doors of the boathouse +swing softly open, and the slender wherry, like a water-snake, steals +silently in the wake of the dispersing clouds. + +The woods are hazy, as if the warm sunbeams had melted in among the +interstices of the foliage and spread a soft film throughout the whole. +The sky seems to reflect the water, and the water the sky; both are +roseate with color, both are darkened with clouds, and between them +both, as the boat recedes, the floating-bridge hangs suspended, with its +motionless fishermen and its moving team. The wooded islands are poised +upon the lake, each belted with a paler tint of softer wave. The air +seems fine and palpitating; the drop of an oar in a distant row-lock, +the sound of a hammer on a dismantled boat, pass into some region of +mist and shadows, and form a metronome for delicious dreams. + +Every summer I launch my boat to seek some realm of enchantment beyond +all the sordidness and sorrow of earth, and never yet did I fail to +ripple with my prow at least the outskirts of those magic waters. What +spell has fame or wealth to enrich this midday blessedness with a joy +the more? Yonder barefoot boy, as he drifts silently in his punt beneath +the drooping branches of yonder vine-clad bank, has a bliss which no +Astor can buy with money, no Seward conquer with votes,--which yet is +no monopoly of his, and to which time and experience only add a more +subtile and conscious charm. The rich years were given us to increase, +not to impair, these cheap felicities. Sad or sinful is the life of +that man who finds not the heavens bluer and the waves more musical in +maturity than in childhood. Time is a severe alembic of youthful joys, +no doubt; we exhaust book after book and leave Shakespeare unopened; we +grow fastidious in men and women; all the rhetoric, all the logic, we +fancy we have heard before; we have seen the pictures, we have listened +to the symphonies: but what has been done by all the art and literature +of the world towards describing one summer day? The most exhausting +effort brings us no nearer to it than to the blue sky which is its dome; +our words are shot up against it like arrows, and fall back helpless. +Literary amateurs go the tour of the globe to renew their stock of +materials, when they do not yet know a bird or a bee or a blossom beside +their homestead-door; and in the hour of their greatest success they +have not an horizon to their life so large as that of yon boy in his +punt. All that is purchasable in the capitals of the world is not to be +weighed in comparison with the simple enjoyment that may be crowded into +one hour of sunshine. What can place or power do here? "Who could be +before me, though the palace of Caesar cracked and split with emperors, +while I, sitting in silence on a cliff of Rhodes, watched the sun as he +swung his golden censer athwart the heavens?" + +It is pleasant to observe a sort of confused and latent recognition of +all this in the instinctive sympathy which is always rendered to any +indication of out-door pursuits. How cordially one sees the eyes of +all travellers turn to the man who enters the railroad-station with +a fowling-piece in hand, or the boy with water-lilies! There is a +momentary sensation of the freedom of the woods, a whiff of oxygen for +the anxious money-changers. How agreeably sounds the news--to all +but his creditors--that the lawyer or the merchant has locked his +office-door and gone fishing! The American temperament needs at this +moment nothing so much as that wholesome training of semi-rural life +which reared Hampden and Cromwell to assume at one grasp the sovereignty +of England, and which has ever since served as the foundation of +England's greatest ability. The best thoughts and purposes seem ordained +to come to human beings beneath the open sky, as the ancients fabled +that Pan found the goddess Ceres when he was engaged in the chase, whom +no other of the gods could find when seeking seriously. The little I +have gained from colleges and libraries has certainly not worn so well +as the little I learned in childhood of the habits of plant, bird, and +insect. That "weight and sanity of thought," which Coleridge so finely +makes the crowning attribute of Wordsworth, is in no way so well matured +and cultivated as in the society of Nature. + +There may be extremes and affectations, and Mary Lamb declared that +Wordsworth held it doubtful if a dweller in towns had a soul to be +saved. During the various phases of transcendental idealism among +ourselves, in the last twenty years, the love of Nature has at times +assumed an exaggerated and even a pathetic aspect, in the morbid +attempts of youths and maidens to make it a substitute for vigorous +thought and action,--a lion endeavoring to dine on grass and green +leaves. In some cases this mental chlorosis reached such a height as +almost to nauseate one with Nature, when in the society of the victims; +and surfeited companions felt inclined to rush to the treadmill +immediately, or get chosen on the Board of Selectmen, or plunge into any +conceivable drudgery, in order to feel that there was still work enough +in the universe to keep it sound and healthy. But this, after all, was +exceptional and transitory, and our American life still needs, beyond +all things else, the more habitual cultivation of out-door habits. + +Probably the direct ethical influence of natural objects may be +overrated. Nature is not didactic, but simply healthy. She helps +everything to its legitimate development, but applies no goads, and +forces on us no sharp distinctions. Her wonderful calmness, refreshing +the whole soul, must aid both conscience and intellect in the end, but +sometimes lulls both temporarily, when immediate issues are pending. The +waterfall cheers and purifies infinitely, but it marks no moments, has +no reproaches for indolence, forces to no immediate decision, offers +unbounded to-morrows, and the man of action must tear himself away, when +the time comes, since the work will not be done for him. "The natural +day is very calm, and will hardly reprove our indolence." + +And yet the more bent any man is upon action, the more profoundly he +needs the calm lessons of Nature to preserve his equilibrium. The +radical himself needs nothing so much as fresh air. The world is called +conservative; but it is far easier to impress a plausible thought on the +complaisance of others than to retain an unfaltering faith in it for +ourselves. The most dogged reformer distrusts himself every little +while, and says inwardly, like Luther, "Art thou alone wise?" So he is +compelled to exaggerate, in the effort to hold his own. The community is +bored by the conceit and egotism of the innovators; so it is by that of +poets and artists, orators and statesmen; but if we knew how heavily +ballasted all these poor fellows need to be, to keep an even keel amid +so many conflicting tempests of blame and praise, we should hardly +reproach them. But the simple enjoyments of out-door life, costing next +to nothing, tend to equalize all vexations. What matter, if the Governor +removes you from office? he cannot remove you from the lake; and if +readers or customers will not bite, the pickerel will. We must keep +busy, of course; yet we cannot transform the world except very slowly, +and we can best preserve our patience in the society of Nature, who does +her work almost as imperceptibly as we. + +And for literary training, especially, the influence of natural beauty +is simply priceless Under the present educational systems, we need +grammars and languages far less than a more thorough out-door experience. +On this flowery bank, on this ripple-marked shore, are the true literary +models. How many living authors have ever attained to writing a single +page which could be for one moment compared, for the simplicity and +grace of its structure, with this green spray of wild woodbine or yonder +white wreath of blossoming clematis? A finely organized sentence should +throb and palpitate like the most delicate vibrations of the summer +air. We talk of literature as if it were a mere matter of rule and +measurement, a series of processes long since brought to mechanical +perfection: but it would be less incorrect to say that it all lies +in the future; tried by the out-door standard, there is as yet no +literature, but only glimpses and guideboards; no writer has yet +succeeded in sustaining, through more than some single occasional +sentence, that fresh and perfect charm. If by the training of a lifetime +one could succeed in producing one continuous page of perfect cadence, +it would be a life well spent, and such a literary artist would fall +short of Nature's standard in quantity only, not in quality. + +It is one sign of our weakness, also, that we commonly assume Nature to +be a rather fragile and merely ornamental thing, and suited for a model +of the graces only. But her seductive softness is the last climax of +magnificent strength. The same mathematical law winds the leaves around +the stem and the planets round the sun. The same law of crystallization +rules the slight-knit snow-flake and the hard foundations of the earth. +The thistle-down floats secure upon the same summer zephyrs that are +woven into the tornado. The dew-drop holds within its transparent cell +the same electric fire which charges the thunder-cloud. In the softest +tree or the airiest waterfall, the fundamental lines are as lithe and +muscular as the crouching haunches of a leopard; and without a pencil +vigorous enough to render these, no mere mass of foam or foliage, +however exquisitely finished, can tell the story. Lightness of touch is +the crowning test of power. + +Yet Nature does not work by single spasms only. That chestnut spray is +not an isolated and exhaustive effort of creative beauty: look upward +and see its sisters rise with pile above pile of fresh and stately +verdure, till tree meets sky in a dome of glorious blossom, the whole as +perfect as the parts, the least part as perfect as the whole. Studying +the details, it seems as if Nature were a series of costly fragments +with no coherency,--as if she would never encourage us to do anything +systematically, would tolerate no method but her own, and yet had none +of her own,--were as abrupt in her transitions from oak to maple as +the heroine who went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf to make an +apple-pie; while yet there is no conceivable human logic so close +and inexorable as her connections. How rigid, how flexible are, for +instance, the laws of perspective! If one could learn to make his +statements as firm and unswerving as the horizon-line,--his continuity +of thought as marked, yet as unbroken, as yonder soft gradations by +which the eye is lured upward from lake to wood, from wood to hill, from +hill to heavens,--what more bracing tonic could literary culture demand? +As it is, Art misses the parts, yet does not grasp the whole. + +Literature also learns from Nature the use of materials: either to +select only the choicest and rarest, or to transmute coarse to fine by +skill in using. How perfect is the delicacy with which the woods and +fields are kept, throughout the year! All these millions of living +creatures born every season, and born to die; yet where are the dead +bodies? We never see them. Buried beneath the earth by tiny nightly +sextons, sunk beneath the waters, dissolved into the air, or distilled +again and again as food for other organizations,--all have had their +swift resurrection. Their existence blooms again in these violet-petals, +glitters in the burnished beauty of these golden beetles, or enriches +the veery's song. It is only out of doors that even death and decay +become beautiful. The model farm, the most luxurious house, have their +regions of unsightliness; but the fine chemistry of Nature is constantly +clearing away all its impurities before our eyes, and yet so delicately +that we never suspect the process. The most exquisite work of literary +art exhibits a certain crudeness and coarseness, when we turn to it from +Nature,--as the smallest cambric needle appears rough and jagged, +when compared through the magnifier with the tapering fineness of the +insect's sting. + +Once separated from Nature, literature recedes into metaphysics, or +dwindles into novels. How ignoble seems the current material of London +literary life, for instance, compared with the noble simplicity which, a +half-century ago, made the Lake Country an enchanted land forever! Is +it worth a voyage to England to sup with Thackeray in the Pot Tavern? +Compare the "enormity of pleasure" which De Quincey says Wordsworth +derived from the simplest natural object with the serious protest of +Wilkie Collins against the affectation of caring about Nature at all. +"Is it not strange", says this most unhappy man, "to see how little real +hold the objects of the natural world amidst which we live can gain on +our hearts and minds? We go to Nature for comfort in joy and sympathy +in trouble, only in books.... What share have the attractions of Nature +ever had in the pleasurable or painful interests and emotions of +ourselves or our friends?... There is surely a reason for this want of +inborn sympathy between the creature and the creation around it." + +Leslie says of "the most original landscape-painter he knew," meaning +Constable, that, whenever he sat down in the fields to sketch, he +endeavored to forget that he had ever seen a picture. In literature this +is easy, the descriptions are so few and so faint. When Wordsworth was +fourteen, he stopped one day by the wayside to observe the dark outline +of an oak against the western sky; and he says that he was at that +moment struck with "the infinite variety of natural appearances which +had been unnoticed by the poets of any age or country," so far as he was +acquainted with them, and "made a resolution to supply in some degree +the deficiency." He spent a long life in studying and telling these +beautiful wonders; and yet, so vast is the sum of them, they seem almost +as undescribed before, and men to be still as content with vague or +conventional representations. On this continent, especially, people +fancied that all must be tame and second-hand, everything long since +duly analyzed and distributed and put up in appropriate quotations, and +nothing left for us poor American children but a preoccupied universe. +And yet Thoreau camps down by Walden Pond and shows us that absolutely +nothing in Nature has ever yet been described,--not a bird nor a berry +of the woods, nor a drop of water, nor a spicula of ice, nor summer, nor +winter, nor sun, nor star. + +Indeed, no person can portray Nature from any slight or transient +acquaintance. A reporter cannot step out between the sessions of a +caucus and give a racy abstract of the landscape. It may consume the +best hours of many days to certify for one's self the simplest out-door +fact, but every such piece of knowledge is intellectually worth the +time. Even the driest and barest book of Natural History is good and +nutritious, so far as it goes, if it represents genuine acquaintance; +one can find summer in January by poring over the Latin catalogues +of Massachusetts plants and animals in Hitchcock's Report. The most +commonplace out-door society has the same attraction. Every one of those +old outlaws who haunt our New England ponds and marshes, water-soaked +and soakers of something else,--intimate with the pure fluid in that +familiarity which breeds contempt,--has yet a wholesome side when you +explore his knowledge of frost and freshet, pickerel and musk-rat, and +is exceedingly good company while you can keep him beyond scent of the +tavern. Any intelligent farmer's boy can give you some narrative +of out-door observation which, so far as it goes, fulfils Milton's +definition of poetry, "simple, sensuous, passionate." He may not write +sonnets to the lake, but he will walk miles to bathe in it; he may not +notice the sunsets, but he knows where to search for the black-bird's +nest. How surprised the school-children looked, to be sure, when the +Doctor of Divinity from the city tried to sentimentalize, in addressing +them, about "the bobolink in the woods"! They knew that the darling of +the meadow had no more personal acquaintance with the woods than was +exhibited by the preacher. + +But the preachers are not much worse than the authors. The prosaic +Buckle, to be sure, admits that the poets have in all time been +consummate observers, and that their observations have been as valuable +as those of the men of science; and yet we look even to the poets +for very casual and occasional glimpses of Nature only, not for any +continuous reflection of her glory. Thus, Chaucer is perfumed with early +spring; Homer resounds like the sea; in the Greek Anthology the sun +always shines on the fisherman's cottage by the beach; we associate the +Vishnu Purana with lakes and houses, Keats with nightingales in forest +dim, while the long grass waving on the lonely heath is the last +memorial of the fading fame of Ossian. Of course Shakspeare's +omniscience included all natural phenomena; but the rest, great or +small, associate themselves with some special aspects, and not with the +daily atmosphere. Coming to our own times, one must quarrel with Ruskin +as taking rather the artist's view of Nature, selecting the available +bits and dealing rather patronizingly with the whole; and one is tempted +to charge even Emerson, as he somewhere charges Wordsworth, with not +being of a temperament quite liquid and musical enough to admit the full +vibration of the great harmonics. The three human foster-children who +have been taken nearest into Nature's bosom, perhaps,--an odd triad, +surely, for the whimsical nursing mother to select,--are Wordsworth, +Bettine Brentano, and Thoreau. Is it yielding to an individual +preference too far, to say, that there seems almost a generic difference +between these three and any others,--however wide be the specific +differences among themselves,--to say that, after all, they in their +several paths have attained to an habitual intimacy with Nature, and the +rest have not? + +Yet what wonderful achievements have some of the fragmentary artists +performed! Some of Tennyson's word-pictures, for instance, bear almost +as much study as the landscape. One afternoon, last spring, I had been +walking through a copse of young white birches,--their leaves scarce yet +apparent,--over a ground delicate with wood-anemones, moist and mottled +with dog's-tooth-violet leaves, and spangled with the delicate clusters +of that shy creature, the Claytonia or Spring Beauty. All this was +floored with last year's faded foliage, giving a singular bareness +and whiteness to the foreground. Suddenly, as if entering a cavern, I +stepped through the edge of all this, into a dark little amphitheatre +beneath a hemlock-grove, where the afternoon sunlight struck broadly +through the trees upon a tiny stream and a miniature swamp,--this last +being intensely and luridly green, yet overlaid with the pale gray of +last year's reeds, and absolutely flaming with the gayest yellow light +from great clumps of cowslips. The illumination seemed perfectly weird +and dazzling; the spirit of the place appeared live, wild, fantastic, +almost human. Now open your Tennyson:-- + + "_And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire + in swamps and hollows gray_." + +Our cowslip is the English marsh-marigold. + +History is a grander poetry, and it is often urged that the features of +Nature in America must seem tame because they have no legendary wreaths +to decorate them. It is perhaps hard for those of us who are untravelled +to appreciate how densely even the ruralities of Europe are overgrown +with this ivy of associations. Thus, it is fascinating to hear that +the great French forests of Fontainebleau and St. Germain are full of +historic trees,--the oak of Charlemagne, the oak of Clovis, of Queen +Blanche, of Henri Quatre, of Sully,--the alley of Richelieu,--the +rendezvous of St. Hérem,--the star of Lamballe and of the Princesses, +a star being a point where several paths or roads converge. It is said +that every topographical work upon these forests has turned out a +history of the French monarchy. Yet surely we lose nearly as much as +we gain by this subordination of imperishable beauty to the perishable +memories of man. It may not be wholly unfortunate, that, in the +absence of those influences which come to older nations from ruins and +traditions, we must go more directly to Nature. Art may either rest upon +other Art, or it may rest directly upon the original foundation; the one +is easier, the other more valuable. Direct dependence on Nature leads +to deeper thought and affords the promise of far fresher results. Why +should I wish to fix my study in Heidelberg Castle, when I possess the +unexhausted treasures of this out-door study here? + +The walls of my study are of ever-changing verdure, and its roof and +floor of ever-varying blue. I never enter it without a new heaven above +and new thoughts below. The lake has no lofty shores and no level ones, +but a series of undulating hills, fringed with woods from end to end. +The profaning axe may sometimes come near the margin, and one may hear +the whetting of the scythe; but no cultivated land abuts upon the main +lake, though beyond the narrow woods there are here and there glimpses +of rye-fields that wave like rolling mist. Graceful islands rise from +the quiet waters,--Grape Island, Grass Island, Sharp Pine Island, +and the rest, baptized with simple names by departed generations of +farmers,--all wooded and bushy and trailing with festoonery of vines. +Here and there the banks are indented, and one may pass beneath drooping +chestnut-leaves and among alder-branches into some secret sanctuary of +stillness. The emerald edges of these silent tarns are starred with +dandelions which have strayed here, one scarce knows how, from their +foreign home; the buck-bean perchance grows in the water, or the Rhodora +fixes here one of its shy camping-places, or there are whole skies of +lupine on the sloping banks;--the catbird builds its nest beside us, +the yellow-bird above, the wood-thrush sings late and the whippoorwill +later, and sometimes the scarlet tanager and his golden-haired bride +send a gleam of the tropics through these leafy aisles. + +Sometimes I rest in a yet more secluded place amid the waters, where +a little wooded island holds a small lagoon in the centre, just wide +enough for the wherry to turn round. The entrance lies between two +hornbeam trees, which stand close to the brink, spreading over it their +thorn-like branches and their shining leaves. Within there is perfect +shelter; the island forms a high circular bank, like a coral reef, and +shuts out the wind and the passing boats; the surface is paved with +leaves of lily and pond-weed, and the boughs above are full of song. No +matter what white caps may crest the blue waters of the pond, which here +widens out to its broadest reach, there is always quiet here. A few +oar-strokes distant lies a dam or water-break, where the whole lake is +held under control by certain distant mills, towards which a sluggish +stream goes winding on through miles of water-lilies. The old gray +timbers of the dam are the natural resort of every boy or boatman within +their reach; some come in pursuit of pickerel, some of turtles, some of +bull-frogs, some of lilies, some of bathing. It is a good place for the +last desideratum, and it is well to leave here the boat tethered to +the vines which overhang the cove, and perform a sacred and Oriental +ablution beneath the sunny afternoon. + +Oh, radiant and divine afternoon! The poets profusely celebrate silver +evenings and golden mornings; but what floods on floods of beauty steep +the earth and gladden it in the first hours of day's decline! The +exuberant rays reflect and multiply themselves from every leaf and +blade; the cows lie upon the hill-side, with their broad peaceful backs +painted into the landscape; the hum of insects, "tiniest bells on the +garment of silence," fills the air; the gorgeous butterflies doze upon +the thistle-blooms till they almost fall from the petals; the air is +full of warm fragrance from the wild-grape clusters; the grass is +burning hot beneath the naked feet in sunshine, and cool as water in the +shade. Diving from this overhanging beam,--for Ovid evidently meant that +Midas to be cured must dive,-- + + "Subde caput, corpusque simul, simul elue + crinem,"-- + +one finds as kindly a reception from the water as in childish days, and +as safe a shelter in the green dressing-room afterwards; and the patient +wherry floats near by, in readiness for a reëmbarkation. + +Here a word seems needed, unprofessionally and non-technically, upon +boats,--these being the sole seats provided for occupant or visitor in +my out-door study. When wherries first appeared in this peaceful inland +community, the novel proportions occasioned remark. Facetious bystanders +inquired sarcastically whether that thing were expected to carry +more than one,--plainly implying by labored emphasis that it would +occasionally be seen tenanted by even less than that number. +Transcendental friends inquired, with more refined severity, if the +proprietor expected to _meditate_ in that thing? This doubt at least +seemed legitimate. Meditation seems to belong to sailing rather than +rowing; there is something so gentle and unintrusive in gliding +effortless beneath overhanging branches and along the trailing edges of +clematis thickets;--what a privilege of fairy-land is this noiseless +prow, looking in and out of one flowery cove after another, scarcely +stirring the turtle from his log, and leaving no wake behind! It seemed +as if all the process of rowing had too much noise and bluster, and as +if the sharp slender wherry, in particular, were rather too pert and +dapper to win the confidence of the woods and waters. Time has dispelled +the fear. As I rest poised upon the oars above some submerged shallow, +diamonded with ripple-broken sunbeams, the fantastic Notonecta or +water-boatman rests upon his oars below, and I see that his proportions +anticipated the wherry, as honeycombs antedated the problem of the +hexagonal cell. While one of us rests, so does the other; and when one +shoots away rapidly above the water, the other does the same beneath. +For the time, as our motions seem the same, so with our motives,--my +enjoyment certainly not less, with the conveniences of humanity thrown +in. + +But the sun is declining low. The club-boats are out, and from island +to island in the distance these shafts of youthful life shoot swiftly +across. There races some swift Atalanta, with no apple to fall in her +path but some soft and spotted oak-apple from an overhanging tree; there +the Phantom, with a crew white and ghostlike in the distance, glimmers +in and out behind the headlands, while yonder wherry glides lonely +across the smooth expanse. The voices of all these oarsmen are dim and +almost inaudible, being so far away; but one would scarcely wish that +distance should annihilate the ringing laughter of these joyous +girls, who come gliding, in a safe and heavy boat, they and some blue +dragon-flies together, around yonder wooded point. + +Many a summer afternoon have I rowed joyously with these same maidens +beneath these steep and garlanded shores; many a time have they pulled +the heavy four-oar, with me as coxswain at the helm,--the said patient +steersman being oft-times insulted by classical allusions from rival +boats, satirically comparing him to an indolent Venus drawn by doves, +while the oarswomen in turn were likened to Minerva with her feet upon +a tortoise. Many were the disasters in the earlier days of feminine +training;--first of toilet, straw hats blowing away, hair coming down, +hair-pins strewing the floor of the boat, gloves commonly happening to +be off at the precise moment of starting, and trials of speed impaired +by somebody's oar catching in somebody's dress-pocket. Then the actual +difficulties of handling the long and heavy oars,--the first essays +at feathering, with a complicated splash of air and water, as when a +wild-duck in rising swims and flies together, and uses neither element +handsomely,--the occasional pulling of a particularly vigorous stroke +through the atmosphere alone, and at other times the compensating +disappearance of nearly the whole oar beneath the liquid surface, as if +some Uncle Kühleborn had grasped it, while our Undine by main strength +tugged it from the beguiling wave. But with what triumphant abundance +of merriment were these preliminary disasters repaid, and how soon +outgrown! What "time" we sometimes made, when nobody happened to be near +with a watch, and how successfully we tossed oars in saluting, when the +world looked on from a pic-nic! We had our applauses, too. To be sure, +owing to the age and dimensions of the original barge, we could not +command such a burst of enthusiasm as when the young men shot by us in +their race-boat;--but then, as one of the girls justly remarked, we +remained longer in sight. + +And many a day, since promotion to a swifter craft, have they rowed with +patient stroke down the lovely lake, still attended by their guide, +philosopher, and coxswain,--along banks where herds of young birch-trees +overspread the sloping valley and ran down in a blaze of sunshine to the +rippling water,--or through the Narrows, where some breeze rocked the +boat till trailing shawls and ribbons were water-soaked, and the bold +little foam would even send a daring drop over the gunwale, to play at +ocean,--or to Davis's Cottage, where a whole parterre of lupines bloomed +to the water's edge, as if relics of some ancient garden-bower of a +forgotten race,--or to the dam by Lily Pond, there to hunt among the +stones for snakes' eggs, each empty shell cut crosswise, where the +young creatures had made their first fierce bite into the universe +outside,--or to some island, where white violets bloomed fragrant and +lonely, separated by relentless breadths of water from their shore-born +sisters, until mingled in their visitors' bouquets,--then up the lake +homeward again at nightfall, the boat all decked with clematis, clethra, +laurel, azalea, or water-lilies, while purple sunset clouds turned forth +their golden linings for drapery above our heads, and then unrolling +sent northward long roseate wreaths to outstrip our loitering speed, and +reach the floating-bridge before us. + +It is nightfall now. One by one the birds grow silent, and the soft +dragon-flies, children of the day, are fluttering noiselessly to their +rest beneath the under sides of drooping leaves. From shadowy coves the +evening air is thrusting forth a thin film of mist to spread a white +floor above the waters. The gathering darkness deepens the quiet of the +lake, and bids us, at least for this time, to forsake it. "_De soir +fontaines, de matin montaignes_," says the old French proverb,--Morning +for labor, evening for repose. + + + + +A SERMON IN A STONE. + + + Harry Jones and Tom Murdock got down from the cars, + Near a still country village, and lit their cigars. + They had left the hot town for a stroll and a chat, + And wandered on looking at this and at that,-- + Plumed grass with pink clover that waltzed in the breeze, + Ruby currants in gardens, and pears on the trees,-- + Till a green church-yard showed them its sun-checkered gloom, + And in they both went and sat down on a tomb. + The dead name was mossy; the letters were dim; + But they spelled out "James Woodson," and mused upon him, + Till Harry said, poring, "I wish I could know + What manner of man used the bones down below." + Answered Tom,--as he took his cigar from his lip + And tapped off the ashes that crusted the tip, + His quaint face somewhat shaded with awe and with mystery,-- + "You shall hear, if you will, the main points in his story."-- + "You don't mean you knew him? You could not! See here! + Why, this, since he died, is the thirtieth year!"-- + "I never saw him, nor the place where he lay, + Nor heard of nor thought of the man, till to-day; + But I'll tell you his story, and leave it to you + If 'tis not ten to one that my story is true. + + "The man whose old mould underneath us is hid + Meant a great deal more good and less harm than he did. + He knelt in yon church 'mid the worshipping throng, + And vowed to do right, but went out to do wrong; + For, going up of a Sunday to look at the gate + Of Saints' Alley, he stuck there and found it was strait, + And slid back of a Monday to walk in the way + That is popular, populous, smooth-paved, and gay. + The flesh it was strong, but the spirit was faint. + He first was too young, then too old, for a saint. + He wished well by his neighbors, did well by himself, + And hoped for salvation, and struggled for pelf; + And easy Tomorrow still promised to pay + The still swelling debts of his bankrupt Today, + Till, bestriding the deep sudden chasm that is fixed + The sunshiny world and the shadowy betwixt, + His Today with a pale wond'ring face stood alone, + And over the border Tomorrow had flown. + So after went he, his accounts as he could + To settle and make his loose reckonings good, + And left us his tomb and his skeleton under,-- + Two boons to his race,--to sit down on and ponder. + Heaven help him! Yet heaven, I fear, he hath lost. + Here lies his poor dust; but where cries his poor ghost? + We know not. Perhaps we shall see by-and-by, + When out of our coffins we get, you and I." + + + + +AGNES OF SORRENTO. + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE INTERVIEW. + + +The dreams of Agnes, on the night after her conversation with the monk +and her singular momentary interview with the cavalier, were a strange +mixture of images, indicating the peculiarities of her education and +habits of daily thought. + +She dreamed that she was sitting alone in the moonlight, and heard some +one rustling in the distant foliage of the orange-groves, and from them +came a young man dressed in white of a dazzling clearness like sunlight; +large pearly wings fell from his shoulders and seemed to shimmer with +a phosphoric radiance; his forehead was broad and grave, and above it +floated a thin, tremulous tongue of flame; his eyes had that deep, +mysterious gravity which is so well expressed in all the Florentine +paintings of celestial beings: and yet, singularly enough, this +white-robed, glorified form seemed to have the features and lineaments +of the mysterious cavalier of the evening before,--the same deep, +mournful, dark eyes, only that in them the light of earthly pride had +given place to the calm, strong gravity of an assured peace,--the same +broad forehead,--the same delicately chiselled features, but elevated +and etherealized, glowing with a kind of interior ecstasy. He seemed to +move from the shadow of the orange-trees with a backward floating of his +lustrous garments, as if borne on a cloud just along the surface of +the ground; and in his hand he held the lily-spray, all radiant with a +silvery, living light, just as the monk had suggested to her a divine +flower might be. Agnes seemed to herself to hold her breath and marvel +with a secret awe, and, as often happens in dreams, she wondered to +herself,--"Was this stranger, then, indeed, not even mortal, not even a +king's brother, but an angel?--How strange," she said to herself, "that +I should never have seen it in his eyes!" Nearer and nearer the vision +drew, and touched her forehead with the lily, which seemed dewy and +icy cool; and with the contact it seemed to her that a delicious +tranquillity, a calm ecstasy, possessed her soul, and the words were +impressed in her mind, as if spoken in her ear, "The Lord hath sealed +thee for his own!"--and then, with the wild fantasy of dreams, she saw +the cavalier in his wonted form and garments, just as he had kneeled to +her the night before, and he said, "Oh, Agnes! Agnes! little lamb of +Christ, love me and lead me!"--and in her sleep it seemed to her that +her heart stirred and throbbed with a strange, new movement in answer to +those sad, pleading eyes, and thereafter her dream became more troubled. + +The sea was beginning now to brighten with the reflection of the coming +dawn in the sky, and the flickering fire of Vesuvius was waxing sickly +and pale; and while all the high points of rocks were turning of a rosy +purple, in the weird depths of the gorge were yet the unbroken shadows +and stillness of night. But at the earliest peep of dawn the monk had +risen, and now, as he paced up and down the little garden, his morning +hymn mingled with Agnes's dreams,--words strong with all the nerve of +the old Latin, which, when they were written, had scarcely ceased to be +the spoken tongue of Italy. + + Splendor paternae gloriae, + De luce lucem proferens, + Lux lucis et fons luminis + Dies diem illuminans! + + "Votis vocemus et Patrem, + Patrem potentis gratiae, + Patrem perennis gloriae: + Culpam releget lubricam! + + "Confirmet actus strenuos, + Dentes retundat invidi, + Casus secundet asperos, + Donet gerendi gratiam! + + "Christus nobis sit cibus, + Potusque noster sit fides: + Laeti bibamus sobriam + Ebrietatem spiritus! + + "Laetus dies hic transeat, + Pudor sit ut diluculum, + Fides velut meridies, + Crepusculum mens nesciat!"[A] + +[Footnote A: + + Splendor of the Father's glory, + Bringing light with cheering ray, + Light of light and fount of brightness, + Day, illuminating day! + + In our prayers we call thee Father, + Father of eternal glory, + Father of a mighty grace: + Heal our errors, we implore thee! + + Form our struggling, vague desires; + Power of spiteful spirits break; + Help us in life's straits, and give us + Grace to suffer for thy sake! + + Christ for us shall be our food; + Faith in him our drink shall be; + Hopeful, joyful, let us drink + Soberness of ecstasy! + + Joyful shall our day go by, + Purity its dawning light, + Faith its fervid noontide glow, + And for us shall be no night!] + +The hymn in every word well expressed the character and habitual pose +of mind of the singer, whose views of earthly matters were as different +from the views of ordinary working mortals as those of a bird, as he +flits and perches and sings, must be from those of the four-footed +ox who plods. The "_sobriam ebrietatem spiritus_" was with him first +constitutional, as a child of sunny skies, and then cultivated by every +employment and duty of the religious and artistic career to which from +childhood he had devoted himself. If perfect, unalloyed happiness has +ever existed in this weary, work-day world of ours, it has been in the +bosoms of some of those old religious artists of the Middle Ages, whose +thoughts grew and flowered in prayerful shadows, bursting into thousands +of quaint and fanciful blossoms on the pages of missal and breviary. In +them the fine life of color, form, and symmetry, which is the gift of +the Italian, formed a rich stock on which to graft the true vine of +religious faith, and rare and fervid were the blossoms. + +For it must be remarked in justice of the Christian religion, that the +Italian people never rose to the honors of originality in the beautiful +arts till inspired by Christianity. The Art of ancient Rome was a +second-hand copy of the original and airy Greek,--often clever, but +never vivid and self-originating. It is to the religious Art of the +Middle Ages, to the Umbrian and Florentine schools particularly, that we +look for the peculiar and characteristic flowering of the Italian mind. +When the old Greek Art revived again in modern Europe, though at first +it seemed to add richness and grace to this peculiar development, it +smothered and killed it at last, as some brilliant tropical parasite +exhausts the life of the tree it seems at first to adorn. Raphael and +Michel Angelo mark both the perfected splendor and the commenced decline +of original Italian Art; and just in proportion as their ideas grew less +Christian and more Greek did the peculiar vividness and intense flavor +of Italian nationality pass away from them. They became again like the +ancient Romans, gigantic imitators and clever copyists, instead of +inspired kings and priests of a national development. + +The tones of the monk's morning hymn awakened both Agnes and Elsie, and +the latter was on the alert instantly. + +"Bless my soul!" she said, "brother Antonio has a marvellous power of +lungs; he is at it the first thing in the morning. It always used to be +so; when he was a boy, he would wake me up before daylight, singing. + +"He is happy, like the birds," said Agnes, "because he flies near +heaven." + +"Like enough: he was always a pious boy; his prayers and his pencil were +ever uppermost: but he was a poor hand at work: he could draw you an +olive-tree on paper; but set him to dress it, and any fool would have +done better." + +The morning rites of devotion and the simple repast being over, Elsie +prepared to go to her business. It had occurred to her that the visit +of her brother was an admirable pretext for withdrawing Agnes from the +scene of her daily traffic, and of course, as she fondly supposed, +keeping her from the sight of the suspected admirer. + +Neither Agnes nor the monk had disturbed her serenity by recounting the +adventure of the evening before. Agnes had been silent from the habitual +reserve which a difference of nature ever placed between her and her +grandmother,--a difference which made confidence on her side an utter +impossibility. There are natures which ever must be silent to other +natures, because there is no common language between them. In the same +house, at the same board, sharing the same pillow even, are those +forever strangers and foreigners whose whole stock of intercourse is +limited to a few brief phrases on the commonest material wants of life, +and who, as soon as they try to go farther, have no words that are +mutually understood. + +"Agnes," said her grandmother, "I shall not need you at the stand +to-day. There is that new flax to be spun, and you may keep company with +your uncle. I'll warrant me, you'll be glad enough of that!" + +"Certainly I shall," said Agnes, cheerfully. "Uncle's comings are my +holidays." + +"I will show you somewhat further on my Breviary," said the monk. +"Praised be God, many new ideas sprang up in my mind last night, and +seemed to shoot forth in blossoms. Even my dreams have often been made +fruitful in this divine work." + +"Many a good thought comes in dreams," said Elsie; "but, for my part, I +work too hard and sleep too sound to get much that way." + +"Well, brother," said Elsie, after breakfast, "you must look well after +Agnes to-day; for there be plenty of wolves go round, hunting these +little lambs." + +"Have no fear, sister," said the monk, tranquilly; "the angels have +her in charge. If our eyes were only clear-sighted, we should see that +Christ's little ones are never alone." + +"All that is fine talk, brother; but I never found that the angels +attended to any of my affairs, unless I looked after them pretty sharp +myself; and as for girls, the dear Lord knows they need a legion apiece +to look after them. What with roystering fellows and smooth-tongued +gallants, and with silly, empty-headed hussies like that Giulietta, one +has much ado to keep the best of them straight. Agnes is one of the +best, too,--a well-brought up, pious, obedient girl, and industrious +as a bee. Happy is the husband who gets her. I would I knew a man good +enough for her." + +This conversation took place while Agnes was in the garden picking +oranges and lemons, and filling the basket which her grandmother was to +take to the town. The silver ripple of a hymn that she was singing came +through the open door; it was part of a sacred ballad in honor of Saint +Agnes:-- + + "Bring me no pearls to bind my hair, + No sparkling jewels bring to me! + Dearer by far the blood-red rose + That speaks of Him who died for me. + + "Ah! vanish every earthly love, + All earthly dreams forgotten be! + My heart is gone beyond the stars, + To live with Him who died for me." + +"Hear you now, sister," said the monk, "how the Lord keeps the door of +this maiden's heart? There is no fear of her; and I much doubt, sister, +whether you would do well to interfere with the evident call this child +hath to devote herself wholly to the Lord." + +"Oh, you talk, brother Antonio, who never had a child in your life, +and don't know how a mother's heart warms towards her children and her +children's children! The saints, as I said, must be reasonable, and +oughtn't to be putting vocations into the head of an old woman's only +staff and stay; and if they oughtn't to, why, then, they won't. Agnes is +a pious child, and loves her prayers and hymns; and so she will love her +husband, one of these days, as an honest woman should." + +"But you know, sister, that the highest seats in Paradise are reserved +for the virgins who follow the Lamb." + +"Maybe so," said Elsie, stiffly; "but the lower seats are good enough +for Agnes and me. For my part, I would rather have a little comfort as I +go along, and put up with less in Paradise, (may our dear Lady bring us +safely there!) say I." + +So saying, Elsie raised the large, square basket of golden fruit to +her head, and turned her stately figure towards the scene of her daily +labors. + +The monk seated himself on the garden-wall, with his portfolio by his +side, and seemed busily sketching and retouching some of his ideas. +Agnes wound some silvery-white flax round her distaff, and seated +herself near him under an orange-tree; and while her small fingers were +twisting the flax, her large, thoughtful eyes were wandering off on the +deep blue sea, pondering over and over the strange events of the day +before, and the dreams of the night. + +"Dear child," said the monk, "have you thought more of what I said to +you?" + +A deep blush suffused her cheek as she answered,-- + +"Yes, uncle; and I had a strange dream last night." + +"A dream, my little heart? Come, then, and tell it to its uncle. Dreams +are the hushing of the bodily senses, that the eyes of the Spirit may +open." + +"Well, then," said Agnes, "I dreamed that I sat pondering as I did last +evening in the moonlight, and that an angel came forth from the trees"-- + +"Indeed!" said the monk, looking up with interest; "what form had he?" + +"He was a young man, in dazzling white raiment, and his eyes were deep +as eternity, and over his forehead was a silver flame, and he bore a +lily-stalk in his hand, which was like what you told of, with light in +itself." + +"That must have been the holy Gabriel," said the monk, "the angel that +came to our blessed Mother. Did he say aught?" + +"Yes, he touched my forehead with the lily, and a sort of cool rest and +peace went all through me, and he said, 'The Lord hath sealed thee for +his own!'" + +"Even so," said the monk, looking up, and crossing himself devoutly, "by +this token I know that my prayers are answered." + +"But, dear uncle," said Agnes, hesitating and blushing painfully, "there +was one singular thing about my dream,--this holy angel had yet a +strange likeness to the young man that came here last night, so that I +could not but marvel at it." + +"It may be that the holy angel took on him in part this likeness to show +how glorious a redeemed soul might become, that you might be encouraged +to pray. The holy Saint Monica thus saw the blessed Augustine standing +clothed in white among the angels while he was yet a worldling and +unbeliever, and thereby received the grace to continue her prayers for +thirty years, till she saw him a holy bishop. This is a sure sign that +this young man, whoever he may be, shall attain Paradise through your +prayers. Tell me, dear little heart, is this the first angel thou hast +seen?" + +"I never dreamed of them before. I have dreamed of our Lady, and Saint +Agnes, and Saint Catharine of Siena; and sometimes it seemed that they +sat a long time by my bed, and sometimes it seemed that they took me +with them away to some beautiful place where the air was full of music, +and sometimes they filled my hands with such lovely flowers that when I +waked I was ready to weep that they could no more be found. Why, dear +uncle, do _you_ see angels often?" + +"Not often, dear child, but sometimes a little glimpse. But you should +see the pictures of our holy Father Angelico, to whom the angels +appeared constantly; for so blessed was the life he lived, that it was +more in heaven than on earth. He would never cumber his mind with the +things of this world, and would not paint for money, nor for prince's +favor; nor would he take places of power and trust in the Church, or +else, so great was his piety, they had made a bishop of him; but he kept +ever aloof and walked in the shade. He used to say, 'They that would do +Christ's work must walk with Christ.' His pictures of angels are indeed +wonderful, and their robes are of all dazzling colors, like the rainbow. +It is most surely believed among us that he painted to show forth what +he saw in heavenly visions." + +"Ah!" said Agnes, "how I wish I could see some of these things!" + +"You may well say so, dear child. There is one picture of Paradise +painted on gold, and there you may see our Lord in the midst of the +heavens crowning his blessed Mother, and all the saints and angels +surrounding; and the colors are so bright that they seem like the sunset +clouds,--golden, and rosy, and purple, and amethystine, and green like +the new, tender leaves of spring: for, you see, the angels are the +Lord's flowers and birds that shine and sing to gladden his Paradise, +and there is nothing bright on earth that is comparable to them,--so +said the blessed Angelico, who saw them. And what seems worthy of note +about them is their marvellous lightness, that they seem to float as +naturally as the clouds do, and their garments have a divine grace of +motion like vapor that curls and wavers in the sun. Their faces, too, +are most wonderful; for they seem so full of purity and majesty, and +withal humble, with an inexpressible sweetness; for, beyond all others, +it was given to the holy Angelico to paint the immortal beauty of the +soul." + +"It must be a great blessing and favor for you, dear uncle, to see all +these things," said Agnes; "I am never tired of hearing you tell of +them." + +"There is one little picture," said the monk, "wherein he hath painted +the death of our dear Lady; and surely no mortal could ever conceive +anything like her sweet dying face, so faint and weak and tender that +each man sees his own mother dying there, yet so holy that one feels +that it can be no other than the mother of our Lord; and around her +stand the disciples mourning; but above is our blessed Lord himself, who +receives the parting spirit, as a tender new-born babe, into his bosom: +for so the holy painters represented the death of saints, as of a birth +in which each soul became a little child of heaven." + +"How great grace must come from such pictures!" said Agnes. "It seems +to me that the making of such holy things is one of the most blessed of +good works.--Dear uncle," she said, after a pause, "they say that this +deep gorge is haunted by evil spirits, who often waylay and bewilder the +unwary, especially in the hours of darkness." + +"I should not wonder in the least," said the monk; "for you must know, +child, that our beautiful Italy was of old so completely given up and +gone over to idolatry that even her very soil casts up fragments of +temples and stones that have been polluted. Especially around these +shores there is scarcely a spot that hath not been violated in all times +by vilenesses and impurities such as the Apostle saith it is a shame +even to speak of. These very waters cast up marbles and fragments of +colored mosaics from the halls which were polluted with devil-worship +and abominable revellings; so that, as the Gospel saith that the evil +spirits cast out by Christ walk through waste places, so do they cling +to these fragments of their old estate." + +"Well, uncle, I have longed to consecrate the gorge to Christ by having +a shrine there, where I might keep a lamp burning." + +"It is a most pious thought, child." + +"And so, dear uncle, I thought that you would undertake the work. There +is one Pietro hereabout who is a skilful worker in stone, and was a +playfellow of mine,--though of late grandmamma has forbidden me to talk +with him,--and I think he would execute it under your direction." + +"Indeed, my little heart, it shall be done," said the monk, cheerfully; +"and I will engage to paint a fair picture of our Lady to be within; and +I think it would be a good thought to have a pinnacle on the outside, +where should stand a statue of Saint Michael with his sword. Saint +Michael is a brave and wonderful angel, and all the devils and vile +spirits are afraid of him. I will set about the devices to-day." + +And cheerily the good monk began to intone a verse of an old hymn,-- + + "Sub tutela Michaelis, + Pax in terra, pax in coelis."[B] + +[Footnote B: + + "'Neath Saint Michael's watch is given + Peace on earth and peace in heaven."] + +In such talk and work the day passed away to Agnes; but we will not say +that she did not often fall into deep musings on the mysterious visitor +of the night before. Often while the good monk was busy at his drawing, +the distaff would droop over her knee and her large dark eyes become +intently fixed on the ground, as if she were pondering some absorbing +subject. + +Little could her literal, hard-working grandmother, or her artistic, +simple-minded uncle, or the dreamy Mother Theresa, or her austere +confessor, know of the strange forcing process which they were all +together uniting to carry on in the mind of this sensitive young girl. +Absolutely secluded by her grandmother's watchful care from any actual +knowledge and experience of real life, she had no practical tests by +which to correct the dreams of that inner world in which she delighted +to live and move, and which was peopled with martyrs, saints, and +angels, whose deeds were possible or probable only in the most exalted +regions of devout poetry. + +So she gave her heart at once and without reserve to an enthusiastic +desire for the salvation of the stranger, whom Heaven, she believed, had +directed to seek her intercessions; and when the spindle drooped from +her hand, and her eyes became fixed on vacancy, she found herself +wondering who he might really be, and longing to know yet a little more +of him. + +Towards the latter part of the afternoon, a hasty messenger came to +summon her uncle to administer the last rites to a man who had just +fallen from a building, and who, it was feared, might breathe his last +unshriven. + +"Dear daughter, I must hasten and carry Christ to this poor sinner," +said the monk, hastily putting all his sketches and pencils into her +lap. "Have a care of these till I return,--that is my good little one!" + +Agnes carefully arranged the sketches and put them into the book, and +then, kneeling before the shrine, began prayers for the soul of the +dying man. + +She prayed long and fervently, and so absorbed did she become, that she +neither saw nor heard anything that passed around her. + +It was, therefore, with a start of surprise, as she rose from prayer, +that she saw the cavalier sitting on one end of the marble sarcophagus, +with an air so composed and melancholy that he might have been taken for +one of the marble knights that sometimes are found on tombs. + +"You are surprised to see me, dear Agnes," he said, with a calm, slow +utterance, like a man who has assumed a position he means fully to +justify; "but I have watched day and night, ever since I saw you, to +find one moment to speak with you alone." + +"My Lord," said Agnes, "I humbly wait your pleasure. Anything that a +poor maiden may rightly do I will endeavor, in all loving duty." + +"Whom do you take me for, Agnes, that you speak thus?" said the +cavalier, smiling sadly. + +"Are you not the brother of our gracious King?" said Agnes. + +"No, dear maiden; and if the kind promise you lately made me is founded +on this mistake, it may be retracted." + +"No, my Lord," said Agnes,--"though I now know not who you are, yet if +in any strait or need you seek such poor prayers as mine, God forbid I +should refuse them!" + +"I am, indeed, in strait and need, Agnes; the sun does not shine on a +more desolate man than I am,--one more utterly alone in the world; there +is no one left to love me. Agnes, can you not love me a little?--let it +be ever so little, it shall content me." + +It was the first time that words of this purport had ever been addressed +to Agnes; but they were said so simply, so sadly, so tenderly, that they +somehow seemed to her the most natural and proper things in the world +to be said; and this poor handsome knight, who looked so earnest and +sorrowful,--how could she help answering, "Yes"? From her cradle she had +always loved everybody and every thing, and why should an exception be +made in behalf of a very handsome, very strong, yet very gentle and +submissive human being, who came and knocked so humbly at the door +of her heart? Neither Mary nor the saints had taught her to be +hard-hearted. + +"Yes, my Lord," she said, "you may believe that I will love and pray for +you; but now you must leave me, and not come here any more,--because +grandmamma would not be willing that I should talk with you, and it +would be wrong to disobey her, she is so very good to me." + +"But, dear Agnes," began the cavalier, approaching her, "I have many +things to say to you,--I have much to tell you." + +"But I know grandmamma would not be willing," said Agnes; "indeed, you +must not come here any more." + +"Well, then," said the stranger, "at least you will meet me at some +time,--tell me only where." + +"I cannot,--indeed, I cannot," said Agnes, distressed and embarrassed. +"Even now, if grandmamma knew you were here, she would be so angry." + +"But how can you pray for me, when you know nothing of me?" + +"The dear Lord knoweth you," said Agnes; "and when I speak of you, He +will know what you need." + +"Ah, dear child, how fervent is your faith! Alas for me, I have lost the +power of prayer! I have lost the believing heart my mother gave me,--my +dear mother who is now in heaven." + +"Ah, how can that be?" said Agnes. "Who could lose faith in so dear a +Lord as ours, and so loving a mother?" + +"Agnes, dear little lamb, you know nothing of the world; and I should be +most wicked to disturb your lovely peace of soul with any sinful doubts. +Oh, Agnes, Agnes, I am most miserable, most unworthy!" + +"Dear Sir, should you not cleanse your soul by the holy sacrament of +confession, and receive the living Christ within you? For He says, +'Without me ye can do nothing.'" + +"Oh, Agnes, sacrament and prayer are not for such as me! It is only +through your pure prayers I can hope for grace." + +"Dear Sir, I have an uncle, a most holy man, and gentle as a lamb. He is +of the convent San Marco in Florence, where there is a most holy prophet +risen up." + +"Savonarola?" said the cavalier, with flashing eyes. + +"Yes, that is he. You should hear my uncle talk of him, and how blessed +his preaching has been to many souls. Dear Sir, come some time to my +uncle." + +At this moment the sound of Elsie's voice was heard ascending the path +to the gorge outside, talking with Father Antonio, who was returning. + +Both started, and Agnes looked alarmed. + +"Fear nothing, sweet lamb," said the cavalier; "I am gone." + +He kneeled and kissed the hand of Agnes, and disappeared at one bound +over the parapet on the side opposite that which they were approaching. + +Agnes hastily composed herself, struggling with that half-guilty +feeling which is apt to weigh on a conscientious nature that has been +unwittingly drawn to act a part which would be disapproved by those +whose good opinion it habitually seeks. The interview had but the more +increased her curiosity to know the history of this handsome stranger. +Who, then, could he be? What were his troubles? She wished the interview +could have been long enough to satisfy her mind on these points. From +the richness of his dress, from his air and manner, from the poetry and +the jewel that accompanied it, she felt satisfied, that, if not what she +supposed, he was at least nobly born, and had shone in some splendid +sphere whose habits and ways were far beyond her simple experiences. She +felt towards him somewhat of the awe which a person of her condition in +life naturally felt toward that brilliant aristocracy which in those +days assumed the state of princes, and the members of which were +supposed to look down on common mortals from as great a height as the +stars regard the humblest flowers of the field. + +"How strange," she thought, "that he should think so much of me! What +can he see in me? And how can it be that a great lord, who speaks so +gently and is so reverential to a poor girl, and asks prayers so humbly, +can be so wicked and unbelieving as he says he is? Dear God, it cannot +be that he is an unbeliever; the great Enemy has been permitted to try +him, to suggest doubts to him, as he has to holy saints before now. How +beautifully he spoke about his mother!--tears glittered in his eyes +then,--ah, there must be grace there after all!" + +"Well, my little heart," said Elsie, interrupting her reveries, "have +you had a pleasant day?" + +"Delightful, grandmamma," said Agnes, blushing deeply with +consciousness. + +"Well," said Elsie, with satisfaction, "one thing I know,--I've +frightened off that old hawk of a cavalier with his hooked nose. I +haven't seen so much as the tip of his shoe-tie to-day. Yesterday he +made himself very busy around our stall; but I made him understand that +you never would come there again till the coast was clear." + +The monk was busily retouching the sketch of the Virgin of the +Annunciation. He looked up, and saw Agnes standing gazing towards the +setting sun, the pale olive of her cheek deepening into a crimson +flush. His head was too full of his own work to give much heed to the +conversation that had passed, but, looking at the glowing face, he said +to himself,-- + +"Truly, sometimes she might pass for the rose of Sharon as well as the +lily of the valley!" + +The moon that evening rose an hour later than the night before, yet +found Agnes still on her knees before the sacred shrine, while Elsie, +tired, grumbled at the draft on her sleeping-time. + +"Enough is as good as a feast," she remarked between her teeth; still +she had, after all, too much secret reverence for her grandchild's piety +openly to interrupt her. But in those days, as now, there were the +material and the spiritual, the souls who looked only on things that +could be seen, touched, and tasted, and souls who looked on the things +that were invisible. + +Agnes was pouring out her soul in that kind of yearning, passionate +prayer possible to intensely sympathetic people, in which the +interests and wants of another seem to annihilate for a time personal +consciousness, and make the whole of one's being seem to dissolve in an +intense solicitude for something beyond one's self. In such hours prayer +ceases to be an act of the will, and resembles more some overpowering +influence which floods the soul from without, bearing all its faculties +away on its resistless tide. + +Brought up from infancy to feel herself in a constant circle of +invisible spiritual agencies, Agnes received this wave of intense +feeling as an impulse inspired and breathed into her by some celestial +spirit, that thus she should be made an interceding medium for a soul in +some unknown strait or peril. For her faith taught her to believe in an +infinite struggle of intercession in which all the Church Visible and +Invisible were together engaged, and which bound them in living bonds of +sympathy to an interceding Redeemer, so that there was no want or woe +of human life that had not somewhere its sympathetic heart, and its +never-ceasing prayer before the throne of Eternal Love. Whatever may be +thought of the actual truth of this belief, it certainly was far more +consoling than that intense individualism of modern philosophy which +places every soul alone in its life-battle,--scarce even giving it a God +to lean upon. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE CONFESSIONAL. + + +The reader, if a person of any common knowledge of human nature, +will easily see the direction in which a young, inexperienced, and +impressible girl would naturally be tending under all the influences +which we perceive to have come upon her. + +But in the religious faith which Agnes professed there was a modifying +force, whose power both for good and evil can scarcely be estimated. + +The simple Apostolic direction, "Confess your faults one to another," +and the very natural need of personal pastoral guidance and assistance +to a soul in its heavenward journey, had in common with many other +religious ideas been forced by the volcanic fervor of the Italian nature +into a certain exaggerated proposition. Instead of brotherly confession +one to another, or the pastoral sympathy of a fatherly elder, the +religious mind of the day was instructed in an awful mysterious +sacrament of confession, which gave to some human being a divine right +to unlock the most secret chambers of the soul, to scrutinize and direct +its most veiled and intimate thoughts, and, standing in God's stead, to +direct the current of its most sensitive and most mysterious emotions. + +Every young aspirant for perfection in the religious life had to +commence by an unreserved surrender of the whole being in blind faith at +the feet of some such spiritual director, all whose questions must +be answered, and all whose injunctions obeyed, as from God himself. +Thenceforward was to be no soul-privacy, no retirement, nothing too +sacred to be expressed, too delicate to be handled and analyzed. In +reading the lives of those ethereally made and moulded women who +have come down to our day canonized as saints in the Roman Catholic +communion, one too frequently gets the impression of most regal natures, +gifted with all the most divine elements of humanity, but subjected to +a constant unnatural pressure from the ceaseless scrutiny and ungenial +pertinacity of some inferior and uncomprehending person invested with +the authority of a Spiritual Director. + +That there are advantages attending this species of intimate direction, +when wisely and skilfully managed, cannot be doubted. Grovelling and +imperfect natures have often thus been lifted up and carried in the arms +of superior wisdom and purity. The confession administered by a Fenelon +or a Francis de Sales was doubtless a beautiful and most invigorating +ordinance; but the difficulty in its actual working is the rarity of +such superior natures,--the fact, that the most ignorant and most +incapable may be invested with precisely the same authority as the most +intelligent and skilful. + +He to whom the faith of Agnes obliged her to lay open her whole soul, +who had a right with probing-knife and lancet to dissect out all the +finest nerves and fibres of her womanly nature, was a man who had been +through all the wild and desolating experiences incident to a dissipated +and irregular life in those turbulent days. + +It is true, that he was now with most stringent and earnest solemnity +striving to bring every thought and passion into captivity to the spirit +of his sacred vows; but still, when a man has once lost that unconscious +soul-purity which exists in a mind unscathed by the fires of passion, no +after-tears can weep it back again. No penance, no prayer, no anguish +of remorse can give back the simplicity of a soul that has never been +stained. + +If Padre Francesco had not failed to make those inquiries into the +character of Agnes's mysterious lover which he assumed to be necessary +as a matter of pastoral faithfulness. + +It was not difficult for one possessing the secrets of the confessional +to learn the real character of any person in the neighborhood, and it +was with a kind of bitter satisfaction which rather surprised himself +that the father learned enough ill of the cavalier to justify his using +every possible measure to prevent his forming any acquaintance with +Agnes. He was captain of a band of brigands, and, of course, in array +against the State; he was excommunicated, and, of course, an enemy of +the Church. What but the vilest designs could be attributed to such a +man? Was he not a wolf prowling round the green, secluded pastures where +as yet the Lord's lamb had been folded in unconscious innocence? + +Father Francesco, when he next met Agnes at the confessional, put such +questions as drew from her the whole account of all that had passed +between her and the stranger. The recital on Agnes's part was perfectly +translucent and pure, for she had said no word and had had no thought +that brought the slightest stain upon her soul. Love and prayer had been +the prevailing habit of her life, and in promising to love and pray she +had had no worldly or earthly thought. The language of gallantry, or +even of sincere passion, had never reached her ear; but it had always +been as natural to her to love every human being as for a plant +with tendrils to throw them round the next plant, and therefore she +entertained the gentle guest who had lately found room in her heart +without a question or a scruple. + +As Agnes related her childlike story of unconscious faith and love, her +listener felt himself strangely and bitterly agitated. It was a vision +of ignorant purity and unconsciousness rising before him, airy and +glowing as a child's soap-bubble, which one touch might annihilate; but +he felt a strange remorseful tenderness, a yearning admiration, at its +unsubstantial purity. There is something pleading and pitiful in the +simplicity of perfect ignorance,--a rare and delicate beauty in its +freshness, like the morning-glory cup, which, once withered by the heat, +no second morning can restore. Agnes had imparted to her confessor, by +a mysterious sympathy, something like the morning freshness of her own +soul; she had redeemed the idea of womanhood from gross associations, +and set before him a fair ideal of all that female tenderness and purity +may teach to man. Her prayers--well he believed in them,--but be set +his teeth with a strange spasm of inward passion,--when he thought +of her prayers and love being given to another. He tried to persuade +himself that this was only the fervor of pastoral zeal against a vile +robber who had seized the fairest lamb of the sheepfold; but there was +an intensely bitter, miserable feeling connected with it, that scorched +and burned his higher aspirations like a stream of lava running among +fresh leaves and flowers. + +The conflict of his soul communicated a severity of earnestness to +his voice and manner which made Agnes tremble, as he put one probing +question after another, designed to awaken some consciousness of sin +in her soul. Still, though troubled and distressed by his apparent +disapprobation, her answers came always clear, honest, unfaltering, like +those of one who _could_ not form an idea of evil. + +When the confession was over, he came out of his recess to speak +with Agnes a few words face to face. His eyes had a wild and haggard +earnestness, and a vivid hectic flush on either cheek told how extreme +was his emotion. Agnes lifted her eyes to his with an innocent wondering +trouble and an appealing confidence that for a moment wholly unnerved +him. He felt a wild impulse to clasp her in his arms; and for a moment +it seemed to him he would sacrifice heaven and brave hell, if he could +for one moment hold her to his heart, and say that he loved her,--her, +the purest, fairest, sweetest revelation of God's love that had ever +shone on his soul,--her, the only star, the only flower, the only +dew-drop of a burning, barren, weary life. It seemed to him that it was +not the longing, gross passion, but the outcry of his whole nature for +something noble, sweet, and divine. + +But he turned suddenly away with a sort of groan, and, folding his robe +over his face, seemed engaged in earnest prayer. Agnes looked at him +awe-struck and breathless. + +"Oh, my father!" she faltered, "what have I done?" + +"Nothing, my poor child," said the father, suddenly turning toward her +with recovered calmness and dignity; "but I behold in thee a fair lamb +whom the roaring lion is seeking to devour. Know, my daughter, that I +have made inquiries concerning this man of whom you speak, and find that +he is an outlaw and a robber and a heretic,--a vile wretch stained +by crimes that have justly drawn down upon him the sentence of +excommunication from our Holy Father the Pope." + +Agnes grew deadly pale at this announcement. + +"Can it be possible?" she gasped. "Alas! what dreadful temptations have +driven him to such sins?" + +"Daughter, beware how you think too lightly of them, or suffer his good +looks and flattering words to blind you to their horror. You must from +your heart detest him as a vile enemy." + +"Must I, my father?" + +"Indeed you must." + +"But if the dear Lord loved us and died for us when we were his enemies, +may we not pity and pray for unbelievers? Oh, say, my dear father, is it +not allowed to us to pray for all sinners, even the vilest?" + +"I do not say that you may not, my daughter," said the monk, too +conscientious to resist the force of this direct appeal; "but, +daughter," he added, with an energy that alarmed Agnes, "you must watch +your heart; you must not suffer your interest to become a worldly love: +remember that you are chosen to be the espoused of Christ alone." + +While the monk was speaking thus, Agnes fixed on him her eyes with an +innocent mixture of surprise and perplexity,--which gradually deepened +into a strong gravity of gaze, as if she were looking through him, +through all visible things into some far-off depth of mysterious +knowledge. + +"My Lord will keep me," she said; "my soul is safe in His heart as a +little bird in its nest; but while I love Him, I cannot help loving +everybody whom He loves, even His enemies: and, father, my heart prays +within me for this poor sinner, whether I will or no; something within +me continually intercedes for him." + +"Oh, Agnes! Agnes! blessed child, pray for me also," said the monk, with +a sudden burst of emotion which perfectly confounded his disciple. He +hid his face with his hands. + +"My blessed father!" said Agnes, "how could I deem that holiness like +yours had any need of my prayers?" + +"Child! child! you know nothing of me. I am a miserable sinner, tempted +of devils, in danger of damnation." + +Agnes stood appalled at this sudden burst, so different from the rigid +and restrained severity of tone in which the greater part of the +conversation had been conducted. She stood silent and troubled; while +he, whom she had always regarded with such awful veneration, seemed +shaken by some internal whirlwind of emotion whose nature she could not +comprehend. + +At length Father Francesco raised his head, and recovered his wonted +calm severity of expression. + +"My daughter," he said, "little do the innocent lambs of the flock know +of the dangers and conflicts through which the shepherds must pass who +keep the Lord's fold. We have the labors of angels laid upon us, and we +are but men. Often we stumble, often we faint, and Satan takes advantage +of our weakness. I cannot confer with you now as I would; but, my child, +listen to my directions. Shun this young man; let nothing ever lead +you to listen to another word from him; you must not even look at him, +should you meet, but turn away your head and repeat a prayer. I do not +forbid you to practise the holy work of intercession for his soul, but +it must be on these conditions. + +"My father," said Agnes, "you may rely on my obedience"; and, kneeling, +she kissed his hand. + +He drew it suddenly away, with a gesture of pain and displeasure. + +"Pardon a sinful child this liberty," said Agnes. + +"You know not what you do," said the father, hastily. "Go, my +daughter,--go, at once; I will confer with you some other time"; and +hastily raising his hand in an attitude of benediction, he turned and +went into the confessional. + +"Wretch! hypocrite! whited sepulchre!" he said to himself,--"to warn +this innocent child against a sin that is all the while burning in my +own bosom! Yes, I do love her,--I do! I, that warn her against earthly +love, I would plunge into hell itself to win hers! And yet, when I know +that the care of her soul is only a temptation and a snare to me, I +cannot, will not give her up! No, I cannot!--no, I will not! Why should +I _not_ love her? Is she not pure as Mary herself? Ah, blessed is he +whom such a woman leads! And I--I--have condemned myself to the society +of swinish, ignorant, stupid monks,--I must know no such divine souls, +no such sweet communion! Help me, blessed Mary!--help a miserable +sinner!" + +Agnes left the confessional perplexed and sorrowful. The pale, proud, +serious face of the cavalier seemed to look at her imploringly, and she +thought of him now with the pathetic interest we give to something noble +and great exposed to some fatal danger. "Could the sacrifice of my whole +life," she thought, "rescue this noble soul from perdition, then I shall +not have lived in vain. I am a poor little girl; nobody knows whether +I live or die. He is a strong and powerful man, and many must stand or +fall with him. Blessed be the Lord that gives to his lowly ones a +power to work in secret places! How blessed should I be to meet him in +Paradise, all splendid as I saw him in my dream! Oh, that would be worth +living for,--worth dying for!" + + * * * * * + + +THE AQUARIUM. + + +The sumptuous abode of Licinius Crassus echoes with his sighs and +groans. His children and slaves respect his profound sorrow, and leave +him with intelligent affection to solitude,--that friend of great grief, +so grateful to the afflicted soul, because tears can flow unwitnessed. +Alas! the favorite sea-eel of Crassus is dead, and it is uncertain +whether Crassus can survive it! + +This sensitive Roman caused his beloved fish to be buried with great +magnificence: he raised a monument to its memory, and never ceased to +mourn for it. So say Macrobius and Aelian. + +This man, we are told, who displayed so little tenderness towards his +servants, had an extraordinary weakness concerning his fine sea-eels. He +passed his life beside the superb fish-pond, where he lovingly +fattened them from his own hand. Nor was his fondness for pisciculture +exceptional in his times. The fish-pond, to raise and breed the +finest varieties of fish, was as necessary an adjunct to a complete +establishment as a barn-yard or hen-coop to a modern farmer or rural +gentleman. Wherever there was a well-appointed Roman villa, it contained +a _piscina_; while many gardens near the sea could boast also a +_vivarium_, which, in this connection, means an oyster-bed. + +Fish-ponds, of course, varied with the wealth, the ingenuity, and the +taste of their owners. Many were of vast size and of heterogeneous +contents. The costly _Muraena_, the carp, the turbot, and many other +varieties, sported at will in the great inclosures prepared for them. +The greater part of the Roman emperors were very fond of sea-eels. +The greedy Vitellius, growing tired of this dish, would at last, as +Suetonius assures us, eat only the soft roe; and numerous vessels +ploughed the seas in order to obtain it for him. The family of Licinius +took their surname of Muraena from these fish, in order thus to +perpetuate their silly affection for them. The love of fish became a +real mania, and the _Murcena Helena_ was worshipped. + +Hortensius, who possessed three splendid country-seats, constructed in +the grounds of his villa at Bauli a fish-tank so massive that it has +endured to the present day, and so vast as to gain for it even then the +name of _Piscina Mircihilis_. It is a subterraneous edifice, vaulted, +and divided by four rows of arcades and numerous columns,--some ten +feet deep, and of very great extent. Here the largest fishes could be +fattened at will; and even the mighty sturgeon, prince of good-cheer, +might find ample accommodations. + +Lucullus, that most ostentatious of patricians, and autocrat of +_bons-vivants_, had a mountain cut through in the neighborhood of +Naples, so as to open a canal, and bring up the sea and its fishes to +the centre of the gardens of his sumptuous villa. So Cicero well names +him one of the Tritons of fish-pools. His country-seat of Pausilypum +resembled a village rather than a villa, and, if of less extent, was +more magnificent in luxury than the gigantic villa of Hadrian, near +Tivoli. Great masses of stone-work are still visible, glimmering under +the blue water, where the marble walls repelled the waves, and ran out +in long arcades and corridors far into the sea. Inlets and creeks, +which wear even now an artificial air, mark the site of _piscinae_ and +refreshing lakes. Here were courts, baths, porticoes, and terraces, in +the _villa urbana_, or residence of the lord,--the _villa rustica_ for +the steward and slaves,--the _gallinarium_ for hens,--the _apiarium_ for +bees,--the _suile_ for swine,--the _villa fructuaria_, including the +buildings for storing corn, wine, oil, and fruits,--the _horius_, or +garden,--and the park, containing the fish-pond and the _vivarium_. +Statues, groves, and fountains, pleasure-boats, baths, jesters, and even +a small theatre, served to vary the amusements of the lovely grounds and +of the tempting sea. + +But it was not to be supposed that men satiated with the brutal shows +of the amphitheatre, even if enervated by their frequentation of the +Suburra, could, on leaving the city, be always content with simple +pleasures, rural occupations, or pleasure-sails. Habit demanded +something more exciting; and the ready tragedy of a fish-pond filled +with ravenous eels fed upon human flesh furnished the needed excitement. +For men _blasé_ with the spectacles of lions and tigers lacerating the +_bestiarii_. It was much more exciting to witness a swarm of sea-eels +tearing to pieces an awkward or rebellious slave. Vedius Pollio, a Roman +knight of the highest distinction, could find nothing better to do for +his dear Muraenae than to throw them slaves alive; and he never +failed to have sea-eels served to him after their odious repast, says +Tertullian. It is true, these wretched creatures generally deserved this +terrible punishment; for instance, Seneca speaks of one who had the +awkwardness to break a crystal vase while waiting at supper on the +irascible Pollio. + +Pisciculture was carried so far that fish-ponds were constructed on +the roofs of houses. More practical persons conducted a stream of +river-water through their dining-rooms, so that the fish swam under the +table, and it "was only necessary to stoop and pick them out the moment +before eating them; and as they were often cooked on the table, their +perfect freshness was thus insured. Martial (Lib. X., Epigram. XXX., vv. +16-25) alludes to this custom, as well as to the culture and taming of +fish in the _piscina_. + + "Nec seta largo quaerit in mari praedam, + Sed e cubiclo lectuloque jactatam + Spectatus alte lineam trahit piscis. + Si quando Nereus sentit Aeoli regnum, + Ridet procellas tula de suo mensa. + Piscina rhombum pascit et lupos vernas, + Nomenculator mugilem citat notum + Et adesse jussi prodeunt senes mulli." + +It having been remarked that the red mullet passed through many changes +of color in dying, like the dolphin, fashion decreed that it should die +upon the table. Served alive, inclosed in a glass vessel, it was cooked +in the presence of the attentive guests, by a slow fire, in order +that they might gloat upon its sufferings and expiring hues, before +satisfying their appetites with its flesh. + +It will not surprise us to learn that the eminent _gourmand_ Apicius +offered a prize to the inventor of a new sauce made of mullets' livers. + +But we may remark, that fish, like all other natural objects, were +studied by the ancients only to pet or to eat. All their views of +Nature were essentially selfish; none were disinterested, reverential, +deductive, or scientific. Nature ministered only to their appetites, +in her various kinds of food,--to their service, in her beasts of +burden,--or to their childish or ferocious amusement, with talking +birds, as the starling, with pet fish, or with pugnacious wild beasts. +There was no higher thought. The Greeks, though fond of flowers, and +employing them for a multitude of adornments and festive occasions +entirely unequalled now, yet did not advance to their botanical study or +classification. The Roman, if enamored of the fine arts, could see no +Art in Nature. There was no experiment, no discovery, and but little +observation. The whole science of Natural History, which has assumed +such magnitude and influence in our times, was then almost entirely +neglected. + +And yet what an opportunity there was for the naturalist, had a single +enthusiast arisen? All lands, all climes, and all their natural +productions were subservient to the will of the Emperor. The orb of the +earth was searched for the roe of eels or the fins of mullets to gratify +Caesar. And the whole world might have been explored, and specimens +deposited in one gigantic museum in the Eternal City, at the nod of a +single individual. But the observer, the lover of Nature, was wanting; +and the whole world was ransacked merely to consign its living tenants +to the _vivaria_, and thence to the fatal arena of the amphitheatre. Yet +even here the naturalist might have pursued his studies on individuals, +and even whole species, both living and dead, without quitting Rome. The +animal kingdom lay tributary at his feet, but served only to satiate his +appetite or his passions, and not to enrich his mind. + +So, again, Rome's armies traversed the globe, and her legions were often +explorers of hitherto unknown regions. But no men of science, no corps +of _savans_ was attached to her cohorts, to march in the footsteps +of conquest and gather the fruits of victory to enrich the schools. +Provinces were devastated, great cities plundered, nations made captive, +and all the masterpieces of Art borne off to adorn Rome. But Nature was +never rifled of her secrets; nor was discovery carried beyond the most +material things. The military spirit stifled natural science. + +There were then, to be sure, no tendencies of thought to anything but +war, pleasure, literature, or art. There was comparatively no knowledge +of the physical sciences, whose culture Mr. Buckle has shown to have +exerted so powerful an influence on civilization. The convex lens--as +since developed into the microscope, the giver of a new world to +man--was known to Archimedes only as an instrument to burn the enemy's +fleet. + + * * * * * + +Modern pisciculture in some measure imitates, although, it does not +rival the ancient. Many methods have been devised in France and England +of breeding and nurturing the salmon, the trout, and other valuable +fish, which are annually becoming more scarce in all civilized +countries. But all this is on a far different principle from that +pursued at Rome. We follow pisciculture from necessity or economy, +because fish of certain kinds are yearly dying out, and to produce +a cheap food; but the Romans followed it as a luxury, or a childish +amusement, alone. And although our aldermen may sigh over a missing +Chelonian, as Crassus for his deceased eel, or the first salmon of the +season bring a fabulous price in the market, yet the time has long +passed when the gratification of appetite is alone thought of in +connection with Nature. We know that living creatures are to be studied, +as well as eaten; and that the faithful and reverent observation of +their idiosyncrasies, lives, and habits is as healthful and pleasing to +the mind as the consumption of their flesh is wholesome and grateful +to the body. The whole science of Zoölogy has arisen, with its simple +classifications and its vast details. The _vivaria_ of the Jardin des +Plantes rival those of the Colosseum in magnitude, and excel them in +object. Nature is ransacked, explored, and hunted down in every field, +only that she may add to the general knowledge. Museums collect and +arrange all the types of creative wisdom, from the simple cell to man. +Science searches out their extinct species and fossil remains, and tells +their age by Geology. The microscope pursues organic matter down into an +infinity of smallness, proportionately as far as the telescope traces it +upwards in the infinity of illimitable space. Last of all, though not +till long after the earth and the air had been seemingly exhausted, +the desire of knowledge began to push its way into the arcana of the +sea,--that hidden half of Nature, where are to be found those wonders +described by Milton at the Creation,--where, in obedience to the Divine +command, + + "Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas + And lakes and running streams the waters fill, ... + Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay, + With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals + Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales + Glide under the green wave in sculls that oft + Bank the mid sea: part single or with mate + Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through groves + Of coral stray, or sporting with quick glance + Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold, + Or in their pearly shells at ease attend + Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food + In jointed armor watch." + +But no means were at hand to pursue these unknown creatures to their +unknown residences, and to observe their manners when at home. Single, +withered, and often mutilated specimens of minute fish, mollusks, or +radiata, in the museum, alone illustrated the mysteries of the deep sea. +Fish, to be sure, could be kept for longer or shorter periods in globes +of glass filled with water; but the more delicate creatures inevitably +perished soon after their removal from their mysterious abodes. Such +a passionate desire to "search Nature and know her secrets" finally +originated the idea of the Aquarium. + +The term _vivarium_ was used among the ancients to signify many +things,--from the dens of the wild animals which opened under the +Colosseum, to an oyster-bed; and so now it may mean any collection of +living creatures. Hence it could convey no distinct idea of a marine +collection such as we propose to describe. The term _aqua_ was added to +express the watery element; but the compound _aqua-vivarium_ was too +clumsy for frequent employment, and the abbreviated word _aquarium_ has +come into general use. + +Thus the real Aquarium is a water-garden and a menagerie combined,--and +aims to show life beneath the waters, both animal and vegetable, in +all the domestic security of its native home, and in all the beauty, +harmony, and nice adaptation of Nature herself. It is no sudden +discovery, but the growth of a long and patient research by naturalists. + +"What happens, when we put half a dozen gold-fish into a globe? The +fishes gulp in water and expel it at the gills. As it passes through the +gills, whatever free oxygen the water contains is absorbed, and carbonic +acid given off in its place; and in course of time, the free oxygen of +the water is exhausted, the water becomes stale, and at last poisonous, +from excess of carbonic acid. If the water is not changed, the fishes +come to the surface and gulp atmospheric air. But though they naturally +breathe air (oxygen) as we do, yet they are formed to extract it from +the water; and when compelled to take air from the surface, the gills, +or lungs, soon get inflamed, and death at last puts an end to their +sufferings. + +"Now, if a fish-globe be not overcrowded with fishes, we have only +to throw in a goodly handful of some water-weed,--such as the +_Callitriche_, for instance,--and a new set of chemical operations +commences at once, and it becomes unnecessary to change the water. The +reason of this is easily explained. Plants absorb oxygen as animals +do; but they also absorb carbonic acid, and from the carbonic add thus +absorbed they remove the pure carbon, and convert it into vegetable +tissue, giving out the free oxygen either to the water or the air, as +the case may be. Hence, in a vessel containing water-plants in a state +of healthy growth, the plants exhale more oxygen than they absorb, and +thus replace that which the fishes require for maintaining healthy +respiration. Any one who will observe the plants in an aquarium, when +the sun shines through the tank, will see the leaves studded with bright +beads, some of them sending up continuous streams of minute bubbles. +These beads and bubbles are pure oxygen, which the plants distil from +the water itself, in order to obtain its hydrogen, and from carbonic +acid, in order to obtain its carbon."[A] + +[Footnote A:_The Book of the Aquarium_, by Sidney Hibbert.] + +Thus the water, if the due proportion of its animal and vegetable +tenants be observed, need never be changed. This is the true Aquarium, +which aims to imitate the balance of Nature. By this balance the whole +organic world is kept living and healthy. For animals are dependent upon +the vegetable kingdom not only for all their food, but also for +the purification of the air, which they all breathe, either in the +atmosphere or in the water. The divine simplicity of this stupendous +scheme may well challenge our admiration. Each living thing, animal or +plant, uses what the other rejects, and gives back to the air what the +other needs. The balance must be perfect, or all life would expire, and +vanish from the earth. + +This is the balance which we imitate in the Aquarium. It is the whole +law of life, the whole scheme of Nature, the whole equilibrium of our +organic world, inclosed in a bottle. + +For the rapid evolution of oxygen by plants the action of sunlight is +required. That evolution becomes very feeble, or ceases entirely, in the +darkness of the night. Some authorities assert even that carbonic acid +is given off during the latter period. So, too, they claim that there +are two distinct processes carried on by the leaves of plants,--namely, +respiration and digestion: that the first is analogous to the same +process in animals; and that by it oxygen is absorbed from, and carbonic +acid returned to the atmosphere, though to a limited degree: and that +digestion consists in _the decomposition of carbonic acid by the green +tissues of the leaves under the stimulus of the light, the fixation of +solid carbon, and the evolution of pure oxygen_. The theory of distinct +respiration has been somewhat doubted by the highest botanical authority +of this country; but the theory of digestion is indisputable. And it is +no less certain that all forms of vegetation give to the air much more +free oxygen than they take from it, and much less carbonic acid, as +their carbonaceous composition shows. If fresh leaves are placed in +a bell-glass containing air charged with seven or eight per cent. of +carbonic acid, and exposed to the light of the sun, it will be found +that a large proportion of the carbonic acid will have disappeared, and +will be replaced by pure oxygen. But this change will not be effected in +the dark, nor by any degree of artificial light. Under water the oxygen +evolved from healthy vegetation can be readily collected as it rises, as +has been repeatedly proved. + +Why carbonic acid is, to a limited degree, given off by the plant in the +night, is merely because the vital process, or the fixation of carbon +and evolution of oxygen, ceases when the light is withdrawn. The plant +is only in a passive state. Ordinary chemical forces resume their sway, +and the oxygen of the air combines with the newly deposited carbon to +reproduce a little carbonic acid. But this must be placed to the account +of decomposing, not of growing vegetation; for by so much as plants +grow, they decompose carbonic acid and give its oxygen to the air, or, +in other words, purify the air. + +It has been found by experiment, that every six pounds of carbon in +existing plants has withdrawn twenty-two pounds of carbonic acid gas +from the atmosphere, and replaced it with sixteen pounds of oxygen gas, +occupying the same bulk. And when we consider the amount of carbon that +is contained in the tissues of living, and of extinct vegetation also, +in the form of peat and coal, we may have some idea of the vast body of +oxygen which the vegetable kingdom has added to the atmosphere. + +And it is also to be considered, that this is the only means we know of +whereby free oxygen is given to supply the quantity constantly consumed +in respiration, combustion, and other vast and endless oxygen-using +processes. It follows, therefore, that animals are dependent upon plants +for their pure oxygen, as well as for their food. But the vegetable +kingdom might exist independently of the animal; since plants may derive +enough carbon from the soil, enriched by the decaying members of their +own race. + +There is, however, one exception to the law that plants increase the +amount of oxygen in the air. During flowering and fruiting, the stores +of carbon laid up in the plant are used to support the process, and, +combining with the oxygen of the air, both carbonic acid and heat are +given off. This has been frequently proved. In large tropical plants, +where an immense number of blossoms are crowded together, the +temperature has risen twenty to fifty degrees above that of the +surrounding air. + +As most of the aquatic plants are cryptogamous, or producing by spores, +and not by flowers, it seems probable that the evolution of carbonic +acid and heat is much less in degree in them, and therefore less in the +water than in the air. We may, therefore, venture to lay it down as a +general principle, that plants evolve free oxygen in water, when in +the sunlight, and remove the carbonic acid added to the water by the +respiration of the animals. + +But since this is a digestive or nutritive process, it follows that +aquatic plants may derive much or all of their food from the water +itself, or the carbon in it, in the same manner as the so-called +air-plant, which grows without soil, does from the air. It is true, at +any rate, that, in the fresh-water aquarium, the river and brook plants +need no soil but pebbles; and that the marine plants have no proper +root, but are attached by a sort of sucker or foot-stalk to stones and +masses of rock. It is very easy to see, then, how the aquarium may +be made entirely self-supporting; and that, excepting for the larger +carnivorous fish, who exhaust in a longer or shorter period the minute +creatures on which they live, no external food is required. + +A very simple experiment will prove the theory and practicability of the +aquarium. In a glass jar of moderate size was placed a piece of _Ulva +latissima_, or Sea-Lettuce, a broad-leaved, green, aquatic plant, and a +small fish. The mouth was closed by a ground glass stopper. The jar was +exposed to the light daily; the water was never changed; nor was the +glass stopper removed, excepting to feed the fish, once or twice a week, +with small fragments of meat. At the end of eight months both remained +flourishing: the fish was lively and active; and the plant had more than +half filled the bottle with fresh green leaves. + +Any vessel that will hold water can, of course, be readily converted +into an aquarium. But as we desire a clear view of the contents at all +times, glass is the best material. And since glass globes refract the +light irregularly and magnify and distort whatever is within them, we +shall find an advantage in having the sides of the aquarium parallel and +the form rectangular. As the weight of the aquarium, when filled with +water, is enormous,--far more than we should at first imagine,--it +follows that it must be capable of resisting pressure both from above +and from within. The floor and stand, the frame and joints must be +strong and compact, and the walls of plate or thick crown glass. The +bottom should be of slate; and if it is designed to attach arches of +rock-work inside to the ends, they, too, must be of slate, as cement +will not stick to glass. The frame should be iron, zinc, or well-turned +wood; the joints closed with white-lead putty; the front and back of +glass. There is one objection to having the side which faces the light +of transparent glass, and that is that it transmits too much glare of +sunlight for the health of the animals. In Nature's aquarium the light +enters only from above; and the fish and delicate creatures have always, +even then, the shady fronds of aquatic plants or the shelter of the +rocks,--as well as the power of seeking greater depths of water, where +the light is less,--to protect themselves from too intense a sunshine. +It is, therefore, sometimes advisable to have the window side of the +aquarium made of glass stained of a green color. It is desirable that +all aquarial tanks should have a movable glass cover to protect them +from dust, impure gases, and smoke. + +When we speak of an aquarium, we mean a vessel holding from eight to +thirty gallons of water. Mr. Gosse describes his larger tank as being +two feet long by eighteen inches wide and eighteen inches deep, and +holding some twenty gallons. Smaller and very pretty tanks may be +made fifteen inches long by twelve inches wide and twelve deep. Great +varieties in form and elegance may be adapted to various situations. + +There are two kinds of aquaria, the fresh- and the salt-water: the one +fitted for the plants and animals of ponds and rivers; the other for the +less known tenants of the sea. They are best described as the River and +the Marine Aquarium, and they differ somewhat from each other. We shall +speak first of the fresh-water aquarium. + +The tank being prepared, and well-seasoned, by being kept several weeks +alternately full and empty, and exposed to the sun and air, so that all +paint, oil, varnish, tannin, etc., may be wholly removed, the next thing +is to arrange the bottom and to plant it. Some rough fragments of rock, +free from iron or other metals that stain the water, may be built into +an arch with cement, or piled up in any shape to suit the fancy. The +bottom should be composed entirely of shingle or small pebbles, well +washed. Common silver sand, washed until the water can be poured through +it quite clear, is also suitable. + +Mould, or soil adapted to ordinary vegetation, is not necessary to +the aquatic plants, and is, moreover, worse than useless; since it +necessitates the frequent changing of the water for some time, in order +to get rid of the soluble vegetable matter, and promotes the growth of +Confervae, and other low forms of vegetation, which are obnoxious. + +Aquatic plants of all kinds have been found to root freely and flourish +in pebbles alone, if their roots be covered. The plants should be +carefully cleared of all dead parts; the roots attached to a small +stone, or laid on the bottom and covered with a layer of pebbles and +sand. + +The bottom being planted, the water may be introduced through a +watering-pot, or poured against the side of the tank, so as to avoid any +violent agitation of the bottom. The water should be pure and bright. +River-water is best; spring-water will do, but must be softened by the +plants for some days before the fishes are put in. + +Sunshine is good for the tank at all seasons of the year. The +fresh- requires more than the salt-water aquarium. The amount of +oxygen given off by the plants, and hence their growth and the +sprightliness of the fishes, are very much increased while the sun +is shining on them. + +In selecting plants for the aquarium some regard is to be paid to the +amount of oxygen they will evolve, and to their hardiness, as well as to +their beauty. When it is desired to introduce the fishes without waiting +long for the plants to get settled and to have given off a good supply +of oxygen, there is no plant more useful than the _Callitricke_, or +Brook Star-wort. It is necessary to get a good supply, and pick off the +green heads, with four or six inches only of stem; wash them clean, +and throw them into the tank, without planting. They spread over the +surface, forming a rich green ceiling, grow freely, and last for months. +They are continually throwing out new roots and shoots, and create +abundance of oxygen. Whenever desired, they can be got rid of by simply +lifting them out. + +The _Vallisneria_, or Tape-Grass, common in all our ponds, is essential +to every fresh-water tank. It must be grown as a bottom-plant, and +flourishes only when rooted. The _Nitella_ is another pleasing variety. +The _Ranunculus aquatilis_, or Water-Crowfoot, is to be found in almost +every pond in bloom by the middle of May, and continues so into the +autumn. It is of the buttercup family, and may be known as a white +buttercup with a yellow centre. The floating leaves are fleshy; the +lower ones finely cut. It must be very carefully washed, and planted +from a good joint, allowing length enough of stem to reach the surface. +Some of the blossom-heads may also be sprinkled over the surface, where +they will live and bloom all through the summer. The _Hydrocharis_, +or Frog's-Bit, and the _Alisma_, or Water-Plantain, are also easily +obtained, hardy and useful, as well as pleasing. Many rarer and more +showy varieties may be cultivated; we have given only the most common +and essential. All the varieties of _Chara_ are interesting to the +microscopist, as showing the phenomenon of the circulation of the sap, +or Cyclosis. + +Of the living tenants of the aquarium, those most interesting, as well +as of the highest organization, are the fishes. And among fishes, the +family of the _Cyprinidae_ are the best adapted to our purpose; for we +must select those which are both hardy and tamable. _Cyprinus gibelio_, +the Prussian Carp, is one of the best. It will survive, even if the +water should accidentally become almost exhausted of oxygen. It may +be taught, also, to feed from the hand. None of the carp are very +carnivorous. _Cyprinus auratus_, or the Gold-fish, is one of the most +ornamental objects in an aquarium. But the Minnow, _C. phoxinus_, is the +jolliest little fish in the tank. He is the life of the collection, and +will survive the severest trials of heat and cold. The Chub, a common +tenant of our ponds, is also a good subject for domestication. The +Tench and Loach are very interesting, but also very delicate. Among the +spiny-finned fishes, the Sticklebacks are the prettiest, but so savage +that they often occasion much mischief. For a vessel containing +twelve gallons the following selection of live stock is among those +recommended: Three Gold Carp, three Prussian Carp, two Perch, four +large Loach, a dozen Minnows, six Bleak, and two dozen Planorbis. Some +varieties of the Water-Beetles, or Water-Spiders, which the fishes +do not eat, may also well be added. The Newt, too, is attractive and +harmless. + +All may go on well, and the water remain clear; but after the tank has +been established several weeks, the inner sides of the glass will show a +green tinge, which soon increases and interferes with the view. This is +owing to the growth of a minute confervoid vegetation, which must be +kept down. For this purpose the Snail is the natural remedy, being the +ready scavenger of all such nuisances. Snails cling to the sides, and +clean away and consume all this vegetable growth. The _Lymnea_ is among +the most efficient, but unfortunately is destructive, by eating holes +in the young fronds of the larger plants, and thus injuring their +appearance. To this objection some other varieties of snail are not +open. The _Paludina_ and _Planorbis_ are the only kinds which are +trustworthy. The former is a handsome snail, with a bronze-tinted, +globular shell; the latter has a spiral form. These will readily reduce +the vegetation. And to preserve the crystal clearness of the water, some +Mussels may be allowed to burrow in the sand, where they will perform +the office of animated filters. They strain off matters held in +suspension in the water, by means of their siphons and ciliated gills. +With these precautions, a well-balanced tank will long retain all the +pristine purity of Nature. + +Specimens for the river aquarium may be readily obtained in almost +any brook or pool, by means of the hand-net or dredge. It will be +astonishing to see the variety of objects brought up by a successful +haul. Small fish, newts, tadpoles, mollusks, water-beetles, worms, +spiders, and spawn of all kinds will be visible to the naked eye; while +the microscope will bring out thousands more of the most beautiful +objects. + +A very different style of appearance and of objects distinguishes the +Salt-water or Marine Aquarium. + +As the greater part of the most curious live stock of the salt-water +aquarium live upon or near the bottom, so the marine tank should be more +shallow, and allow an uninterrupted view from above. Marine creatures +are more delicately constituted than fresh-water ones; and they demand +more care, patience, and oversight to render the marine aquarium +successful. + +Sea-sand and pebbles, washed clean, form the best bottom for the +salt-water aquarium. It must be recollected that many of the marine +tenants are burrowers, and require a bottom adapted to their habits. +Some rock-work is considered essential to afford a grateful shelter and +concealment to such creatures as are timid by nature, and require a spot +in which to hide: this is true of many fishes. Branches of coral, bedded +in cement, may be introduced, and form beautiful and natural objects, on +which plants will climb and droop gracefully. + +Sea-water dipped from the open sea, away from the mouths of rivers, +is, of course, the best for the marine aquarium. If pure, it will bear +transportation and loss of time before being put into the tank. It may, +however, not always be possible to get sea-water, particularly for the +aquarium remote from the seaboard, and it is therefore fortunate that +artificial sea-water will answer every purpose. + +The composition of natural sea-water is, in a thousand parts, +approximately, as follows: Water, 964 parts; Common Salt, 27; Chloride +of Magnesium, 3.6; Chloride of Potassium, 0.7; Sulphate of Magnesia, +(Epsom Salts,) 2; Sulphate of Lime, 1.4; Bromide of Magnesium, Carbonate +of Lime, etc., .02 to .03 parts. Now the Bromide of Magnesium, and +Sulphate and Carbonate of Lime, occur in such small quantities, that +they can be safely omitted in making artificial seawater; and besides, +river and spring water always contain a considerable proportion of lime. +Therefore, according to Mr. Gosse, we may use the following formula: In +every hundred parts of the solid ingredients, Common Salt, 81 parts; +Epsom Salts, 7 parts; Chloride of Magnesium, 10 parts; Chloride of +Potassium, 2 parts; and of Water about 2900 parts, although this must be +accurately determined by the specific gravity. The mixture had better +be allowed to stand several days before filling the tank; for thus the +impurities of the chemicals will settle, and the clear liquor can be +decanted off. The specific gravity should then be tested with the +hydrometer, and may safely range from 1026 to 1028,--fresh water being +1000. If a quart or two of real sea-water can be obtained, it is a very +useful addition to the mixture. It may now be introduced into the tank +through a filter. But no living creatures must be introduced until the +artificial water has been softened and prepared by the growth of the +marine plants in it for several weeks. Thus, too, it will be oxygenated, +and ready for the oxygen-using tenants. + +It is a singular fact, that water which has been thus prepared, with +only four ingredients, will, after being a month or more in the +aquarium, acquire the other constituents which are normally present in +minute quantities in the natural sea-water. It must derive them from the +action of the plants or animals, or both. Bromine may come from sponges, +or sea-wrack, perhaps. Thus artificial water eventually rights itself. + +The tank, having been prepared and seasoned with the same precaution +used for the river aquarium, and having a clear bottom and a supply of +good water, is now ready for planting. Many beautifully colored and +delicately fringed Algae and Sea-Wracks will be found on the rocks at +low tide, and will sadly tempt the enthusiast to consign their delicate +hues to the aquarium. All such temptations must be resisted. Green is +the only color well adapted for healthy and oxygenating growth in the +new tank. A small selection of the purple or red varieties may perhaps +be introduced and successfully cultivated at a later day, but they are +very delicate; while the olives and browns are pretty sure to die and +corrupt the water. It must be remembered, too, that the Algae are +cryptogamous, and bear no visible flowers to delight the eye or fancy. +Of all marine plants, the _Ulva latissima_, or Sea-Lettuce, is first and +best. It has broad, light-green fronds, and is hardy and a rapid grower, +and hence a good giver of oxygen. Next to this in looks and usefulness +comes the _Enteromorpha compressa_, a delicate, grass-like Alga. After +a while the _Chondrus crispus_, or common Carrageen Moss, may be chosen +and added. These ought to be enough for some months, as it is not safe +to add too many at once. Then the green weeds _Codium tomentosum_ and +_Cladophora_ may be tried; and, still later, the beautiful _Bryopsis +plumosa_. But it is much better to be content with a few Ulvae, and +others of that class, to begin with; for a half dozen of these will +support quite a variety of animal life. + +After a few hardy plants are well set, and thriving for a week or two, +and the water is clear and bubbly with oxygen, it will be time to look +about for the live stock of the marine aquarium. Fishes, though most +attractive, must be put in last; for as they are of the highest +vitality, so they require the most oxygen and food, and hence should not +be trusted until everything in the tank is well a-going. + +The first tenants should be the hardy varieties of the Sea-Anemones, +or _Actiniae_,--which are Polyps, of the class Radiata. The _Actinia +mesembryanthemum_ is the common smooth anemone, abounding on the coast, +and often to be found attached to stones on the beach. "When closed," +says Mr. Hibbert, "it has much resemblance to a ripe strawberry, +being of a deep chocolate color, dotted with small yellow spots. When +expanded, a circle of bright blue beads or tubercles is seen within the +central opening; and a number of coral-like fingers or tentacles unfold +from the centre, and spread out on all sides." It remains expanded for +many days together, if the water be kept pure; and, having little desire +for locomotion, stays, generally, about where it is placed. It is +a carnivorous creature, and seeks its food with its ever-searching +tentacles, thus drawing in fishes and mollusks, but, most frequently, +the minute Infusoria. Like other polyps, it may be cut in two, and each +part becomes a new creature. It is a very pretty and hardy object in the +aquarium. There are many varieties, some of which are very delicate, as +the _Actinia anguicoma_, or Snaky-locked Anemone, and the pink and brown +_Actinia bellis_, which so resembles a daisy. Others, as the _Actinia +parasitica_, are obtainable only by deep-sea dredging; "and, as its name +implies, it usually inhabits the shell of some defunct mollusk. And more +curious still, in the same shell we usually find a pretty crab, who +acts as porter to the anemone. He drags the shell about with him like +a palanquin, on which sits enthroned a very bloated, but gayly-dressed +potentate, destitute of power to move it for himself."[B] + +[Footnote B: Hibbert's _Book of the Aquarium_.] + +The _Actinia gemmacea_, or Gemmed Anemone, the _Actinia crassicornis_, +and the Plumose Anemone are all beautiful, but tender varieties. + +The Anemones require but little care; they do not generally need +feeding, though the Daisy and Plumose Anemone greedily take minced +mutton, or oyster. But, as a rule, there are enough Infusoria for their +subsistence; and it is safer not to feed them, as any fragments not +consumed will decay, and contaminate the water. + +Next in order of usefulness, hardiness, and adaptability to the new +aquarium, come the Mollusks. And of these, Snails and Periwinkles claim +our respectful attention, as the most faithful, patient, and necessary +scavengers of the confervoid growths, which soon obscure the marine +aquarium. + +"It is interesting," says Mr. Gosse, "to watch the business-like way in +which the Periwinkle feeds. At very regular intervals, the proboscis, a +tube with thick fleshy walls, is rapidly turned inside out to a certain +extent, until a surface is brought into contact with the glass having a +silky lustre; this is the tongue; it is moved with a short sweep, +and then the tubular proboscis infolds its walls again, the tongue +disappearing, and every filament of Conferva being carried up into the +interior, from the little area which had been swept. The next instant, +the foot meanwhile having made a small advance, the proboscis unfolds +again, the makes another sweep, and again the whole is withdrawn; and +this proceeds with great regularity. I can compare the action to nothing +so well as to the manner in which the tongue of an ox licks up the grass +of the field, or to the action of the mower cutting swath after swath." + +Of Crustacea, the Prawns and the smaller kinds of Crabs may be +admitted to the aquarium, though but sparingly. They are rude, noisy, +quarrelsome, and somewhat destructive,--but, for the same reason, +amusing tenants of the tank. + +All are familiar with the mode in which the Soldier or Hermit Crab takes +possession of and lives in the shells of Whelks and Snails. Poorly +protected behind by Nature, the homeless crab wanders about seeking a +lodging. Presently he meets with an empty shell, and, after probing it +carefully with his claw to be sure it is not tenanted, he pops into it +back foremost in a twinkling, and settles himself in his new house. +Often, too, he may be seen balancing the conveniences of the one he is +in and of another vacant lodging he has found in his travels; and he +even ventures out of his own, and into the other, and back again, before +being satisfied as to their respective merits. In all these manoeuvres, +as well as in his daily battles with his brethren, he is one of the +drollest of creatures. + +As we advance in our practice with the aquarium we may venture to +introduce more delicate lodgers. Such are the beautiful family of the +_Annelidae_: the _Serpula_, in his dirty house; and the _Terebella_, +most ancient of masons, who lays the walls of his home in water-proof +cement. + +The great class of Zoöphytes can be introduced, but many varieties of +them will be found already within the aquarium, in the company of their +more bulky neighbors. These peculiar creatures, or things, form the +boundary where the last gleam of animal life is so feeble and flickering +as to render it doubtful whether they belong to the animal or vegetable +kingdom. Agassiz calls them _Protozoa_,--Primary Existences. Some divide +them into two great classes, namely: the _Anthozoa_, or Flower-Life; and +the _Polyzoa_, or Many-Life, in which the individuals are associated in +numbers. They are mostly inhabitants of the water; all are destitute of +joints, nerves, lungs, and proper blood-vessels; but they all possess +an _irritable_ system, in obedience to which they expand or contract at +will. Among the _Anthozoa_ are the Anemones; among the _Polyzoa_, +are the Madrepores, or Coral-Builders, and many others. Many are +microscopic, and belong to the class of animalcules called _Infusoria_. + +A very remarkable quality which the Infusoria possess--one very useful +for the aquarium, and one which would seem to settle their place in the +_vegetable_ kingdom--is that they _exhale oxygen_ like plants. This has +been proved by Liebig, who collected several jars of oxygen from tanks +containing Infusoria only. + +A piece of honeycomb coral (_Eschara foliacea_) is easily found, and, +when well selected and placed in the aquarium, may continue to grow +there by the labors of its living infusorial tenants: they are not +unworthy rivals of the Madrepores, or deep-sea coral-builders of warmer +latitudes. The walls of its cells are not more than one-thirtieth of an +inch in thickness, and each cell has its occupant. So closely are they +packed, that in an area of one-eighth of an inch square the orifices of +forty-five cells can be counted. As these are all double, this would +give five thousand seven hundred and sixty cells to the square inch. Now +a moderate-sized specimen will afford, with all its convolutions, +at least one hundred square inches of wall, which would contain a +population of five hundred and seventy-six thousand inhabitants,--a very +large city. So says Mr. Gosse. We cannot forbear, with him, from quoting +Montgomery's lines on the labors of the coral-worms, which modern +science has enabled us to study in our parlors. + + "Millions on millions thus, from age to age, + With simplest skill, and toil unweariable, + No moment and no movement unimproved, + Laid line on line, on terrace terrace spread, + To swell the heightening, brightening, gradual mound, + By marvellous structure climbing towards the day. + Each wrought alone, yet all together wrought, + Unconscious, not unworthy instruments, + By which a hand invisible was rearing + A new creation in the secret deep. + .....I saw the living pile ascend, + The mausoleum of its architects, + Still dying upwards as their labors closed; + Slime the material, but the slime was turned + To adamant by their petrific touch: + Frail were their frames, ephemeral their lives, + Their masonry imperishable." + +The deep-sea soundings taken recently for the Atlantic telegraph have +demonstrated the existence of organic life even at the bottom of the +ocean. Numerous living Infusoria have been brought to the light of day, +from their hidden recesses, by the lead. "Deeper than ever plummet +sounded" before these latter days, there exist myriads of minute +creatures, and of Algae to furnish their food. It is an unanswered +problem, How they can resist the enormous pressure to which they must +be there subjected, amounting, not infrequently, to several tons to the +square inch. And still another point of interest for us springs +from this. It is an inquiry of practical importance to the aquarian +naturalist, How far the diminished pressure which they meet with in the +tank, on being transferred from their lower homes to the aquarium, may +influence their viability. May not some of the numerous deaths in the +marine tank be reasonably attributed to this lack of pressure? + +What a difference, too, has Nature established, in the natural power to +resist pressure, between those creatures which float near the surface +and those which haunt the deeper sea! The Jelly-fish can live only near +the top of the water, and, floating softly through a gentle medium, is +yet crushed by a touch; while the Coral-builder bears the superincumbent +weight of worlds on his vaulted cell with perfect impunity. + +Another important question is, How far alteration in the amount of light +may affect the more delicate creatures. What fishes do without light has +been solved by the darkness of the Mammoth Cave, the tenants of whose +black pools are eyeless, evidently because there is nothing to see. The +more deeply located Infusoria and Mollusks must dwell in an endless +twilight; for Humboldt has found, by experiment, that at a depth one +hundred and ninety-two feet from the surface the amount of sunlight +which can penetrate is equal only to one-half of the light of an +ordinary candle one foot distant. + +Thus ever in gloom, yet in a state of constant safety from storms and +the agitations of the upper air, the thousand forms of low organic life +and cryptogamic vegetation live and thrive in peace and quietness. + + "The floor is of sand like the mountain drift, + And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow; + From the coral rocks the sea-plants lift + Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow. + + * * * * * + + "And life in rare and beautiful forms + Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, + And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms + Has made the top of the waves his own."[C] + +[Footnote C: Percival.] + +Upon the bottom, at various depths, lies that brilliant Radiate--type of +his class--the Star-fish. These are quiet and harmless creatures, and +favorites in the aquarium, from the pretty contrast they make with +marine plants and other objects. + +The perfect transparency, elegant form, and graceful navigation of the +_Medusae_, or Jelly-fishes, render them much admired in their native +haunts, and prized for the aquarium. But they are very delicate. How +beautiful and remarkable are these headless _Discophori_, as they +float, and propel themselves with involutions of their disks and gently +trailing tentacles, and the central peduncle hanging far below, like the +clapper of a transparent bell! And yet these wonders are but so much +sea-water, inclosed in so slight a tissue that it withers in the sun, +and leaves only a minute spot of dried-up gelatinous substance behind. + +Finally come the Fishes, many of which are of similar genera to those +recommended for the fresh-water tank. The Black Goby is familiar, +tamable, but voracious; the Gray Mullet is very hardy, but also rather +savage; the Wrasses are some of the most showy fish,--called in some +parts of the country Cunners,--and of these, the Ancient Wrasse, +(_Labrus maculatus_,) covered with a network of vermilion meshes on a +brown and white ground, is the most elegant. + +Some points of general management are so important, and some dangers so +imminent, that we cannot pass them by unnoticed. The aquarian enthusiast +is very apt to be in too great haste to see everything going on, and +commits the common error of trying too many things at once. The aquarium +must be built up slowly and tentatively, object by object: plants first, +and of the simplest kinds; and not until they are well settled, and the +water beaded with oxygen bubbles, should we think of introducing living +creatures,--and even then only the hardier kinds of actinias, mollusks, +and crabs. All delicate animals must be intrusted one by one to their +new home, and carefully watched for deaths and decay, which, whether +arising from dead plants or animals, ruin everything very quickly, +unless they be promptly removed. For sulphuretted hydrogen, even in very +minute quantities, is sure death to all these little creatures. + +The emanations from paint and putty are often fatal in new tanks. +Several weeks' exposure to water, air, and sunlight is necessary to +season the new-made aquarium. Of equal consequence is it that the water +be absolutely pure; and if brought from the sea, care must be exercised +about the vessel containing it. Salt acts upon the glazing of earthen +ware of some kinds. Stone or glass jars are safest. New oak casks are +fatal from the tannin which soaks out; fir casks are safe and good. So +delicate and sensitive are the minute creatures which people the sea, +that they have been found dead on opening a cask in which a new oak +bung was the only source of poison. And no wonder; for a very slight +proportion of tannic acid in the water corrugates and stiffens the thin, +smooth skin of the anemone, like the tanning of leather. + +A certain natural density of the sea-water must also be preserved, +ranging between no wider limits than 1026 and 1028. And in the open tank +evaporation is constantly deranging this, and must be met by a supply +from without. As the pure water alone evaporates, and the salts and +earthy or mineral constituents are left behind, two things result: the +water remaining becomes constantly more dense; and this can be remedied +only by pure fresh water poured in to restore the equilibrium. Hence the +marine aquarium must be replenished with _fresh water_, until the proper +specific gravity, as indicated by the hydrometer, is restored. + +The aquarium may be found some morning with a deep and permanent green +stain discoloring the water. This unsightly appearance is owing to the +simultaneous development of the spores of multitudes of minute Algae and +Confervae, and can be obviated by passing the water through a charcoal +filter. When any of the fishes give signs of sickness or suffocation, by +coming to the surface and gulping air, they may be revived by having the +water aerated by pouring it out repeatedly from a little elevation, or +by a syringe. The fishes are sometimes distressed, also, when the room +gets too warm for them. A temperature of 60° is about what they require. +And they will stand cold, many of them, even to being frozen with the +water into ice, and afterwards revive. + +The degree of light should be carefully regulated by a stained glass +side, or a shade. Yet it must be borne in mind that sunlight is +indispensable to the free evolution of oxygen by the plants. And when +the sun is shining on the water, all its occupants appear more lively, +and the fishes seem intoxicated--as they doubtless are--with oxygen. + +A novice is apt to overstock his aquarium. Not more than two +moderate-sized fishes to a gallon of water is a safe rule. Care, too, +must be taken to group together those kinds of creatures which are not +natural enemies, or natural food for each other, or a sad scene of +devastation and murder will ensue. + +Cleansing cannot be always intrusted to snails. But the sides may be +scrubbed with a soft swab, made of cotton or wick-yarn. Deaths will +occasionally take place; and even suicide is said to be resorted to by +the wicked family of the Echinoderms. + +To procure specimens for the aquarium requires some knack and knowledge. +The sea-shore must be haunted, and even the deep sea explored. At the +extreme low-water of new or full moon tides, the rocks and tide-pools +are to be zealously hunted over by the aquarian naturalist. Several +wide-mouthed vials and stone jars are necessary; and we would repeat, +that no plant should be taken, unless its attachment is preserved. It +is often a long and difficult job to get some of the Algae; with their +tender connections unsevered from the hard rock, which must be chipped +away with the chisel, and often with the blows of the hammer deadened by +being struck under water. It is by lifting up the overhanging masses of +slimy fuel, tangles, and sea-grass, that we find the delicate varieties, +as the _Chondrus_ with its metallic lustre, and the red _Algae_, or the +stony _Corallina_, which delights in the obscurity of shaded pools. + +The sea-weeds will be found studded with mollusks,--as Snails and +Periwinkles of many queer varieties. Anemones, of the more common kinds, +are found clinging to smooth stones. Crabs on the sand. Prawns, Shrimps, +Medusae, and fishes of many species, in the little pools which the tide +leaves behind, and which it will require a sharp eye and a quick hand +to explore with success. But the rarer forms of Actinias, Star-fishes, +Sepioles, Madrepores, Annelidae, and Zoophytes, of a thousand shapes, +live on the bottom, in deep water, and must be captured there. + +For this purpose we must dredge from a boat, under sail. The +naturalist's dredge is an improved oyster-dredge, with each of the two +long sides of the mouth made into a scraping lip of iron. The body is +made of spun-yarn, or fishing-line, netted into a small mesh. Two long +triangles are attached by a hinge to the two short sides of the frame, +and meeting in front, at some distance from the mouth, are connected by +a swivel-joint. To this the dragging rope is bent, which must be three +times as long, in dredging, as the depth of the water. This is fastened +to the stern of a boat under sail, and thus the bottom is raked of +all sorts of objects; among which, on emptying the net, many living +creatures for the aquarium are found. These may be placed temporarily in +jars; though plants, mollusks, Crustacea and Actiniae may be kept and +transmitted long distances packed in layers of moist sea-weed. + +For all this detail, labor, and patient care, we may reasonably find +two great objects: first, the cultivation and advancement of natural +science; second, the purest delight and healthiest amusement. + +In the aquarium we have a most convenient field for the study of +Natural History: to learn the varieties, nature, names, habits, and +peculiarities of those endless forms of animated existence which dwell +in the hidden depths of the sea, and at the same time to improve our +minds by cultivating our powers of observation. + +The pleasure derived from the aquarium comes from the excitement of +finding and collecting specimens, as well as from watching the tank +itself. There can be no more pleasant accompaniment to the sea-side walk +of the casual visitor or summer resident of a watering-place, than to +search for marine plants and animals among the fissures, rocks, and +tide-pools of the sea-washed beach or cape. + +Nature is always as varied as beautiful. Thousands of strange forms +sport under the shadow of the brown, waving sea-weeds, or among the +delicate scarlet fronds of the dulse, which is found growing in the +little ponds that the inequalities of the beach have retained. It is +down among the great boulders which the Atlantic piles upon our coast, +that we may find endless varieties of life to fill the aquarium, though +not those more gorgeous hues which distinguish the tenants of the coral +reefs on tropical shores. Yet even here Nature is absolutely infinite; +and we shall find ourselves, day after day, imitating that botanist who, +walking through the same path for a month, found always a new plant +which had escaped his notice before. So, too, in exploring the open sea, +besides the pleasure of sailing along a variegated coast, with sun and +blue water, we have the constant excitement of unexpected discovery: +for, as often as we pull up the dredge, some new wonder is revealed. + +Words fail to describe the wonders of the sea. And all that we drag +from the bottom, all that we admire in the aquarium, are but a few +disconnected specimens of that infinite whole which makes up their home. + +So, too, in watching the aquarium itself, we shall see endless +repetitions of those "sea-changes" which Shakspeare sang. Ancient +mythology typified the changing wonders of aquatic Nature, as well +as the fickleness of the treacherous sea, in those shifting deities, +Glaucus and Proteus, who tenanted the shore. + +The one the fancy of Ovid metamorphosed from a restless man to a fickle +sea-god; the other assumed so many deceptive shapes to those who visited +his cave, that his memory has been preserved in the word Protean. Such +fancies well apply to a part of Nature which shifts like the sands, and +ranges from the hideous Cuttle-fish and ravenous Shark to the delicate +Medusa, whose graceful form and trailing tentacles float among the +waving fronds of colored Algae, like + + "Sabrina fair, + Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, + In twisted braids of lilies knitting + The loose train of her amber-dropping hair." + + * * * * * + + +THE YOUNG REPEALER. + + +About eighteen years ago, when I was confined to two rooms by illness +of long standing, I received a remarkable note by post one day. The +envelope, bearing the Dublin postmark, was addressed in a good, bold, +manly handwriting; but the few lines within showed traces of agitation. +What I am going to relate is a true story,--altogether true, so far as +I can trust my memory,--except the name of the Young Repealer. I might +give his real name without danger of hurting any person's feelings but +one; but, for the sake of that one, who will thus be out of the reach +of my narrative, I speak of him under another name. Having to choose +a name, I will take a thoroughly Irish one, and call my correspondent +Patrick Monahan. + +The few lines which showed agitation in the handwriting were calm +in language, but very strange. Patrick Monahan told me that he was +extremely unhappy, and that he had reason to believe that I, and I +alone, could do him good. This, with the address,--to a certain number +in a street in Dublin,--was all. + +There was little time before the post went out; I was almost unable to +write from illness; but, after a second glance at this note, I felt that +I dared not delay my reply. I did not think that it was money that he +wished to ask. I did not think that he was insane. I could not conceive +why he should apply to me, nor why he did not explain what he wished +from me; but I had a strong impression that it was safest to reply at +once. I did so, in half a dozen lines, promising to write next day, +after a further attempt to discover his meaning, and begging him to +consider how completely in the dark I was as to him and his case. It was +well that I wrote that day. Long after, when he was letting me into all +the facts of his life, he told me that he had made my replying at once +or not the turning-point of his fate. If the post had brought him +nothing, he would have drowned himself in the Liffey. + +My second letter was the only sort of letter that it could be,--an +account of my own conjectures about him, and of my regret that I could +see no probability of my being of use to him, except in as far as my +experience of many troubles might enable me to speak suitably to him. I +added some few words on the dangers attending any sort of trouble, when +too keenly felt. + +In answer to my first note came a few lines, telling me that the purpose +of his application was mainly answered, and that my reply was of +altogether greater consequence than I could have any idea of. He was +less unhappy now, and believed he should never be so desperately +wretched again. Wild as this might appear, I was still persuaded that he +was not insane. + +By the next post came a rather bulky packet. It contained, besides a +letter from him, two or three old parchment documents, which showed that +Patrick's forefathers had filled some chief municipal offices in the +city in which the family had been settled for several generations. I had +divined that Patrick was a gentleman; and he now showed me that he came +of a good and honorable family, and had been well-educated. He was an +orphan, and had not a relation in the world,--if I remember right. It +was evident that he was poor; but he did not ask for money, nor seem to +write on that account. He aspired to a literary life, and believed +he should have done so, even if he had had the means of professional +education. But he did not ask me for aid in trying his powers in +literature. It was very perplexing; and the fact became presently clear +that he expected me to tell him how I could be of use to him,--he being +in no way able to afford me that information. I may as well give here +the key to the mystery, which I had to wait for for some time. When poor +Patrick was in a desperate condition,--very ill, in a lodging of which +he could not pay the rent,--threatened with being turned into the street +as soon as the thing could be done without danger to his life,--galled +with a sense of disgrace, and full of impotent wrath against an +oppressor,--and even suffering under deeper griefs than these,--at such +a time, the worn man fell asleep, and dreamed that I looked kindly upon +him. This happened three times; and on this ground, and this alone, he +applied to me for comfort. + +Before I learned this much, I had taken upon me to advise freely +whatever occurred to me as best, finding Patrick entirely docile under +my suggestions. Among other things, I advised him not to take offence, +or assume any reserve, if a gentleman should call on him, with a desire +to be of use to him. A gentleman did call, and was of eminent use to +him. I had written to a benevolent friend of mine, a chief citizen of +Dublin, begging him to obtain for me, through some trusty clerk or other +messenger, some information as to what Patrick was like,--how old he +was, what he was doing, and whether anything effectual could be done for +him. Mr. H. went himself. He found Patrick sitting over a little fire +in a little room, his young face thin and flushed, and his thin hands +showing fever. He had had inflammation of the lungs, and, though he +talked cheerfully, he was yet very far from well. Mr. H. was charmed +with him. He found in him no needless reserves, and not so much +sensitive pride as we had feared. Patrick had great hopes of sufficient +employment, when once he could get out and go and see about it; and he +pointed out two or three directions in which he believed he could obtain +engagements. Two things, however, were plain: that there was some +difficulty about getting out, and that his mind was set upon going +to London at the first possible moment. He had not only the ordinary +provincial ambition to achieve an entrance into the London literary +world, but he had another object: he could serve his country best in +London. Mr. H. easily divined the nature of the obstacle to his going +out into the fresh air which he needed so much; and in a few days +Patrick had a good suit of clothes. This was Mr. H.'s doing; and he also +removed the danger of Patrick's being turned out of his lodging. +The landlord had no wish to do such a thing; the young man was a +gentleman,--regular and self-denying in his habits, and giving no +trouble that he could help: but he had been very ill; and it was so +desolate! Nobody came to see him; no letters arrived for him; no +money was coming in, it was clear; and he could not go on living +there,--starving, in fact. + +Once able to go about again, Patrick cheered up; but it was plain that +there was one point on which he would not be ruled. He would not stay +in Dublin, under any inducement whatever; and he would go to London. +I wrote very plainly to him about the risk he was running,--even +describing the desolate condition of the unsuccessful literary +adventurer in the dreary peopled wilderness, in which the friendless may +lie down and die alone, as the starved animal lies down and perishes in +the ravine in the desert. I showed him how impossible it was for me or +anybody to help him, except with a little money, till he had shown what +he could do; and I entreated him to wait two years,--one year,--six +months, before rushing on such a fate. Here, and here alone, he was +self-willed. At first he explained to me that he had one piece of +employment to rely on. He was to be the London correspondent of the +Repeal organ in Dublin,--the "Nation" newspaper. The pay was next to +nothing. He could not live, ever so frugally, on four times the amount: +but it was an engagement; and it would enable him to serve his country. +So, as there was nothing else to be done, Mr. H. started him for London, +with just money enough to carry him there. Once there, he was sure he +should do very well. + +I doubted this; and he was met, at the address he gave, (at an Irish +greengrocer's, the only person he knew in London,) by an order for money +enough to carry him over two or three weeks,--money given by two or +three friends to whom I ventured to open the case. I have seldom read +a happier letter than Patrick's first from London; but it was not even +then, nor for some time after, that he told me the main reason of his +horror at remaining in Dublin. + +He had hoped to support himself as a tutor while studying and practising +for the literary profession; and he had been engaged to teach the +children of a rich citizen,--not only the boys, but the daughter. He, an +engaging youth of three-and-twenty, with blue eyes and golden hair, an +innocent and noble expression of countenance, an open heart, a glowing +imagination, and an eloquent tongue, was set to teach Latin and literary +composition to a pretty, warm-hearted, romantic girl of twenty; and when +they were in love and engaged, the father considered himself the victim +of the basest treachery that ever man suffered under. In vain the young +people pleaded for leave to love and wait till Patrick could provide a +home for his wife. They asked no favor but to be let alone. Patrick's +family was as good as hers; and he had the education and manners of a +gentleman, without any objectionable habits or tastes, but with every +possible desire to win an honorable home for his beloved. I am not sure, +but I think there was a moment when they thought of eloping some day, +if nothing but the paternal displeasure intervened between them and +happiness; but it was not yet time for this. There was much to be done +first. What the father did first was to turn Patrick out of the house, +under such circumstances of ignominy as he could devise. What he did +next was the blow which broke the poor fellow down. Patrick had written +a letter, in answer to the treatment he had received, in which he +expressed his feelings as strongly as one might expect. This letter was +made the ground of a complaint at the police-office; and Patrick was +arrested, marched before the magistrate, and arraigned as the sender of +a threatening letter to a citizen. In vain he protested that no idea of +threatening anybody had been in his mind. The letter, as commented on by +his employer, was pronounced sufficiently menacing to justify his being +bound over to keep the peace towards this citizen and all his family. +The intention was, no doubt, to disgrace him, and put him out of the +question as a suitor; for no man could pretend to be really afraid of +violence from a candid youth like Patrick, who loved the daughter too +well to lift a finger against any one connected with her. The scheme +succeeded; for he believed it had broken his heart. He supposed himself +utterly disgraced in Dublin; and he could live there no longer. Hence +his self-will about going to London. + +In addition to this personal, there was a patriotic view. Very early in +our correspondence, Patrick told me that he was a Repealer. He fancied +himself a very moderate one, and likely on that account to do the more +good. Those were the days of O'Connell's greatest power; or, if it was +on the wane, no one yet recognized any change. Patrick knew one of the +younger O'Connells, and had been flatteringly noticed by the great Dan +himself, who had approved the idea of his going to London, hoped to see +him there some day, and had prophesied that this young friend of his +would do great things for the cause by his pen, and be conspicuous among +the saviours of Ireland. Patrick's head was not quite turned by this; +and he lamented, in his letters to me, the plans proposed and the +language held by the common run of O'Connell's followers. Those were the +days when the Catholic peasantry believed that "Repale" would make every +man the owner of the land he lived on, or of that which he wished to +live on; and the great Dan did not disabuse them. Those were the days +when poor men believed that "Repale" would release every one from the +debts he owed; and Dan did not contradict it. When Dan was dead, the +consequence of his not contradicting it was that a literal-minded fellow +here and there shot the creditor who asked for payment of the coat, or +the pig, or the meal. For all this delusion Patrick was sorry. He was +sorry to hear Protestant shopmen wishing for the day when Dublin streets +would be knee-deep in Catholic blood, and to hear Catholic shopmen +reciprocating the wish in regard to Protestant blood. He was anxious to +make me understand that he had no such notions, and that he even thought +O'Connell mistaken in appearing to countenance such mistakes. But still +he, Patrick, was a Repealer; and he wished me to know precisely what he +meant by that, and what he proposed to do in consequence. He thought it +a sin and shame that Ireland should be trodden under the heel of the +Saxon; he thought the domination of the English Parliament intolerable; +he considered it just that the Irish should make their own laws, own +their own soil, and manage their own affairs. He had no wish to bring in +the French, or any other enemy of England; and he was fully disposed to +be loyal to the Crown, if the Crown would let Ireland entirely alone. +Even the constant persecution inflicted upon Ireland had not destroyed +his loyalty to the Crown. Such were the views on which his letters to +the "Nation" newspaper were to be grounded. In reply, I contented myself +with proposing that he should make sure of his ground as he went along; +for which purpose he should ascertain what proportion of the people of +Ireland wished for a repeal of the Union; and what sort of people they +were who desired Repeal on the one hand, or continued Union on the +other. I hoped he would satisfy himself as to what Repeal could +and could not effect; and that he would study the history of Irish +Parliaments, to learn what the character and bearing of their +legislation had been, and to estimate the chances of good government by +that kind of legislature, in comparison with the Imperial Parliament. + +If any foreign reader should suppose it impossible, that, in modern +times, there can have been hopes entertained in Dublin of the streets +being inundated with blood, such reader may be referred to the evidence +afforded of Repeal sentiment five years later than the time of which I +write. When the heroes of that rising of 1848--of whom John Mitchell +is the sample best known in America--were tracked in their plans and +devices, it appeared what their proposed methods of warfare were. Some +of these, detailed in Repeal newspapers, and copied into American +journals, were proposed to the patriotic women of Ireland, as their +peculiar means of serving their country; and three especially. Red-hot +iron hoops, my readers may remember, were to be cast down from +balconies, so as to pin the arms of English soldiers marching in the +street, and scorch their hearts. Vitriol was to be flung into their +eyes. Boiling oil was to be poured upon them from windows. This is +enough. Nobody believes that the thing would ever have been done; but +the lively and repeated discussion of it shows how the feelings of the +ignorant are perverted, and the passions of party-men are stimulated in +Ireland, when unscrupulous leaders arise, proposing irrational projects. +The consequences have been seen in Popish and Protestant fights in +Ulster, and in the midnight drill of Phoenix Clubs in Munster, and in +John Mitchell's passion for fat negroes in the Slave States of America. +In Ireland such notions are regarded now as a delirious dream, except +by a John Mitchell here and there. Smith O'Brien himself declares that +there is nothing to be done while the people of Ireland are satisfied +with the government they live under; and that, if it were otherwise, +nothing can be done for a people which either elects jobbers to +Parliament, or suspects every man of being a traitor who proceeds, when +there, to do the business of his function. I suspected that Patrick +would find out some of these things for himself in London; and I left +him to make his own discoveries, when I had pointed out one or two paths +of inquiry. + +The process was a more rapid one than I had anticipated. He reported his +first letter to the "Nation" with great satisfaction. He had begun his +work in London. He went to the House of Commons, and came away sorely +perplexed. After having heard and written so much of the wrongs of +Ireland under the domination of the English Parliament, he found that +Ireland actually and practically formed a part of that Parliament,--the +legislature being, not English, but Imperial. He must have known this +before; but he had never felt it. He now saw that Ireland was as well +represented as England or Scotland; that political offices were held in +fair proportion by Irishmen; and that the Irish members engrossed much +more than a fair share of the national time in debate and projects of +legislation. He saw at once that here was an end of all excuse for talk +of oppression by Parliament, and of all complaints which assumed that +Ireland was unrepresented. He was previously aware that Ireland was +more lightly taxed than the rest of the empire. The question remained, +whether a local legislature would or would not be a better thing than a +share in the Imperial Parliament. This was a fair subject of argument; +but he must now dismiss all notions grounded on the mistake of Ireland +being unrepresented, and oppressed by the representatives of other +people. + +In the letter which disclosed these new views Patrick reported his visit +to O'Connell. He had reminded his friend, the junior O'Connell, of Dan's +invitation to him to go to see him in London; and he had looked forward +to their levee with delight and expectation. Whether he had candidly +expressed his thoughts about the actual representation of Ireland, I +don't know; but it was plain that he had not much enjoyed the interview. +O'Connell looked very well: the levee was crowded: O'Connell was +surrounded by ardent patriots: the junior O'Connell had led Patrick up +to his father with particular kindness. Still, there was no enthusiasm +in the report; and the next letter showed the reason why. Patrick could +not understand O'Connell at all. It was certain that Dan remembered him; +and he could not have forgotten the encouragement he gave him to write +on behalf of his country; yet now he was cold, even repellent in his +manner; and he tried to pretend that he did not know who Patrick was. +What could this mean? + +Again I trusted to Patrick's finding out for himself what it meant. To +be brief about a phase of human experience which has nothing new in it, +Patrick presently saw that the difficulty of governing Ireland by a +local legislature, and executive is this:--that no man is tolerated from +the moment he can do more than talk. Irish members under O'Connell's eye +were for the most part talkers only. Then and since, every Irishman +who accepts the office so vehemently demanded is suspected of a good +understanding with Englishmen, and soon becomes reviled as a traitor +and place-hunter. Between the mere talkers and the proscribed +office-holders, Ireland would get none of her business done, if the +Imperial Government did not undertake affairs, and see that Ireland was +taken care of by somebody or other. Patrick saw that this way of +putting Government in abeyance was a mild copy of what happened when a +Parliament sat in Dublin, perpetrating the most insolent tyranny and the +vilest jobs ever witnessed under any representative system. He told me, +very simply, that the people of Ireland should send to Parliament men +whom they could trust, and should trust them to act when there: the +people should either demand a share of office for their countrymen, or +make up their minds to go without; they ought not first to demand office +for Irishmen, and then call every Irishman a traitor and self-seeker who +took it. In a very short time he told me that he found he had much to +unlearn as well as learn: that many things of which he had been most +sure now turned out to be mistakes, and many very plain matters to be +exceedingly complicated; but that the one thing about which there could +be no mistake was, that, in such a state of opinion, he was no proper +guide for the readers of the "Nation," and he had accordingly sent in +his resignation of his appointment, together with some notices to the +editor of the different light in which Irish matters appear outside the +atmosphere of Repeal meetings. + +In thus cutting loose from his only means of pecuniary support, Patrick +forfeited also his patriotic character. He was as thoroughly ruined in +the eyes of Repealers as if he had denounced the "Saxon" one hour and +the next crept into some warm place in the Custom-House on his knees. +Here ended poor Patrick's short political life, after, I think, two +letters to the "Nation," and here ended all hope of aid from his +countrymen in London. His letter was very moving. He knew himself to be +mortified by O'Connell's behavior to him; but he felt that he could not +submit to be regarded with suspicion because he had come to see for +himself how matters stood. He did not give up Repeal yet: he only wanted +to study the case on better knowledge; and in order to have a +perfectly clear conscience and judgment, he gave up his only pecuniary +resource,--his love and a future home being in the distance, and always +in view, all the time. Here, in spite of some lingering of old hopes, +two scenes of his young life had closed. His Irish life was over, and +his hope of political service. + +I had before written about him to two or three literary friends in +London; and now I felt bound to see what could be done in opening a way +for him. He had obtained the insertion of a tale in a magazine, for +which he had one guinea in payment. This raised his spirits, and gave +him a hope of independence; for it was a parting of the clouds, and +there was no saying how much sunlight might be let down. He was willing +to apply himself to any drudgery; but his care to undertake nothing that +he was not sure of doing well was very striking. He might have obtained +good work as classical proof-corrector; but he feared, that, though his +classical attainments were good, his training had not qualified him +for the necessary accuracy. He had some employment of the sort, if I +remember right, which defrayed a portion of his small expenses. His +expenses were indeed small. He told me all his little gains and his +weekly outlay; and I was really afraid that he did not allow himself +sufficient food. Yet he knew that there was a little money in my hands, +when he wanted it. His letters became now very gay in spirits. He keenly +relished the society into which he was invited; and, on the other hand, +everybody liked him. It was amusing to me, in my sick room, three +hundred miles off, to hear of the impression he made, with his +innocence, his fresh delight in his new life, his candor, his modesty, +and his bright cleverness,--and then, again, to learn how diligently he +had set about learning what I, his correspondent, was really like. In +his dreams he had seen me very aged,--he thought upwards of eighty; and +he had never doubted of the fact being so. In one letter he told me, +that, finding a brother of mine was then in London, he was going that +afternoon to a public meeting to see him, in order to have some idea of +my aspect. A mutual friend told me afterwards that Patrick had come away +quite bewildered and disappointed. He had expected to see in my brother +a gray-haired ancient; whereas he found a man under forty. I really +believe he was disturbed that his dreams had misled him. Yet I never +observed any other sign of superstition in him. + +At last the happy day came when he had a literary task worthy of him,--a +sort of test of his capacity for reviewing. One of the friends to whom +I had introduced him was then sub-editor of the "Athenaeum,"--a weekly +periodical of higher reputation at that time than now. Patrick was +commissioned to review a book of some weight and consequence,--Sir +Robert Kane's "Industrial Resources of Ireland,"--and he did it so well +that the conductors hoped to give him a good deal of employment. What +they gave him would have led to more; and thus he really was justified +in his exultation at having come to London. I remember, that, in the +midst of his joy, he startled me by some light mention of his having +spit blood, after catching cold,--a thing which had happened before in +Ireland. In answer to my inquiries, my friends told me that he certainly +looked very delicate, but made light of it. It happened, unfortunately, +that he was obliged just then to change his lodging. He increased his +cold by going about in bad weather to look for another. He found one, +however, and settled himself, in hope of doing great things there. + +He had not been there a week before he rang his bell one day, and was +found bleeding from the lungs. His landlady called in a physician; +and it is probable that this gentleman did not know or suspect the +circumstances of his patient; for he not only ordered ice and various +expensive things, but took fees, while the poor patient was lying +forbidden to speak, and gnawed with anxiety as to where more money was +to come from, and with eagerness to get to work. His friends soon found +him out in his trouble; and I understood from him afterwards, and from +others who knew more about it than he did, that they were extremely +kind. I believe that one left a bank-note of a considerable amount at +the door, in a blank envelope. All charges were defrayed, and he was +bidden not to be anxious. Yet something must be done. What must it be? + +As soon as he was allowed to raise his head from his pillow, he wrote me +a note in pencil; and it afforded an opening for discussing his affairs +with him. He had some impression of his life's being in danger; for it +was now that he confided to me the whole story of his attachment, and +the sufferings attending it: but he was still sanguine about doing great +things in literature, and chafing at his unwilling idleness. I was +strongly of opinion that the best way of dealing with him was to be +perfectly open; and, after proposing that we should have no reserves, I +told him what (proceeding on his own report of his health) I should in +his place decide upon doing. His pride would cause him some pain in +either of the two courses which were open to him,--but, I thought, more +in one than the other. If he remained in his lodgings, he would break +his heart about being a burden (as he would say) to his friends; and he +would fret after work so as to give himself no chance of such recovery +as might be hoped for: whereas, if he could once cheerfully agree to +enter a hospital, he would have every chance of rallying, and all the +sooner for being free from any painful sense of obligation. If the +treatment should succeed, this passage in his life would be something to +smile at hereafter, or to look back upon with sound satisfaction; and if +not, he would have friends about him, just as he would in a lodging. + +The effect was what I wished. My letter gave no offence, and did him no +harm. He only begged for a few days more, before deciding that he might +satisfy himself whether he was getting well or not: if not, he would +cheerfully go wherever his friends advised, and believe that the plan +was the best for him. + +In those few days arrangements were made for his being received at +the Sanatorium,--an institution in which sick persons who had either +previously subscribed, or who were the nominees of subscribers, were +received, and well tended for a guinea a week, under the comfortable +circumstances of a private house. Each patient had a separate chamber; +and the medical attendance, diet, and arrangements were of a far higher +order than poor Patrick could have commanded in lodgings. Above all, the +resident surgeon--now a distinguished physician, superintendent of a +lunatic asylum--was a man to make a friend of,--a man of cultivated +mind, tender heart, and cheerful and gentle manners. Patrick won his +heart at once; and every note of Patrick's glowed with affection for +Doctor H--. After a few weeks of alternating hope and fear, after a +natural series of fluctuations of spirits, Patrick wrote me a remarkably +quiet letter. He told me that both his doctors had given him a plain +answer to his question whether he could recover. They had told him +that it was impossible; but he could not learn from them how long they +thought he would live. He saw now, however, that he must give up his +efforts to work. He believed he could have worked a little: but perhaps +he was no judge; and if he really was dying, he could not be wrong in +obeying the directions of those who had the care of him. Once afterwards +he told me that his physicians did not, he saw, expect him to live many +months,--perhaps not even many weeks. + +It was now clear to my mind what would please him best. I told him, +that, if he liked to furnish me with the address of that house in Dublin +in which his thoughts chiefly lived, I would take care that the young +lady there should know that he died in honor, having fairly entered upon +the literary career which had always been his aspiration, and surrounded +by friends whose friendship was a distinction. His words in reply were +few, calm, and fervent, intimating that he now had not a care left in +the world: and Doctor H--wondered what had happened to make him so gay +from the hour he received my letter. + +His decline was a rapid one; and I soon learned, by very short notes, +that he hardly left his bed. When it was supposed that he would never +leave his room again, he surprised the whole household by a great feat. +I should have related before what a favorite he was with all the other +patients. He was the sunshine of the house while able to get to the +drawing-room, and the pet of each invalid by the chamber-fire. On +Christmas morning, he slipped out of bed, and managed to get his clothes +on, while alone, and was met outside his own door, bent on giving a +Christmas greeting to everybody in the house. He was indulged in this; +for it was of little consequence now what he did. He appeared at each +bedside, and at every sofa,--and not with any moving sentiment, but with +genuine gayety. It was full in his thoughts that he had not many days to +live, but he hoped the others had; and he entered into their prospect +of renewed health and activity. At night they said that Patrick had +brightened their Christmas Day. + +He died very soon after,--sinking at last with perfect +consciousness,--writing messages to me on his slate while his fingers +would hold the pencil,--calm and cheerful without intermission. After +his death, when the last offices were to be begun, my letters were taken +warm from his breast. Every line that I had ever written to him was +there; and the packet was sent to me by Doctor H--bound round with the +green ribbon which he had himself tied before he quite lost the power. +The kind friends who had watched over him during the months of his +London life wrote to me not to trouble myself about his funeral. They +buried him honorably, and two of his distinguished friends followed him +to the grave. + +Of course, I immediately performed my promise. I had always intended +that not only the young lady, but her father, should know what we +thought of Patrick, and what he might have been, if he had lived. I +wrote to that potential personage, telling him of all the facts of the +case, except the poverty, which might be omitted as essentially a slight +and temporary circumstance. I reported of his life of industry and +simple self-denial,--of his prospects, his friendships, his sweet and +gay decline and departure, and his honorable funeral. No answer was +needed; and I had supposed there would hardly be one. If there should +be one, it was not likely to be very congenial to the mood of Patrick's +friends: but I could hardly have conceived of anything so bad as it was. +The man wrote that it was not wonderful that any young man should get on +under the advantage of my patronage; and that it was to be hoped that +this young man would have turned out more worthy of such patronage than +he was when he ungratefully returned his obligations to his employer by +engaging the affections of his daughter. The young man had caused great +trouble and anxiety to one who, now he was dead, was willing to forgive +him; but no circumstance could ever change the aspect of his conduct, +in regard to his treacherous behavior to his benefactor; and so forth. +There was no sign of any consciousness of imprudence on the father's +own part; but strong indications of vindictive hatred, softened in +the expression by being mixed up with odious flatteries to Patrick's +literary friends. The only compensation for the disgust of this letter +was the confirmation it afforded of Patrick's narrative, in which, it +was clear, he had done no injustice to his oppressor. + +I have not bestowed so much thought as this on the man and his letter, +from the day I received it, till now; but it was necessary to speak of +it at the close of the story. I lose sight of the painful incidents in +thinking of Patrick himself. I only wish I had once seen his face, that +I might know how near the truth is the image that I have formed of him. + +There may have been, there no doubt have been, other such young +Irishmen, whose lives have been misdirected for want of the knowledge +which Patrick gained in good time by the accident of his coming to +England. I fear that many such have lived a life of turbulence, +or impotent discontent, under the delusion that their country was +politically oppressed. The mistake may now be considered at an end. +It is sufficiently understood in Ireland that her woes have been from +social and not political causes, from the day of Catholic emancipation. +But it is a painful thought what Patrick's short life might have been, +if he had remained under the O'Connell influence; and what the lives of +hundreds more have been,--rendered wild by delusion, and wretched by +strife and lawlessness, for want of a gleam of that clear daylight which +made a sound citizen of a passionate Young Repealer. + + + + +BREAD AND THE NEWSPAPER. + + +This is the new version of the _Panem et Circenses_ of the Roman +populace. It is our _ultimatum_, as that was theirs. They must have +something to eat, and the circus-shows to look at. We must have +something to eat, and the papers to read. + +Everything else we can give up. If we are rich, we can lay down our +carriages, stay away from Newport or Saratoga, and adjourn the trip to +Europe _sine die_. If we live in a small way, there are at least new +dresses and bonnets and every-day luxuries which we can dispense with. +If the young Zouave of the family looks smart in his new uniform, +its respectable head is content, though he himself grow seedy as a +caraway-umbel late in the season. He will cheerfully calm the perturbed +nap of his old beaver by patient brushing in place of buying a new one, +if only the Lieutenant's jaunty cap is what it should be. We all take a +pride in sharing the epidemic economy of the time. Only _bread and the +newspaper_ we must have, whatever else we do without. + +How this war is simplifying our mode of being! We live on our emotions, +as the sick man is said in the common speech to be nourished by his +fever. Our common mental food has become distasteful, and what would +have been intellectual luxuries at other times are now absolutely +repulsive. + +All this change in our manner of existence implies that we have +experienced some very profound impression, which will sooner or later +betray itself in permanent effects on the minds and bodies of many among +us. We cannot forget Corvisart's observation of the frequency with which +diseases of the heart were noticed as the consequence of the terrible +emotions produced by the scenes of the great French Revolution. Laennec +tells the story of a convent, of which he was the medical director, +where all the nuns were subjected to the severest penances and schooled +in the most painful doctrines. They all became consumptive soon after +their entrance, so that, in the course of his ten years' attendance, all +the inmates died out two or three times, and were replaced by new ones. +He does not hesitate to attribute the disease from which they suffered +to those depressing moral influences to which they were subjected. + +So far we have noticed little more than disturbances of the nervous +system as a consequence of the war excitement in non-combatants. Take +the first trifling example which comes to our recollection. A sad +disaster to the Federal army was told the other day in the presence of +two gentlemen and a lady. Both the gentlemen complained of a sudden +feeling at the _epigastrium_, or, less learnedly, the pit of the +stomach, changed color, and confessed to a slight tremor about the +knees. The lady had a _"grande revolution_," as French patients +say,--went home, and kept her bed for the rest of the day. Perhaps the +reader may smile at the mention of such trivial indispositions, but in +more sensitive natures death itself follows in some cases from no more +serious cause. An old gentleman fell senseless in fatal apoplexy, on +hearing of Napoleon's return from Elba. One of our early friends, who +recently died of the same complaint, was thought to have had his attack +mainly in consequence of the excitements of the time. + +We all know what the _war fever_ is in our young men,--what a devouring +passion it becomes in those whom it assails. Patriotism is the fire +of it, no doubt, but this is fed with fuel of all sorts. The love of +adventure, the contagion of example, the fear of losing the chance of +participating in the great events of the time, the desire of personal +distinction, all help to produce those singular transformations which +we often witness, turning the most peaceful of our youth into the most +ardent of our soldiers. But something of the same fever in a different +form reaches a good many non-combatants, who have no thought of losing a +drop of precious blood belonging to themselves or their families. Some +of the symptoms we shall mention are almost universal; they are as plain +in the people we meet everywhere as the marks of an influenza, when that +is prevailing. + +The first is a nervous restlessness of a very peculiar character. Men +cannot think, or write, or attend to their ordinary business. They +stroll up and down the streets, they saunter out upon the public places. +We confessed to an illustrious author that we laid down the volume +of his work which we were reading when the war broke out. It was as +interesting as a romance, but the romance of the past grew pale before +the red light of the terrible present. Meeting the same author not long +afterwards, he confessed that he had laid down his pen at the same time +that we had closed his book. He could not write about the sixteenth +century any more than we could read about it, while the nineteenth was +in the very agony and bloody sweat of its great sacrifice. + +Another most eminent scholar told us in all simplicity that he had +fallen into such a state that he would read the same telegraphic +despatches over and over again in different papers, as if they were +new, until he felt as if he were an idiot. Who did not do just the same +thing, and does not often do it still, now that the first flush of the +fever is over? Another person always goes through the side streets on +his way for the noon _extra_,--he is so afraid somebody will meet him +and _tell_ the news he wishes to _read_, first on the bulletin-board, +and then in the great capitals and leaded type of the newspaper. + +When any startling piece of war-news comes, it keeps repeating itself +in our minds in spite of all we can do. The same trains of thought go +tramping round in circle through the brain like the supernumeraries that +make up the grand army of a stage-show. Now, if a thought goes round +through the brain a thousand times in a day, it will have worn as +deep a track as one which has passed through it once a week for +twenty years. This accounts for the ages we seem to have lived +since the twelfth of April last, and, to state it more generally, for +that _ex post facto_ operation of a great calamity, or any very powerful +impression, which we once illustrated by the image of a stain spreading +backwards from the leaf of life open before us through all those which +we have already turned. + +Blessed are those who can sleep quietly in times like these! Yet, not +wholly blessed, either; for what is more painful than the awaking from +peaceful unconsciousness to a sense that there is something wrong, we +cannot at first think what,--and then groping our way about through the +twilight of our thoughts until we come full upon the misery, which, like +some evil bird, seemed to have flown away, but which sits waiting for us +on its perch by our pillow in the gray of the morning? + +The converse of this is perhaps still more painful. Many have the +feeling in their waking hours that the trouble they are aching with is, +after all, only a dream,--if they will rub their eyes briskly enough and +shake themselves, they will awake out of it, and find all their supposed +grief is unreal. This attempt to cajole ourselves out of an ugly fact +always reminds us of those unhappy flies who have been indulging in the +dangerous sweets of the paper prepared for their especial use. + +Watch one of them. He does not feel quite well,--at least, he suspects +himself of indisposition. Nothing serious,--let us just rub our +fore-feet together, as the enormous creature who provides for us rubs +his hands, and all will be right. He rubs them with that peculiar +twisting movement of his, and pauses for the effect. No! all is not +quite right yet.--Ah! it is our head that is not set on just as it ought +to be. Let us settle _that_ where it should be, and _then_ we shall +certainly be in good trim again. So he pulls his head about as an old +lady adjusts her cap, and passes his fore-paw over it like a kitten +washing herself.--Poor fellow! It is not a fancy, but a fact, that he +has to deal with. If he could read the letters at the head of the sheet, +he would see they were _Fly-Paper_.--So with us, when, in our waking +misery, we try to think we dream! Perhaps very young persons may not +understand this; as we grow older, our waking and dreaming life run more +and more into each other. + +Another symptom of our excited condition is seen in the breaking up of +old habits. The newspaper is as imperious as a Russian Ukase; it will be +had, and it will be read. To this all else must give place. If we must +go out at unusual hours to get it, we shall go, in spite of after-dinner +nap or evening somnolence. If it finds us in company, it will not stand +on ceremony, but cuts short the compliment and the story by the divine +right of its telegraphic despatches. + +War is a very old story, but it is a new one to this generation of +Americans. Our own nearest relation in the ascending line remembers the +Revolution well. How should she forget it? Did she not lose her doll, +which was left behind, when she was carried out of Boston, then growing +uncomfortable by reason of cannon-balls dropping in from the neighboring +heights at all hours,--in token of which see the tower of Brattle-Street +Church at this very day? War in her memory means '76. As for the brush +of 1812, "we did not think much about that"; and everybody knows that +the Mexican business did not concern us much, except in its political +relations. No! War is a new thing to all of us who are not in the last +quarter of their century. We are learning many strange matters from our +fresh experience. And besides, there are new conditions of existence +which make war as it is with us very different from war as it has been. + +The first and obvious difference consists in the fact that the whole +nation is now penetrated by the ramifications of a network of iron +nerves which flash sensation and volition backward and forward to and +from towns and provinces as if they were organs and limbs of a single +living body. The second is the vast system of iron muscles which, as it +were, move the limbs of the mighty organism one upon another. What was +the railroad-force which put the Sixth Regiment in Baltimore on the 19th +of April but a contraction and extension of the arm of Massachusetts +with a clenched fist full of bayonets at the end of it? + +This perpetual intercommunication, joined to the power of instantaneous +action, keeps us always alive with excitement. It is not a breathless +courier who comes back with the report from an army we have lost sight +of for a month, nor a single bulletin which tells us all we are to know +for a week of some great engagement, but almost hourly paragraphs, laden +with truth or falsehood as the case may be, making us restless always +for the last fact or rumor they are telling. And so of the movements of +our armies. To-night the stout lumbermen of Maine are encamped under +their own fragrant pines. In a score or two of hours they are among the +tobacco-fields and the slave-pens of Virginia. The war passion burned +like scattered coals of fire in the households of Revolutionary times; +now it rushes all through the land like a flame over the prairie. And +this instant diffusion of every fact and feeling produces another +singular effect in the equalizing and steadying of public opinion. We +may not be able to see a month ahead of us; but as to what has passed, +a week afterwards it is as thoroughly talked out and judged as it would +have been in a whole season before our national nervous system was +organized. + + "As the wild tempest wakes the slumbering sea, + Thou only teachest all that man can be!" + +We indulged in the above apostrophe to War in a Phi Beta Kappa poem of +long ago, which we liked better before we read Mr. Cutler's beautiful +prolonged lyric delivered at the recent anniversary of that Society. + +Oftentimes, in paroxysms of peace and good-will towards all mankind, we +have felt twinges of conscience about the passage,--especially when one +of our orators showed us that a ship of war costs as much to build and +keep as a college, and that every port-hole we could stop would give us +a new professor. Now we begin to think that there was some meaning in +our poor couplet. War _has_ taught us, as nothing else could, what we +can be and are. It has exalted our manhood and our womanhood, and driven +us all back upon our substantial human qualities, for a long time more +or less kept out of sight by the spirit of commerce, the love of art, +science, or literature, or other qualities not belonging to all of us as +men and women. + +It is at this very moment doing more to melt away the petty social +distinctions which keep generous souls apart from each other, than the +preaching of the Beloved Disciple himself would do. We are finding out +that not only "patriotism is eloquence," but that heroism is gentility. +All ranks are wonderfully equalized under the fire of a masked battery. +The plain artisan or the rough fireman, who faces the lead and iron like +a man, is the truest representative we can show of the heroes of +Crecy and Agincourt. And if one of our fine gentlemen puts off his +straw-colored kids and stands by the other, shoulder to shoulder, or +leads him on to the attack, he is as honorable in our eyes and in theirs +as if he were ill-dressed and his hands were soiled with labor. + +Even our poor "Brahmins,"--whom a critic in ground-glass spectacles (the +same who grasps his statistics by the blade and strikes at his +supposed antagonist with the handle) oddly confounds with the "bloated +aristocracy," whereas they are very commonly pallid, undervitalized, +shy, sensitive creatures, whose only birthright is an aptitude for +learning,--even these poor New England Brahmins of ours, _subvirates_ +of an organizable base as they often are, count as full men, if their +courage is big enough for the uniform which hangs so loosely about their +slender figures. + +A young man was drowned not very long ago in the river running under our +windows. A few days afterwards a field-piece was dragged to the water's +edge and fired many times over the river. We asked a bystander, who +looked like a fisherman, what that was for. It was to "break the gall," +he said, and so bring the drowned person to the surface. A strange +physiological fancy and a very odd _non sequitur_; but that is not our +present point. A good many extraordinary objects do really come to the +surface when the great guns of war shake the waters, as when they roared +over Charleston harbor. + +Treason came up, hideous, fit only to be huddled into its dishonorable +grave. But the wrecks of precious virtues, which had been covered with +the waves of prosperity, came up also. And all sorts of unexpected and +unheard-of things, which had lain unseen during our national life of +fourscore years, came up and are coming up daily, shaken from their bed +by the concussions of the artillery bellowing around us. + +It is a shame to own it, but there were persons otherwise respectable +not unwilling to say that they believed the old valor of Revolutionary +times had died out from among us. They talked about our own Northern +people as the English in the last centuries used to talk about the +French,--Goldsmith's old soldier, it may be remembered, called one +Englishman good for five of them. As Napoleon spoke of the English, +again, as a nation of shopkeepers, so these persons affected to consider +the multitude of their countrymen as unwarlike artisans,--forgetting +that Paul Revere taught himself the value of liberty in working upon +gold, and Nathaniel Greene fitted himself to shape armies in the labor +of forging iron. + +These persons have learned better now. The bravery of our free +working-people was overlaid, but not smothered, sunken, but not drowned. +The hands which had been busy conquering the elements had only to change +their weapons and their adversaries, and they were as ready to conquer +the masses of living force opposed to them as they had been to build +towns, to dam rivers, to hunt whales, to harvest ice, to hammer brute +matter into every shape civilization can ask for. + +Another great fact came to the surface, and is coming up every day in +new shapes,--that we are one people. It is easy to say that a man is a +man in Maine or Minnesota, but not so easy to feel it, all through our +bones and marrow. The camp is deprovincializing us very fast. Poor +Winthrop, marching with the city _élégants_, seems almost to have been +astonished to find how wonderfully human were the hard-handed men of the +Eighth Massachusetts. It takes all the nonsense out of everybody, or +ought to do it, to see how fairly the real manhood of a country is +distributed over its surface. And then, just as we are beginning to +think our own soil has a monopoly of heroes as well as of cotton, up +turns a regiment of gallant Irishmen, like the Sixty-Ninth, to show us +that continental provincialism is as bad as that of Coos County, New +Hampshire, or of Broadway, New York. + +Here, too, side by side in the same great camp, are half a dozen +chaplains, representing half a dozen modes of religious belief. When the +masked battery opens, does the "Baptist" Lieutenant believe in his +heart that God takes better care of him than of his "Congregationalist" +Colonel? Does any man really suppose, that, of a score of noble young +fellows who have just laid down their lives for their country, +the _Homoousians_ are received to the mansions of bliss, and the +_Homoiousians_ translated from the battle-field to the abodes of +everlasting woe? War not only teaches what man can be, but it teaches +also what he must not be. He must not be a bigot and a fool in the +presence of that day of judgment proclaimed by the trumpet which calls +to battle, and where a man should have but two thoughts: to do his duty, +and trust his Maker. Let our brave dead come back from the fields where +they have fallen for law and liberty, and if you will follow them to +their graves, you will find out what the Broad Church means; the narrow +church is sparing of its exclusive formulae over the coffins wrapped in +the flag which the fallen heroes had defended! Very little comparatively +do we hear at such times of the dogmas on which men differ; very much of +the faith and trust in which all sincere Christians can agree. It is a +noble lesson, and nothing less noisy than the voice of cannon can teach +it so that it shall be heard over all the angry voices of theological +disputants. + +Now, too, we have a chance to test the sagacity of our friends, and to +get at their principles of judgment. Perhaps most of us will agree that +our faith in domestic prophets has been diminished by the experience of +the last six months. We had the notable predictions attributed to the +Secretary of State, which so unpleasantly refused to fulfil themselves. +We were infested at one time with a set of ominous-looking seers, who +shook their heads and muttered obscurely about some mighty preparations +that were making to substitute the rule of the minority for that of the +majority. Organizations were darkly hinted at; some thought our armories +would be seized; and there are not wanting ancient women in the +neighboring University town who consider that the country was saved by +the intrepid band of students who stood guard, night after night, over +the G.R. cannon and the pile of balls in the Cambridge Arsenal. + +As a general rule, it is safe to say that the best prophecies are those +which the sages _remember_ after the event prophesied of has come to +pass, and remind us that they have made long ago. Those who are rash +enough to predict publicly beforehand commonly give us what they hope, +or what they fear, or some conclusion from an abstraction of their own, +or some guess founded on private information not half so good as what +everybody gets who reads the papers,--_never_ by any possibility a word +that we can depend on, simply because there are cob-webs of contingency +between every to-day and to-morrow that no field-glass can penetrate +when fifty of them lie woven one over another. Prophesy as much as you +like, but always _hedge_. Say that you think the rebels are weaker than +is commonly supposed, but, on the other hand, that they may prove to be +even stronger than is anticipated. Say what you like,--only don't be too +peremptory and dogmatic; we _know_ that wiser men than you have been +notoriously deceived in their predictions in this very matter. + + _Ibis et redibis nunquam in bello peribis._ + +Let that be your model; and remember, on peril of your reputation as a +prophet, not to put a stop before or after the _nunquam_. + +There are two or three facts connected with _time_, besides that already +referred to, which strike us very forcibly in their relation to the +great events passing around us. We spoke of the long period seeming to +have elapsed since this war began. The buds were then swelling which +held the leaves that are still green. It seems as old as Time himself. +We cannot fail to observe how the mind brings together the scenes of +to-day and those of the old Revolution. We shut up eighty years into +each other like the joints of a pocket-telescope. When the young men +from Middlesex dropped in Baltimore the other day, it seemed to bring +Lexington and the other Nineteenth of April close to us. War has always +been the mint in which the world's history has been coined, and now +every day or week or month has a new medal for us. It was Warren that +the first impression bore in the last great coinage; if it is Ellsworth +now, the new face hardly seems fresher than the old. All battle-fields +are alike in their main features. The young fellows who fell in our +earlier struggle seemed like old men to us until within these few +months; now we remember they were like these fiery youth we are cheering +as they go to the fight; it seems as if the grass of our bloody +hill-side was crimsoned but yesterday, and the cannon-ball imbedded in +the church-tower would feel warm, if we laid our hand upon it. + +Nay, in this our quickened life we feel that all the battles from +earliest time to our own day, where Right and Wrong have grappled, are +but one great battle, varied with brief pauses or hasty bivouacs upon +the field of conflict. The issues seem to vary, but it is always a +right against a claim, and, however the struggle of the hour may go, a +movement onward of the campaign, which uses defeat as well as victory to +serve its mighty ends. The very weapons of our warfare change less than +we think. Our bullets and cannon-balls have lengthened into bolts like +those which whistled out of old arbalests. Our soldiers fight with +Bowie-knives, such as are pictured on the walls of Theban tombs, wearing +a newly-invented head-gear as old as the days of the Pyramids. + +Whatever miseries this war brings upon us, it is making us wiser, +and, we trust, better. Wiser, for we are learning our weakness, our +narrowness, our selfishness, our ignorance, in lessons of sorrow and +shame. Better, because all that is noble in men and women is demanded by +the time, and our people are rising to the standard the time calls for. +For this is the question the hour is putting to each of us: Are you +ready, if need be, to sacrifice all that you have and hope for in this +world, that the generations to follow you may inherit a whole country +whose natural condition shall be peace, and not a broken province which +must live under the perpetual threat, if not in the constant presence, +of war and all that war brings with it? If we are all ready for this +sacrifice, battles may be lost, but the campaign and its grand object +must be won. + +Heaven is very kind in its way of putting questions to mortals. We are +not abruptly asked to give up all that we most care for, in view of the +momentous issues before us. Perhaps we shall never be asked to give up +all, but we have already been called upon to part with much that is dear +to us, and should be ready to yield the rest as it is called for. The +time may come when even the cheap public print shall be a burden our +means cannot support, and we can only listen in the square that was once +the market-place to the voices of those who proclaim defeat or victory. +Then there will be only our daily food left. When we have nothing to +read and nothing to eat, it will be a favorable moment to offer a +compromise. At present we have all that Nature absolutely demands,--we +can live on bread and the newspaper. + + * * * * * + + +"UNDER THE CLOUD AND THROUGH THE SEA." + + + So moved they, when false Pharaoh's legion pressed, + Chariots and horsemen following furiously,-- + Sons of old Israel, at their God's behest, + Under the cloud and through the swelling sea. + + So passed they, fearless, where the parted wave, + With cloven crest uprearing from the sand,-- + A solemn aisle before,--behind, a grave,-- + Rolled to the beckoning of Jehovah's hand. + + So led He them, in desert marches grand, + By toils sublime, with test of long delay, + On, to the borders of that Promised Land + Wherein their heritage of glory lay. + + And Jordan raged along his rocky bed, + And Amorite spears flashed keen and fearfully: + Still the same pathway must their footsteps tread,-- + Under the cloud and through the threatening sea. + + God works no otherwise. No mighty birth + But comes by throes of mortal agony; + No man-child among nations of the earth + But findeth baptism in a stormy sea. + + Sons of the Saints who faced their Jordan-flood + In fierce Atlantic's unretreating wave,-- + Who by the Red Sea of their glorious blood + Reached to the Freedom that your blood shall save! + + O Countrymen! God's day is not yet done! + He leaveth not His people utterly! + Count it a covenant, that He leads us on + Beneath the Cloud and through the crimson Sea! + + + + +JOURNAL OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. + + +The following journal was written by the Captain's Quartermaster on +board the Sloop Revenge, of Newport, Rhode Island, on a cruise against +the Spaniards in the year 1741. Rhode Island was famous at that time +for the number and the success of her privateers. There was but little +objection felt to the profession of privateering. Franklin had not yet +roused by his effective protest the moral sentiment of the civilized +world against it. The privateers that were fitted out in those days were +intended for service against foreign enemies; they were not manned by +rebels, with design to ruin their loyal fellow-citizens. England and +Spain were at war, and the West Indian seas were white with the sails of +national fleets and private armed vessels. Privateering afforded a vent +for the active and restless spirits of the colonies; it was not without +some creditable associations; and the life of a privateersman was full +of the charms of novelty, adventure, and risk. This journal shows +something of its character. + +A journal _of all the transactions on board the sloop_ REVENGE, _Benj'n +Norton Com'r by God's grace and under his protection, bound on a +cruising voyage against the Spaniards. Begun June the 5th, 1741_. + +_Friday, 5th._ This day, at 4 A.M., the Cap't went from Taylor's wharf +on board his sloop, which lay off of Connanicut, & at 6 o'clock Cap't +John Freebody [the chief owner] came off in the pinnace with several +hands. We directly weighed anchor with 40 hands, officers included, +bound to New York to get more hands, a Doctor, and some more provisions +and other stores we stood in need of. The wind coming contrary, was +obliged to put back. Came to an anchor again under Connanicut at 8 P.M. + +_Saturday, 6th._ Weighed from under Connanicut at 4 A.M. with a small +breeze of wind. Met several vessells bound to Newport and Boston. At 7 +P.M. anchored under Block Island, over against the £10,000 Pear [pier?]. +Bought 10s. worth of Codfish for the people. + +_Sunday, 7th._ About 4 A.M. weighed from Block Island, and Monday, the +8th instant, at 9 A.M., anchored in Huntington Bay. + +_Tuesday, 9th._ Weighed from Huntington Bay at 3 P.M. At 11 came to the +white stone. Fired a gun & beat the drum to let them know what we were. +The Ferryboat came off & told us we could not get hands at York, for the +sloops fitted by the country had got them all. At 12 came to anchor at +the 2 Brothers. At 4 took an acc't of all the provisions on board, with +the cost; together with a list of all the people on board. Price, a hand +that came with us from Rhode Island, askt leave to go to York to see +his wife. Set a shilling crazy fellow ashore, not thinking him fit to +proceed the Voyage, his name unknown to me. + +_Wednesday, 10th._ This morning, about 5 A.M., Cap't Freebody went up to +York in the pinnace to get provisions and leave to beat about for more +hands. At 1 P.M. the Pinnace returned and brought word to Cap't Norton +from Mr. Freebody that he had waited on his Honour the Gov'r, and that +he would not give him leave to beat up for Volunteers. The chief reason +he gave was that the City was thinned of hands by the 2 country sloops +that were fitted out by the Council to cruise after the Spanish +privateers on the coast, and that his Grace the Duke of Newcastle had +wrote him word, that, if Admiral Vernon or Gen. Wentworth[A] should +write for more recruits, to use his endeavors to get them, so that he +could not give encouragement to any privateers to take their men away. +Three of the hands that went up to York left us. At 4 P.M. Edward +Sampford, our pilot, went ashore in a canoe with four more hands, +without leave from the Cap'n. When he came on board again the Cap'n +talked to him, & found that he was a mutinous, quarrelsome fellow, and +so ordered him to bundle up his clothes & go ashore for good. He carried +with him 5 more hands. After they were gone, I read the articles to +those on board, who readily signed; so hope we shall lead a peaceable +life. Remain, out of the 41 hands that came with us from Rhode Island, +29 hands. + +[Footnote A: Admiral Vernon (whose name is familiar to every +American,--Mount Vernon was named in his honor) was in command of +the British fleet in the Spanish Main. General Wentworth, an officer +"without experience, authority, or resolution," had command of the land +forces in the West Indies. All the North American, colonies, except +Georgia, which was too recently settled, and whose own borders were too +much exposed, had been called upon to give aid to the expedition against +the Spaniards, and a regiment thirty-six hundreds strong was actually +supplied by them. The war was one in which the colonists took an active +interest.] + +_Friday, 12th._ Went to York with a letter from the Cap'n to Mr. +Freebody, who ordered the vessel up to York. Three of our hands left me +to see some negroes burnt,[B] took a pilot in to bring the vessel up, +and so returned on board at 3 P.M. + +[Footnote B: This little, indifferent phrase refers to one of the most +shocking and cruel incidents of the colonial history of New York, the +result of a delusion "less notorious," says Mr. Hildreth, (_Hist, of +the United States, ii. 391_,) "but not less lamentable, than the Salem +witchcraft. The city of New York now contained some seven or eight +thousand inhabitants, of whom twelve or fifteen hundred were slaves. +Nine fires in rapid succession, most of them, however, merely the +burning of chimneys, produced a perfect insanity of terror. An indented +servant-woman purchased her liberty and secured a reward of one hundred +pounds by pretending to give information of a plot formed by a low +tavern-keeper, her master, and three negroes, to burn the city and +murder the whites. This story was confirmed and amplified by an Irish +prostitute convicted of a robbery, who, to recommend herself to mercy, +reluctantly turned informer. Numerous arrests had been already made +among the slaves and free blacks. Many others followed. The eight +lawyers who then composed the bar of New York all assisted by turns in +behalf of the prosecution. The prisoners, who had no counsel, were tried +and convicted upon most insufficient evidence. Many confessed to save +their lives, and then accused others. Thirteen unhappy convicts were +burned at the stake, eighteen were hanged, and seventy-one transported." +Such are the panics of a slaveholding community!] + +_Saturday, 13th._ At 5 A.M. weighed from the 2 Brothers and went to +York. At 7 anchored off the town. Saluted it with 7 guns. Ship't 7 hands +to proceed the voyage. + +_Sunday, 14th._ Between 6 & 7 A.M. came in a brig from Aberdeen with 40 +servants,[C] but brings no news. + +[Footnote C: At this time much of the agricultural and domestic labor in +the colonies, especially south of New England, was performed by indented +servants brought from Great Britain, Ireland, and Germany. They were +generally an ill-used class. Their services were purchased of the +captains who brought them over; the purchaser had a legal property in +them during the time they were bound for, could sell or bequeath them, +and, like other chattels, they were liable to be seized for debts.] + +_Thursday, 18th._ At 11 A.M. our pilot came on board with 4 of our men +that had left us when the Cap'n turned Edward Sampford ashore. At 2 P.M. +the Cap'n ordered our gunner to deliver arms to them that had none. +25 hands fitted themselves. Great firing at our buoy, supposing him a +Spaniard. I hope to God their courage may be as good, if ever they meet +with any. + +_Saturday, 20th._ At 10 A.M. there came in the Squirrel man of war, +Cap'n Warren[D] Com'r, from Jamaica, who informed us that Admiral Vernon +had taken all the forts at Carthagena except one, and the town.[E] We +saluted him with 3 guns, having no more loaded. He returned us one, and +we gave three cheers, which were returned by the ship. He further told +the Captain, that, if he would come up to York, he would put him on a +route which would be of service to his voyage. + +[Footnote D: Captain, afterward Sir Peter Warren, was a distinguished +naval officer in his day. In 1745 he was made Rear-Admiral for his +services at the siege of Louisbourg. He married in New York.] + +[Footnote E: The report of the taking of Cartagena was false, and the +colonists were greatly disappointed at the failure of Vernon's great +enterprise.] + +_Tuesday, 23d._ Wrote a letter, by the Captain's order, to get Davison +to go as mate with us. Our Captain went to York to carry it to Capt. +Potter. At 3 P.M. came in a sloop from Jamaica, in a 20 days passage, +from which we learn that Admiral Vernon's fleet was fitting out for +Cuba.[F] I wish them more success than what they got against Carthagena; +for by all report they got more blows than honour. At 4 P.M. the Captain +returned and brought a hand with him, John Watson, Clerk of a Dutch +church. + +[Footnote F: Five hundred additional men were sent from Massachusetts +to take part in this new expedition. It was a total failure, like the +preceding one, and Few of the colonial troops lived to return home.] + +_Wednesday, 24th._ About 10 A.M. the pilot came on board with a message +from Capt Freebody, who was returned from Long Island, to agree with a +Doctor who had offered to go with us. At 1 P.M. came in a sloop from +Jamaica, a prize of Capt Warren, which had formerly been taken by the +Spaniards. She belonged to Providence, and had been retaken by the +Squirrel. At 6 P.M. Mr. Stone & the Doctor came on board to see the +Captain, but, he being at York, they went there to see him. + +_Thursday, 25th._ Nothing remarkable the fore part of the day, but +quarreling not worth mentioning. At 1 P.M. a sloop came in from Jamaica, +and brought for news that they had spoken an English man of war at Port +Marant, by which they had been informed that a fresh war was daily +expected; also that the Bay was entirely cut off by the Spaniards. No +Doctor as yet, for he that the Captain went to agree with was a drunkard +and an extortioner, so we are better without him than with him. + +_Friday, 26th._ The most remarkablest day this great while. All has +been peace & quietness. Three ships came down the Narrows, one bound to +London, another bound to Newfoundland, & the third to Ireland. + +_Saturday, 27th._ This morning, about 10, the Cap't went to York to take +his leave of Cap't Freebody, who was going to Rhode Island. At 2 P.M. +he came on board & brought with him 2 bb's of pork. At 3 came in a +privateer from Bermudas, Capt Love Com'r, who came here for provisions +for himself & his consort, who waited for him there. This day we heard +that the two country sloops were expected in by Wednesday next. Lord +send it, for we only wait for them in hopes of getting a Doctor & some +more hands to make up our complement. + +_Friday, July 3d._ At 5 A.M. we saw three hands who had left us the day +before on board the Humming Bird privateer, who had been enticed by some +of the owners to leave us by making of them drunk. About 10 we saw their +canoe going ashore with our hands in her, also Joseph Ferrow, whom we +had brought from Rhode Island, and since given him clothes, but who +had entered on board that sloop as boatswain. As soon as they had done +watering, and were returning to the ship, we manned our pinnace, and, +having boarded their canoe, took our three hands out of her, and brought +them and Joseph Ferrow aboard. Some time after, the Humming Bird's canoe +coming alongside, Ferrow jumpt into it, and they put off. Our pinnace +being hauled up in the tackles, we immediately let her down, but +unfortunately the plug was out, and the hands which had jumped into her +being raw, she almost filled with water, which caused such confusion +that the canoe got on board before we got off. Our hands then went to +demand Ferrow, but the privateersmen got out their arms and would not +suffer us to board them. At 4 P.M. the Cap' of the little Privateer came +on board of us to know the reason of the disturbance between his people +and ours. Our Captain told him the reason, and forbid him to carry that +fellow away, for, if he did, he might chance to hear of him in the West +Indies, &, if he did, he would go 100 leagues to meet him, and take ten +for one, and break up his voyage, & send him home to his owners, and +give his people a good dressing. (I don't doubt but he'll be as good as +his word.) Opened a bbl of bread. Thunder and lightning with a great +deal of rain. + +_Saturday, 4th._ This morning, about 5 A.M., came in a ship from +Marblehead bound to S'o Carolina. She had lost her main mast, mizzen +mast, & fore topmast. In Latitude 35 she met with a hard gale of wind +which caused the disaster, and obliged her to put in to New York to +refit. About 11 o'clock the Humming Bird weighed anchor for Philadelphia +to get hands. At 4 P.M. the Lieu't and 2 sergeants belonging to Capt +Rigg's Company came on board to look for some soldiers who were supposed +to be on board the Humming Bird, which was lying off Coney Island, but, +the wind and tide proving contrary, they were obliged to return. At 6 +came in a ship from Lisbon, having made the passage in 6 weeks; also a +sloop from Turks Island: both loaded with salt. The ship appearing to be +a lofty vessel, our people were panic struck with fear, taking her for a +70 gun ship, and, as we had several deserters from the men at war, they +desired the Cap't to hoist the Jack and lower our pennant as a signal +for our pinnace, which was then ashore, so that, if she proved to be a +man of war, they might get ashore, and clear of the press. But it proved +quite the contrary; for the ship & sloop's crew, taking us, by the +signal we had made for our pinnace, for a tender of a man of war, laying +there to press hands, quitted their vessels and ran ashore, as soon as +they saw our pinnace manned, and made for the bushes. At night the Cap' +gave the people a pail of punch to recover them of their fright. Thunder +& lightning all this day. + +_Sunday, 5th._ At 5 A.M. shipped a hand. Our mate went ashore to get +water. About 8 he returned, and informed us that the two country sloops +lay at the Hook, and only waited for a pilot to bring them up, which +I hope will prove true. We are all tired of staying here. At 2 P.M. +weighed anchor and got nearer in shore, out of the current. Rainy, +squally, windy weather. Here lie a brig bound to Newfoundland, a ship to +Jamaica, and a sloop which at 6 P.M. weighed anchor, bound to Barbadoes, +loaded with lumber and horses. This day being a month since we left our +commission port, I have set down what quantity of provisions has been +expended, viz., 9-1/2 bb's of beef, 1 bb of pork, 14 bb of Bread. +Remaining, 49-1/2 bb's of beef, 29 bb's of pork, 40 cwt of bread. + +_Monday, 6th._ About 6 A.M. came in the two Country sloops so long +waited for. They were fitted out to take a Spanish privateer that +has been cruising on the coast, and has taken several of our English +vessels. A ship from Newfoundland also came up, and also the Humming +bird privateer, which had been to meet them to get hands. Cap't Langden, +Com'r of one of the above sloops, as he came alongside, gave us three +cheers, which we returned. The Cap't went up to York to get a Doctor and +some hands. One promised to give him an answer the next day. At 10 a +hand came on board to list, but went away without signing. + +_Tuesday, 6th._ This morning the Captain went up to York, and at last +agreed with a Doctor who had been in the employ of Capt Cunningham, +Com'r of one of the Privateer Sloops that came in the day before. His +name is William Blake. He is a young gentleman, and well recommended by +the Gen'l of York. At 6 P.M. the Captain returned on board, and brought +with him a chest of medicines, a Doctor's box which cost 90£ York +currency; also 10 pistols and cutlasses. + +_Tuesday, 14th._ Weighed about 2 P.M., from the Hook with the wind at +W.S.W, with a fresh gale, & by God's leave and under his protection, +bound on our cruise against the proud Dons, the Spaniards. The Captain +ordered the people a pail of punch to drink to a good voyage. Opened a +bb of beef & a tierce of bread. The people were put on allowance for the +time, one pound of beef per man & 7 pounds of bread, per week. + +_Wednesday, 15th._ At 3 P.M. set our shrouds up. There was a great, +swelling sea. About 5 A.M. saw a sail under our bow, about a league +distant. All hands were called upon deck, and got ready to receive her, +should she prove an enemy. We fired one of our bow chasers & brought her +to, and found that she was a sloop from Nantucket, Russell Master. He +said he had met nothing since he had been out, which was 4 days. Our +people returned to their _statu quo_, being all peaceable since they +have got a Quartermaster to control them. + +_Tuesday, 28th._ About 5 A.M. spied a sail under our lee bow, bore +down on her, and when in gunshot fired one of our bow chasers. She +immediately lowered all her sails, & went astern of us. We then ordered +the master to send his boat aboard, which he did, and came himself with +one hand. Upon examination, we found that she was a sloop belonging to +some of the subjects of his Brittanick majesty, & was taken by a +Spanish privateer. The sloop had been taken off of Obricock,[G] near N. +Carolina, and when taken by us was in Latitude 31° 59' N., Longitude 73° +6' W. The master, when he came aboard, brought three Spanish papers, +which he declared to be, the first, a copy of his commission; the +second, Instructions what signal to make when arrived at S't Augustine, +where she was to be condemned; and the third paper was to let him know +what route he was to steer. We sent our Lieu't aboard, who reported that +she was loaded with Pork, Beans, Live Hogs, &c., and a horse, & had on +board 2 Englishmen; the Master, who is a Frenchman born, but turned +Spaniard; 3 Spaniard slaves, & one negro. Upon examination, John +Evergin, one of the owners, declared that he had been taken some time in +April last by Don Pedro Estrado, Cap't of the privateer that had taken +this sloop, & that he forced him to list with them, and to pilot their +vessel on the coast of N. Carolina, and that then they took this sloop +at Obricock, on July 5'th; also 2 more sloops and a ship loaded with +lumber & bound to S'o Carolina; that the Cap't of the privateer put him +on board with the French master, and another Englishman, Saml Elderidge, +to navigate the vessel to Augustine, and that they were making the best +of their way to that place. We sent our Master on board to fetch all +the papers & bring the prisoners as above mentioned. At 11 A.M. sent +Jeremiah Harman & John Webb with four hands to take care of the prize, +the first to be master & the other mate. The Captain gave the master & +mate the following orders, viz.,-- + +[Footnote G: Perhaps a misspelling of Occacoke, an island on the coast +of North Carolina.] + +On Board the Revenge, + +_July 28th, 1741._ + +You, Jeremiah Harman, being appointed Master, & you, John Webb, mate, of +a sloop taken by a Spanish privateer some time ago, belonging to some of +the subjects of his Brittanick Majesty, and retaken by me by virtue of +a commission granted to me by the Hon'ble Ritchard Ward, Esq., Gov'r in +chief over Rhode Island & Providence plantations, &c., in New England, +I order, that you keep company with my sloop, the Revenge, as long as +weather will permit, & if by the Providence of God, by stormy weather, +or some unforeseen accident, we should part, I then order you to proceed +directly to the island of Providence, one of the Bahamia islands, and +there to wait my arrival, and not to embezzle, diminish, waste, sell, or +unload any part of her cargo till I am there present, under the penalty +of the articles already signed by you. Upon your arrival at Providence, +make a just report to his Hon'r the Gov'r of that place of the sloop & +cargo, & what is on board, & how we came by her. I am y'rs, + +B. NORTON. To Jeremiah Harman, Mas'r & John Webb, mate. + +For signal, hoist your Dutch jack at mast head; if we hoist first, you +answer us, & do not keep it up long. + +_Wednesday, 29th._ About 4 P.M. saw a sloop. Gave chase, but, the +weather being calm, was forced to get out our oars. Fired our bow chase +to bring her to; but as the people were in confusion, the ship tacking +about, and the night coming on very foggy, we were unable to speak to +her. By her course she was bound to the North'd. Lost sight of our +prize. The two Englishmen, who were taken prisoners by the Spanish +privateer, signed our articles to-day. + +_Saturday, Aug 1st._ The prize still alongside of us. Ordered the Master +to send us the negro prisoner, having been informed that he was Cap't of +a Comp'y of Indians, mulattoes, and negroes, that was at the retaking of +the Fort at St Augustine, which had formerly been taken while under the +command of that worthiest G--O--pe,[H] who by his treachery suffered +so many brave fellows to be mangled by those barbarians. The negro went +under the name of Signior Capitano Francisco. Sent one of the mulattoes +in his room on board the prize. Gave the people a pail of punch. + +[Footnote H: General Oglethorpe, who was at this time the victim of +unfavorable reports and calumnious stories, that had been spread by +disaffected members of the infant settlements in Georgia, and by some +of the officers who had served under him in his unsuccessful attempt +to reduce the town of Saint Augustine in Florida, "The fort at Saint +Augustine," to which the writer of this Journal refers, as having been +taken while under the command of Oglethorpe, was Fort Moosa, three miles +from Saint Augustine, where a detachment of one hundred and thirty-seven +men, under Colonel Palmer of Carolina, had been attacked by a vastly +superior force of Spaniards, negroes, and Indians, and had been cut +off almost to a man. This misfortune seems to have been due to Colonel +Palmer's disregard of Oglethorpe's orders, and Oglethorpe himself was +in no way responsible for it, although the popular blame fell on his +shoulders.] + +_Sunday, 2nd._ At 1 P.M. we examined the negro, who frankly owned that +he was Cap't of a Comp'y as aforesaid, & that his commission was on +board the privateer; that he was in the privateer in hopes of getting to +the Havanah, & that there he might get a passage to Old Spain to get the +reward of his brave actions. We then askt him if it was his comp'y that +had used the English so barbarously, when taken at the fort. He denied +that it was his compy, but laid that cruel action to the Florida +Indians, and nothing more could we get out of him. We then tied him to a +gun & made the Doctor come with instruments, seemingly to treat him as +they had served the English [prisoners], thinking by that means to get +some confession out of him; but he still denied it. We then tried a +mulatto, one that was taken with him, to find out if he knew anything +about the matter. We gave him a dozen of stripes, but he declared that +he knew nothing more than that he [the negro] had been Cap't of a Comp'y +all that time. The other fellow on board the sloop, he said, knew all +about it. We sent to him, & he declared the whole truth, that it was +the Florida Indians who had committed the acts under his [the negro's] +command, but did not know if he was consenting to it. However, to make +sure, & to make him remember that he bore such a commission, we gave him +200 lashes, & having pickled him, left him to the care of the Doctor. +Opened a tierce of bread and killed the 2 hogs. + +_Monday, 3d._ Small breeze of wind. About 10 saw a schooner standing to +N'ward. Gave her chase. + +_Tuesday, 4th._ A fine breeze of wind. Still in chase of the schooner. +At 5 P.M. gave her a gun, in hopes to bring her to and find out what she +was; but she did not mind it, neither hoisted any colors. Then she bore +down on us, tacked and bore away. We fired 10 shot, but all did not +signify, for she hugged her wind, & it growing dark, and having a good +pair of heels, she was soon lost sight of. We imagined she was an +eastward schooner both by her build & course; but let her be what she +will, she had a brave fellow for a Comr. + +_Wednesday, 5th._ Fine breeze of wind. The man at the mast head about 2 +P.M. spied 5 sail of vessels steering to the westward. Gave them chase +till 1 A.M. About 2 we could see them at a great distance to leeward +of us. Lay to till 4, and then began the chase again, they having got +almost out of sight. + +_Thursday, 6th._ Still in chase of the 5 vessels. Set our spritsail, +topsail & squaresail, with a fair breeze of wind. One of the ships +brought to and fired a gun to wait for a sloop that was in Comp' with +her, & to wait for us. We took in all our small sails, bore down on her, +& hoisted our pennant. When alongside of her she fired 6 shot at us, but +did us no damage. We still hedged upon her, and, having given her our +broadside, stood off. The sloop tacked immediately and bore down on us, +in hopes to get us between them to pepper us, as we supposed. At sight +of this, we gave them three cheers. Our people were all agreed to fight +them, & told the Captain, if he would venture his sloop, they would +venture their lives; but he seemed unwilling, and gave for reason, that +the prize would be of little profit, if taken, and perhaps would +not make good a limb, if it was lost. He also said we had not hands +sufficient to man them, and to bring them into Providence, & to carry +them to the N'ward would be the breaking up of the voyage without +profit. Nevertheless we let the sloop come alongside us, & received her +shot. In return we gave her a broadside & a volley of small arms with +three huzzas, and then bore down on the ship, which all this time had +been pelting us with her shot, but to no purpose. As we passed, we gave +her a broadside which did some damage, for she bore down to the sloop, +and never fired another shot, but careened her over and let some men +down the side to stop her holes, & sent some to repair the rigging and +sails, which were full of shot holes. All the damage we got was one shot +through our main-sail. The ship mounted 6 guns of a side, and the sloop +eight. She was a Spanish privateer, bound on a cruize to the N'ward, & +had taken 5 ships & the sloop which we had retaken some time before. It +grieved us to think that the fellow should go off with those prizes, +which he would not have done, had the Captain been as willing to fight +as we. This battle took place in the Latitude 29° 26', Long. 74° 30' W. +But no blood was shed on our side. + + + + +THE ADVANTAGES OF DEFEAT. + + +When the news flashed over the country, on Monday, the 22d of July, that +our army, whose advance into Virginia had been so long expected, and had +been watched with such intense interest and satisfaction,--that our army +had been defeated, and was flying back in disorder to the intrenchments +around Washington, it was but natural that the strong revulsion of +feeling and the bitter disappointment should have been accompanied by a +sense of dismay, and by alarm as to what was to follow. The panic which +had disgraced some of our troops at the close of the fight found its +parallel in the panic in our own hearts. But as the smoke of the battle +and the dust of the retreat, which overshadowed the land in a cloud of +lies and exaggerations, by degrees cleared away, men regained the even +balance of their minds, and felt a not unworthy shame at their transient +fears. + +It is now plain that our defeat at Bull Run was in no true sense a +disaster; that we not only deserved it, but needed it; that its ultimate +consequences are better than those of a victory would have been. Far +from being disheartened by it, it should give us new confidence in our +cause, in our strength, in our final success. There are lessons which +every great nation must learn which are cheap at any cost, and for some +of those lessons the defeat of the 21st of July was a very small price +to pay. The essential question now is, Whether this schooling has been +sufficient and effectual, or whether we require still further hard +discipline to enforce its instructions upon us. + +In this moment of pause and compelled reflection, it is for us to +examine closely the spirit and motives with which we have engaged in +war, and to determine the true end for which the war must be carried on. +It is no time for indulging in fallacies of the fancy or in feebleness +of counsel. The temper of the Northern people, since the war was forced +upon them, has been in large measure noble and magnanimous. The sudden +interruption of peace, the prospect of a decline of long continued +prosperity, were at once and manfully faced. An eager and emulous zeal +in the defence of the imperilled liberties and institutions of the +nation showed itself all over the land, and in every condition of life. +None who lived through the months of April and May can ever forget the +heroic and ideal sublimity of the time. But as the weeks went on, as +the immediate alarm that had roused the invincible might of the people +passed away, something of the spirit of over-confidence, of excited +hope, of satisfied vanity mingled with and corrupted the earlier and +purer emotion. The war was to be a short one. Our enemies would speedily +yield before the overwhelming force arrayed against them; they would run +from Northern troops; we were sure of easy victory. There was little +sober foreboding, as our army set out from Washington on its great +advance. The troops moved forward with exultation, as if going on a +holiday and festive campaign; and the nation that watched them shared +in their careless confidence, and prophesied a speedy triumph. But the +event showed how far such a spirit was from that befitting a civil +war like this. Never were men engaged in a cause which demanded more +seriousness of purpose, more modesty and humility of pretension. + +The duty before us is honorable in proportion to its difficulty. God has +given us work to do not only for ourselves, but for coming generations +of men. He has imposed on us a task which, if well performed, will +require our most strenuous endeavors and our most patient and +unremitting exertions. We are fairly engaged in a war which cannot be +a short one, even though our enemies should before long lay down their +arms; for it is a war not merely to support and defend the Constitution +and to retake the property of the United States, not merely to settle +the question of the right of a majority to control an insolent and +rebellious minority in the republic, nor to establish the fact of the +national existence and historic unity of the United States; but it is +also and more essentially a war for the establishment of civilization in +that immense portion of our country in which for many years barbarism +has been gaining power. It is for the establishment of liberty and +justice, of freedom of conscience and liberty of thought, of equal law +and of personal rights, throughout the South. If these are not to be +secured without the abolition of slavery, it is a war for the abolition +of slavery. We are not making war to reëstablish an old order of things, +but to set up a new one. We are not giving ourselves and our fortunes +for the purpose of fighting a few battles, and then making peace, +restoring the Southern States to their old place in the Union,--but for +the sake of destroying the root from which this war has sprung, and of +making another such war impossible. It is not worth while to do only +half or a quarter of our work. But if we do it thoroughly, as we ought, +the war must be a long one, and will require from us long sacrifices. It +is well to face up to the fact at once, that this generation is to be +compelled to frugality, and that luxurious expenses upon trifles and +superfluities must be changed for the large and liberal costliness of a +noble cause. We are not to expect or hope for a speedy return of what is +called prosperity; but we are greatly and abundantly prosperous, if we +succeed in extending and establishing the principles which alone can +give dignity and value to national or individual life, and without +which, material abundance, success in trade, and increase of wealth are +evidences rather of the decline than of the progress of a state. We, who +have so long been eager in the pursuit and accumulation of riches, are +now to show more generous energies in the free spending of our means +to gain the invaluable objects for which we have gone to war. There is +nothing disheartening in this prospect. Our people, accustomed as they +have been during late years to the most lavish use of money, and to +general extravagance in expense, have not yet lost the tradition of the +economies and thrift of earlier times, and will not find it difficult +to put them once more into practice. The burden will not fall upon any +class; and when each man, whatever be his station in life, is called +upon to lower his scale of living, no one person will find it too hard +to do what all others are doing. + +But if such be the objects and the prospects of the war, it is plain +that they require more sober thought and more careful forecasting and +more thorough preparation than have thus far been given to them. If we +be the generation chosen to accomplish the work that lies ready to +our hands, if we be commissioned to so glorious and so weighty an +enterprise, there is but one spirit befitting our task. The war, if it +is to be successful, must be a religious war: not in the old sense of +that phrase, not a war of violent excitement and passionate enthusiasm, +not a war in which the crimes of cruel bigots are laid to the charge of +divine impulse, bur a war by itself, waged with dignified and solemn +strength, with clean hands and pure hearts,--a war calm and inevitable +in its processes as the judgments of God. When Cromwell's men went out +to win the victory at Winceby Fight, their watchword was "_Religion_." +Can we in our great struggle for liberty and right adopt any other +watchword than this? Do we require another defeat and more suffering to +bring us to a sense of our responsibility to God for the conduct and the +issue of this war? + +It is only by taking the highest ground, by raising ourselves to the +full conception of what is involved in this contest, that we shall +secure success, and prevent ourselves from sinking to the level of those +who are fighting against us. The demoralization necessarily attendant +upon all wars is to be met and overcome only by simple and manly +religious conviction and effort. It will be one of the advantages +of defeat to have made it evident that a regiment of bullies and +prize-fighters is not the best stuff to compose an army. "Your men are +not vindictive enough," Mr. Russell is reported to have said, as he +watched the battle. It was the saying of a shrewd observer, but it +expresses only an imperfect apprehension of the truth. Vindictiveness is +not the spirit our men should have, but a resoluteness of determination, +as much more to be relied upon than a vindictive passion as it is +founded upon more stable and more enduring qualities of character. +The worst characters of our great cities may be the fit equals of +Mississippi or Arkansas ruffians, but the mass of our army is not to be +brought down to the standard of rowdies or the level of barbarians. The +men of New England and of the West do not march under banners with +the device of "Booty and Beauty," though General Beauregard has the +effrontery to declare it, and Bishop, now General, Polk the ignorance +to utter similar slanders. The atrocities committed on our wounded and +prisoners by the "chivalry" of the South may excite not only horror, but +a wild fury of revenge. But our cause should not be stained with cruelty +and crime, even in the name of vengeance. If the war is simply one in +which brute force is to prevail, if we are fighting only for lust and +pride and domination, then let us have our "Ellsworth Avengers," and +let us slay the wounded of our enemy without mercy; let us burn their +hospitals, let us justify their, as yet, false charges against us; let +us admit the truth of the words of the Bishop of Louisiana, that the +North is prosecuting this war "with circumstances of barbarity which it +was fondly believed would never more disgrace the annals of a civilized +people." But if we, if our brothers in the army, are to lose the proud +distinctions of the North, and to be brought down to the level of +the tender mercies and the humane counsels of slaveholders and +slave-drivers, there would be little use in fighting. If our +institutions at the North do not produce better, more humane, and more +courageous men than those of the South, when taken in the mass, there is +no reason for the sacrifice of blood and treasure in their support. War +must be always cruel; it is not to be waged on principles of tenderness; +but a just, a religious war can be waged only mercifully, with no +excess, with no circumstance of avoidable suffering. Our enemies are our +outward consciences, and their reproaches may warn us of our dangers. + +The soldiers of the Northern army generally are men capable of +understanding the force of moral considerations. They are intelligent, +independent, vigorous,--as good material as an army ever was formed +from. A large proportion of them have gone to the war from the best +motives, and with clear appreciation of the nature and grounds of the +contest. But they require to be confirmed in their principles, and to +be strengthened against the temptations of life in the camp and in the +field, by the voice and support of the communities from which they +have come. If the country is careless or indifferent as to their moral +standard, they will inevitably become so themselves, and lose the +perception of the objects for which they are fighting, forgetting their +responsibilities, not only as soldiers, but as good men. It is one of +the advantages of defeat to force the thoughts which camp-life may have +rendered unfamiliar back into the soldier's mind. The boastfulness of +the advance is gone,--and there is chance for sober reflection. + +It is especially necessary for our men, unaccustomed to the profession +of arms, and entering at once untried upon this great war, to take a +just and high view of their new calling: to look at it with the eyes, +not of mercenaries, but of men called into their country's service; to +regard it as a life which is not less, but more difficult than any other +to be discharged with honor. "Our profession," said Washington, "is the +chastest of all; even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of our +finest achievements." Our soldiers in Virginia, and in the other Slave +States, have not only their own reputation to support, but also that +of the communities from which they come. There must be a rivalry in +generous efforts among the troops of different States. Shall we not now +have our regiments which by their brave and honorable conduct shall win +appellations not less noble than that of the _Auvergne sans tache_, +"Auvergne without a stain"? If the praise that Mr. Lincoln bestowed upon +our men in his late Message to Congress be not undeserved, they are +bound to show qualities such as no other common soldiers have ever +been called to exhibit. There are among them more men of character, +intelligence, and principle than were ever seen before in the ranks. +There should be a higher tone in our service than in that of any other +people; and it would be a reproach to our institutions, if our soldiers +did not show themselves not only steady and brave in action, +undaunted in spirit, unwearied in energy, but patient of discipline, +self-controlled, and forbearing. The disgrace to our arms of the defeat +at Bull Run was not so great as that of the riotous drunkenness and +disorderly conduct of our men during the two or three days that +succeeded at Washington. If our men are to be the worthy soldiers of so +magnificent a cause as that in which they are engaged, they must raise +themselves to its height. Battles may be won by mere human machines, by +men serving for eleven dollars a month; but a victory such as we have to +gain can be won only by men who know for what and why they are +fighting, and who are conscious of the dignity given to them and the +responsibility imposed upon them by the sacredness of their cause. The +old flag, the stars and stripes, must not only be the symbol in their +eyes of past glories and of the country's honor, but its stars must +shine before them with the light of liberty, and its stripes must be the +emblem of the even and enduring lines of equal justice. + +The retreat from Bull Run and the panic that accompanied it were not +due to cowardice among our men. During long hours our troops had fought +well, and showed their gallantry under the most trying circumstances. +They were not afraid to die. It was not strange that raw volunteers, as +many of them were, inefficiently supported, and poorly led, should at +length give way before superior force, and yield to the weakness induced +by exhaustion and hunger. But the lesson of defeat would be imperfectly +learned, did not the army and the nation alike gain from it a juster +sense than they before possessed of the value of individual life. +Never has life been so much prized and so precious as it has become in +America. Never before has each individual been of so much worth. It +costs more to bring up a man here, and he is worth more when brought up, +than elsewhere. The long peace and the extraordinary amount of comfort +which the nation has enjoyed have made us (speaking broadly) fond of +life and tender of it. We of the North have looked with astonishment at +the recklessness of the South concerning it. We have thought it braver +to save than to spend it; and a questionable humanity has undoubtedly +led us sometimes into feeble sentimentalities, and false estimates of +its value. We have been in danger of thinking too much of it, and of +being mean-spirited in its use. But the first sacrifice for which war +calls is life; and we must revise our estimates of its value, if we +would conduct our war to a happy end. To gain that end, no sacrifice can +be too precious or too costly. The shudder with which we heard the first +report that three thousand of our men were slain was but the sign of the +blow that our hearts received. But there must be no shrinking from the +prospect of the death of our soldiers. Better than that we should fail +that a million men should die on the battle-field. It is not often that +men can have the privilege to offer their lives for a principle; and +when the opportunity comes, it is only the coward that does not welcome +it with gladness. Life is of no value in comparison with the spiritual +principles from which it gains its worth. No matter how many lives it +costs to defend or secure truth or justice or liberty, truth and justice +and liberty must be defended and secured. Self-preservation must yield +to Truth's preservation. The little human life is for to-day,--the +principle is eternal. To die for truth, to die open-eyed and resolutely +for the "good old cause," is not only honor, but reward. "Suffering is +a gift not given to every one," said one of the Scotch martyrs in 1684, +"and I desire to bless the Lord with my whole heart and soul that He has +counted such a poor thing as I am worthy of the gift of suffering." + +The little value of the individual in comparison with the principles +upon which the progress and happiness of the race depend is a lesson +enforced by the analogies of Nature, as well as by the evidence of +history and the assurance of faith. Nature is careless of the single +life. Her processes seem wasteful, but out of seeming waste she produces +her great and durable results. Everywhere in her works are the signs of +life cut short for the sake of some effect more permanent than itself. +And for the establishing of those immortal foundations upon which the +human race is to stand firm in virtue and in hope, for the building of +the walls of truth, there will be no scanty expenditure of individual +life. Men are nothing in the count,--man is everything. + +The spirit of the nation will be shown in its readiness to meet without +shrinking such sacrifice of life as may be demanded in gaining our end. +We must all suffer and rejoice together,--but let there be no unmanly or +unwomanly fear of bloodshed. The deaths of our men from sickness, from +camp epidemics, are what we should fear and prevent; death on the +battle-field we have no right to dread. The men who die in this cause +die well; they could wish for no more honorable end of life. + +The honor lost in our recent defeat cannot be regained,--but it is +indeed one of the advantages of defeat to teach men the preciousness of +honor, the necessity of winning and keeping it at any cost. Honor and +duty are but two names for the same thing in war. But the novelty of war +is so great to us, we are so unpractised in it, and we have thought so +little of it heretofore as concerning ourselves, that there is danger +lest we fail at first to appreciate its finer elements, and neglect the +opportunities it affords for the practice of virtues rarely called out +in civil life. The common boast of the South, that there alone was to be +found the chivalry of America, and that among the Southern people was +a higher strain of courage and a keener sense of honor than among the +people of the North, is now to be brought to the test. There is not +need to repeat the commonplaces about bravery and honor. But we and our +soldiers should remember that it is not the mere performance of set work +that is required of them, but the valiant and generous alacrity of noble +minds in deeds of daring and of courtesy. Though the science of war +has in modern times changed the relations and the duties of men on the +battle-field from what they were in the old days of knighthood, yet +there is still room for the display of stainless valor and of manful +virtue. Honor and courage are part of our religion; and the coward or +the man careless of honor in our army of liberty should fall under +heavier shame than ever rested on the disgraced soldier in former times. +The sense of honor is finer than the common sense of the world. It +counts no cost and reckons no sacrifice great. "Then the king wept, and +dried his eyes, and said, 'Your courage had neere hand destroyed you, +for I call it folly knights to abide when they be overmatched.' +'Nay,' said Sir Lancelot and the other, 'for once shamed may never be +recovered.'" The examples of Bayard,--_sans peur et sans reproche_,--of +Sidney, of the heroes of old or recent days, are for our imitation. We +are bound to be no less worthy of praise and remembrance than they. They +did nothing too high for us to imitate. And in their glorious company +we may hope that some of our names may yet be enrolled, to stand as +the inspiring exemplars and the models for coming times. If defeat has +brought us shame, it has brought us also firmer resolve. No man can be +said to know himself, or to have assurance of his force of principle and +character, till he has been tested by the fires of trial in the crucible +of defeat. The same is true of a nation. The test of defeat is the test +of its national worth. Defeat shows whether it deserves success. We may +well be grateful and glad for our defeat of the 21st of July, if we +wrest from it the secrets of our weakness, and are thrown back by it to +the true sources of strength. If it has done its work thoroughly, if we +profit sufficiently by the advantages it has afforded us, we may be well +content that so slight a harm has brought us so great a good. But if +not, then let us be ready for another and another defeat, till our souls +shall be tempered and our forces disciplined for the worthy attainment +of victory. For victory we shall in good time have. There is no need to +fear or be doubtful of the issue. As soon as we deserve it, victory will +be ours; and were we to win it before, it would be but an empty +and barren triumph. All history is but the prophecy of our final +success,--and Milton has put the prophecy into words: "Go on, O Nation, +never to be disunited! Be the praise and the heroic song of all +posterity! Merit this, but seek only virtue, not to extend your limits, +(for what needs to win a fading triumphant laurel out of the tears of +wretched men?) but to settle the pure worship of God in his church, and +justice in the state. Then shall the hardest difficulties smooth out +themselves before thee; envy shall sink to hell, craft and malice be +confounded, whether it be home-bred mischief or outlandish cunning; yea, +other nations will then covet to serve thee, for lordship and victory +are but the pages of justice and virtue. Use thine invincible might to +do worthy and godlike deeds, and then he that seeks to break your union +a cleaving curse be his inheritance to all generations!" + + * * * * * + + +ODE TO HAPPINESS. + + + I. + + + Spirit, that rarely comest now, + And only to contrast my gloom, + Like rainbow-feathered birds that bloom + A moment on some autumn bough + Which, with the spurn of their farewell, + Sheds its last leaves,--thou once didst dwell + With me year-long, and make intense + To boyhood's wisely-vacant days + That fleet, but all-sufficing grace + Of trustful inexperience, + While yet the soul transfigured sense, + And thrilled, as with love's first caress, + At life's mere unexpectedness. + + + II. + + + Those were thy days, blithe spirit, those + When a June sunshine could fill up + The chalice of a buttercup + With such Falernian juice as flows + No longer,--for the vine is dead + Whence that inspiring drop was shed: + Days when my blood would leap and run, + As full of morning as a breeze, + Or spray tossed up by summer seas + That doubts if it be sea or sun; + Days that flew swiftly, like the band + That in the Grecian games had strife + And passed from eager hand to hand + The onward-dancing torch of life. + + + III. + + + Wing-footed! thou abid'st with him + Who asks it not; but he who hath + Watched o'er the waves thy fading path + Shall nevermore on ocean's rim, + At morn or eve, behold returning + Thy high-heaped canvas shoreward yearning! + Thou first reveal'st to us thy face + Turned o'er the shoulder's parting grace, + A moment glimpsed, then seen no more,-- + Thou whose swift footsteps we can trace + Away from every mortal door! + + + IV. + + + Nymph of the unreturning feet, + How may I woo thee back? But no, + I do thee wrong to call thee so; + 'Tis we are changed, not thou art fleet: + The man thy presence feels again + Not in the blood, but in the brain, + Spirit, that lov'st the upper air, + Serene and vaporless and rare, + Such as on mountain-heights we find + And wide-viewed uplands of the mind, + Or such as scorns to coil and sing + Round any but the eagle's wing + Of souls that with long upward beat + Have won an undisturbed retreat, + Where, poised like wingèd victories, + They mirror in unflinching eyes + The life broad-basking 'neath their feet,-- + Man always with his Now at strife, + Pained with first gasps of earthly air, + Then begging Death the last to spare, + Still fearful of the ampler life. + + + V. + + + Not unto them dost thou consent + Who, passionless, can lead at ease + A life of unalloyed content, + A life like that of landlocked seas, + That feel no elemental gush + Of tidal forces, no fierce rush + Of storm deep-grasping, scarcely spent + 'Twixt continent and continent: + Such quiet souls have never known + Thy truer inspiration, thou + Who lov'st to feel upon thy brow + Spray from the plunging vessel thrown, + Grazing the tusked lee shore, the cliff + That o'er the abrupt gorge holds its breath, + Where the frail hair's-breadth of an If + Is all that sunders life and death: + These, too, are cared for, and round these + Bends her mild crook thy sister Peace; + These in unvexed dependence lie + Each 'neath his space of household sky; + O'er them clouds wander, or the blue + Hangs motionless the whole day through; + Stars rise for them, and moons grow large + And lessen in such tranquil wise + As joys and sorrows do that rise + Within their nature's sheltered marge; + Their hours into each other flit, + Like the leaf-shadows of the vine + And fig-tree under which they sit; + And their still lives to heaven incline + With an unconscious habitude, + Unhistoried as smokes that rise + From happy hearths and sight elude + In kindred blue of morning skies. + + + VI. + + + Wayward! when once we feel thy lack, + 'Tis worse than vain to tempt thee back! + Yet there is one who seems to be + Thine elder sister, in whose eyes + A faint, far northern light will rise + Sometimes and bring a dream of thee: + She is not that for which youth hoped; + But she hath blessings all her own, + Thoughts pure as lilies newly oped, + And faith to sorrow given alone: + Almost I deem that it is thou + Come back with graver matron brow, + With deepened eyes and bated breath, + Like one who somewhere had met Death. + "But no," she answers, "I am she + Whom the gods love, Tranquillity; + That other whom you seek forlorn. + Half-earthly was; but I am born + Of the immortals, and our race + Have still some sadness in our face: + He wins me late, but keeps me long, + Who, dowered with every gift of passion, + In that fierce flame can forge and fashion + Of sin and self the anchor strong; + Can thence compel the driving force + Of daily life's mechanic course, + Nor less the nobler energies + Of needful toil and culture wise: + Whose soul is worth the tempter's lure, + Who can renounce and yet endure, + To him I come, not lightly wooed, + And won by silent fortitude." + + * * * * * + + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + +_Florence_, July 5th, 1861. + + "When some belovèd voice that was to you + Both sound and sweetness faileth suddenly, + And silence, against which you dare not cry, + Aches round you like a strong disease and new,-- + What hope? what help? what music will undo + That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh,-- + Not reason's subtle count,--not melody + Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew,-- + Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales, + Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress-trees + To the clear moon,--nor yet the spheric laws + Self-chanted,--nor the angels' sweet All-hails, + Met in the smile of God. Nay, none of these! + Speak THOU, availing Christ, and fill this pause!" + +Thus sang the Muse of a great woman years ago; and now, alas! she, who, +with constant suffering of her own, was called upon to grieve often for +the loss of near and dear ones, has suddenly gone from among us, "and +silence, against which we dare not cry, aches round us like a strong +disease and new." Her own beautiful words are our words, the world's +words,--and though the tears fall faster and thicker, as we search +for all that is left of her in the noble poems which she bequeaths to +humanity, there follows the sad consolation in feeling assured that she +above all others _felt_ the full value of life, the full value of death, +and was prepared to meet her God humbly, yet joyfully, whenever He +should claim her for His own. Her life was one long, large-souled, +large-hearted prayer for the triumph of Right, Justice, Liberty; and she +who lived for others was + + "poet true, + Who died for Beauty, as martyrs do + For Truth,--the ends being scarcely two." + +Beauty _was_ truth with her, the wife, mother, and poet, three in one, +and such an earthly trinity as God had never before blessed the world +with. + +This day week, at half-past four o'clock in the morning, Mrs. Browning +died. A great invalid from girlhood, owing to an unfortunate accident, +Mrs. Browning's life was a prolonged combat with disease thereby +engendered; and had not God given her extraordinary vitality of spirit, +the frail body could never have borne up against the suffering to which +it was doomed. Probably there never was a greater instance of the power +of genius over the weakness of the flesh. Confined to her room in +the country or city home of her father in England, Elizabeth Barrett +developed into the great artist and scholar. + +From her couch went forth those poems which have crowned her as "the +world's greatest poetess"; and on that couch, where she lay almost +speechless at times, and seeing none but those friends dearest and +nearest, the soul-woman struck deep into the roots of Latin and Greek, +and drank of their vital juices. We hold in kindly affection her +learned and blind teacher, Hugh Stuart Boyd, who, she tells us, was +"enthusiastic for the good and the beautiful, and one of the most simple +and upright of human beings." The love of his grateful scholar, when +called upon to mourn the good man's death, embalms his memory among her +Sonnets, where she addresses him as her + + "Beloved friend, who, living many years + With sightless eyes raised vainly to the sun, + Didst learn to keep thy patient soul in tune + To visible Nature's elemental cheers!" + +Nor did this "steadfast friend" forget his poet-pupil ere he went to +"join the dead":-- + + "Three gifts the Dying left me,--Aeschylus, + And Gregory Nazianzen, and a clock + Chiming the gradual hours out like a flock + Of stars, whose motion is melodious." + +We catch a glimpse of those communings over "our Sophocles the royal," +"our Aeschylus the thunderous," "our Euripides the human," and "my Plato +the divine one," in her pretty poem of "Wine of Cyprus," addressed to +Mr. Boyd. The woman translates the remembrance of those early lessons +into her heart's verse:-- + + "And I think of those long mornings + Which my thought goes far to seek, + When, betwixt the folio's turnings, + Solemn flowed the rhythmic Greek. + Past the pane, the mountain spreading, + Swept the sheep-bell's tinkling noise, + While a girlish voice was reading,-- + Somewhat low for [Greek: ais] and [Greek: ois]." + +These "golden hours" were not without that earnest argument so welcome +to candid minds:-- + + "For we sometimes gently wrangled, + Very gently, be it said,-- + Since our thoughts were disentangled + By no breaking of the thread! + And I charged you with extortions + On the nobler fames of old,-- + Ay, and sometimes thought your Persons + Stained the purple they would fold." + +What high honor the scholar did her friend and teacher, and how nobly +she could interpret the "rhythmic Greek," let those decide who have read +Mrs. Browning's translations of "Prometheus Bound" and Bion's "Lament +for Adonis." + +Imprisoned within the four walls of her room, with books for her world +and large humanity for her thought, the lamp of life burning so low at +times that a feather would be placed on her lips to prove that there was +still breath, Elizabeth Barrett read and wrote, and "heard the nations +praising" her "far off." She loved + + "Art for art, + And good for God himself, the essential Good," + +until destiny (a destiny with God in it) brought two poets face to face +and heart to heart. Mind had met mind and recognized its peer previously +to that personal interview which made them one in soul; but it was not +until after an acquaintance of two years that Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning were united in marriage for time and for eternity, a +marriage the like of which can seldom be recorded. What wealth of love +she could give is evidenced in those exquisite sonnets purporting to be +from the Portuguese, the author being too modest to christen them by +their right name, Sonnets from the Heart. None have failed to read the +truth through this slight veil, and to see the woman more than the poet +in such lines as these:-- + + "I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange + My near sweet view of heaven for earth with thee!" + +We have only to turn to the concluding poem in "Men and Women," +inscribed to E.B.B., to see how reciprocal was this great love. + +From their wedding-day Mrs. Browning seemed to be endowed with new life. +Her health visibly improved, and she was enabled to make excursions in +England prior to her departure for the land of her adoption, Italy, +where she found a second and a dearer home. For nearly fifteen years +Florence and the Brownings have been one in the thoughts of many English +and Americans; and Casa Guidi, which has been immortalized by Mrs. +Browning's genius, will be as dear to the Anglo-Saxon traveller as +Milton's Florentine residence has been heretofore. Those who now pass by +Casa Guidi fancy an additional gloom has settled upon the dark face of +the old palace, and grieve to think that those windows from which +a spirit-face witnessed two Italian revolutions, and those large +mysterious rooms where a spirit-hand translated the great Italian Cause +into burning verse, and pleaded the rights of humanity in "Aurora +Leigh," are hereafter to be the passing homes of the thoughtless or the +unsympathizing. + +Those who have known Casa Guidi as it was could hardly enter the loved +rooms now and speak above a whisper. They who have been so favored +can never forget the square anteroom, with its great picture and +piano-forte, at which the boy Browning passed many an hour,--the +little dining-room covered with tapestry, and where hung medallions +of Tennyson, Carlyle, and Robert Browning,--the long room filled with +plaster casts and studies, which was Mr. Browning's retreat,--and, +dearest of all, the large drawing-room, where she always sat. It opens +upon a balcony filled with plants, and looks out upon the old iron-gray +church of Santa Felice. There was something about this room that seemed +to make it a proper and especial haunt for poets. The dark shadows +and subdued light gave it a dreamy look, which was enhanced by the +tapestry-covered walls and the old pictures of saints that looked +out sadly from their carved frames of black wood. Large book-cases, +constructed of specimens of Florentine carving selected by Mr. Browning, +were brimming over with wise-looking books. Tables were covered with +more gayly bound volumes, the gifts of brother authors. Dante's +grave profile, a cast of Keats's face and brow taken after death, a +pen-and-ink sketch of Tennyson, the genial face of John Kenyon, Mrs. +Browning's good friend and relative, little paintings of the boy +Browning, all attracted the eye in turn, and gave rise to a thousand +musings. A quaint mirror, easy-chairs and sofas, and a hundred nothings +that always add an indescribable charm, were all massed in this room. +But the glory of all, and that which sanctified all, was seated in a low +arm-chair near the door. A small table, strewn with writing-materials, +books, and newspapers, was always by her side. + +To those who loved Mrs. Browning (and to know her was to love her) she +was singularly attractive. Hers was not the beauty of feature; it was +the loftier beauty of expression. Her slight figure seemed hardly large +enough to contain the great heart that beat so fervently within, and the +soul that expanded more and more as one year gave place to another. It +was difficult to believe that such a fairy hand could pen thoughts of +such ponderous weight, or that such a "still small voice" could utter +them with equal force. But it was Mrs. Browning's face upon which one +loved to gaze,--that face and head which almost lost themselves in the +thick curls of her dark brown hair. That jealous hair could not hide the +broad, fair forehead, "royal with the truth," as smooth as any girl's, +and + + "Too large for wreath of modern wont." + +Her large brown eyes were beautiful, and were in truth the windows +of her soul. They combined the confidingness of a child with the +poet-passion of heart and of intellect; and in gazing into them it was +easy to read _why_ Mrs. Browning wrote. God's inspiration was her motive +power, and in her eyes was the reflection of this higher light. + + "And her smile it seemed half holy, + As if drawn from thoughts more far + Than our common jestings are." + +Mrs. Browning's character was wellnigh perfect. Patient in long +suffering, she never spoke of herself, except when the subject was +forced upon her by others, and then with no complaint. She _judged not_, +saving when great principles were imperilled, and then was ready to +sacrifice herself upon the altar of Right. Forgiving as she wished to be +forgiven, none approached her with misgivings, knowing her magnanimity. +She was ever ready to accord sympathy to all, taking an earnest interest +in the most insignificant, and so humble in her greatness that her +friends looked upon her as a divinity among women. Thoughtful in the +smallest things for others, she seemed to give little thought to +herself; and believing in universal goodness, her nature was free from +worldly suspicions. The first to see merit, she was the last to censure +faults, and gave the praise that she _felt_ with a generous hand. No one +so heartily rejoiced at the success of others, no one was so modest in +her own triumphs, which she looked upon more as a favor of which she +was unworthy than as a right due to her. She loved all who offered +her affection, and would solace and advise with any. She watched the +progress of the world with tireless eye and beating heart, and, anxious +for the good of the _whole_ world, scorned to take an insular view +of any political question. With her a political question was a moral +question as well. Mrs. Browning belonged to no particular country; the +world was inscribed upon the banner under which she fought. Wrong was +her enemy; against this she wrestled, in whatever part of the globe it +was to be found. + +A noble devotion to and faith in the regeneration of Italy was a +prominent feature in Mrs. Browning's life. To her, Italy was from the +first a living fire, not the bed of dead ashes at which the world was +wont to sneer. Her trust in God and the People was supreme; and when +the Revolution of 1848 kindled the passion of liberty from the Alps to +Sicily, she, in common with many another earnest spirit, believed +that the hour for the fulfilment of her hopes had arrived. Her joyful +enthusiasm at the Tuscan uprising found vent in the "Eureka" which she +sang with so much fervor in Part First of "Casa Guidi Windows." + + "But never say 'No more' + To Italy's life! Her memories undismayed + Still argue 'Evermore'; her graves implore + Her future to be strong and not afraid; + Her very statues send their looks before." + +And even she was ready to believe that a Pope _might_ be a reformer. + + "Feet, knees, and sinews, energies divine, + Were never yet too much for men who ran + In such hard ways as must be this of thine, + Deliverer whom we seek, whoe'er thou art, + Pope, prince, or peasant! If, indeed, the first, + The noblest therefore! since the heroic heart + Within thee must be great enough to burst + Those trammels buckling to the baser part + Thy saintly peers in Rome, who crossed and cursed + With the same finger." + +The Second Part of "Casa Guidi Windows" is a sad sequel to the First, +but Mrs. Browning does not deride. She bows before the inevitable, but +is firm in her belief of a future living Italy. + + "In the name of Italy + Meantime her patriot dead have benison; + They only have done well;--and what they did + Being perfect, it shall triumph. Let them slumber!" + +Her short-lived credence in the good faith of Popes was buried with much +bitterness of heart:-- + + "And peradventure other eyes may see, + From Casa Guidi windows, what is done + Or undone. Whatsoever deeds they be, + Pope Pius will be glorified in none." + +It is a matter of great thankfulness that God permitted Mrs. Browning to +witness the second Italian revolution before claiming her for heaven. No +patriot Italian, of whatever high degree, gave greater sympathy to the +aspirations of 1859 than Mrs. Browning, an echo of which the world has +read in her "Poems before Congress" and still later contributions to the +New York "Independent." Great was the moral courage of this frail woman +to publish the "Poems before Congress" at a time when England was most +suspicious of Napoleon. Greater were her convictions, when she abased +England and exalted France for the cold neutrality of the one and the +generous aid of the other in this war of Italian independence. Bravely +did she bear up against the angry criticism excited by such anti-English +sentiment. Strong in her right, Mrs. Browning was willing to brave the +storm, confident that truth would prevail in the end. Apart from certain +_tours de force_ in rhythm, there is much that is grand and as much that +is beautiful in these Poems, while there is the stamp of _power_ upon +every page. It is felt that a great soul is in earnest about vital +principles, and earnestness of itself is a giant as rare as forcible. +Though there are few now who look upon Napoleon as + + "Larger so much by the heart" + +than others "who have governed and led," there are many who acknowledge +him to be + + "Larger so much by the head," + +and regard him as she did,--Italy's best friend in the hour of need. Her +disciples are increasing, and soon "Napoleon III. in Italy" will be read +with the admiration which it deserves. + +Beautiful in its pathos is the poem of "A Court Lady," and there are few +satires more biting than "An August Voice," which, as an interpretation +of the Napoleonic words, is perfect. Nor did she fail to vindicate the +Peace of Villafranca:-- + + "But He stood sad before the sun + (The peoples felt their fate): + 'The world is many,--I am one; + My great Deed was too great. + God's fruit of justice ripens slow: + Men's souls are narrow; let them grow. + My brothers, we must wait.'" + +And truly, what Napoleon then failed, from opposition, to accomplish by +the sword, has since been, to a great extent, accomplished by diplomacy. + +But though Mrs. Browning wrote her "Tale of Villafranca" in full faith, +after many a mile-stone in time lay between her and the _fact_, her +friends remember how the woman bent and was wellnigh crushed, as by a +thunderbolt, when the intelligence of this Imperial Treaty was first +received. Coming so quickly upon the heels of the victories of Solferino +and San Martino, it is no marvel that what stunned Italy should have +almost killed Mrs. Browning. That it hastened her into the grave is +beyond a doubt, as she never fully shook off the severe attack of +illness occasioned by this check upon her life-hopes. The summer of 1859 +was a weary, suffering season for her in consequence; and although the +following winter, passed in Rome, helped to repair the evil that had +been wrought, a heavy cold, caught at the end of the season, (and +for the sake of seeing Rome's gift of swords to Napoleon and Victor +Emmanuel,) told upon her lungs. The autumn of 1860 brought with it +another sorrow in the death of a beloved sister, and this loss seemed +more than Mrs. Browning could bear; but by breathing the soft air of +Rome again she seemed to revive, and indeed wrote that she was "better +in body and soul." + +Those who have known Mrs. Browning in later years thought she never +looked better than upon her return to Florence in the first days of last +June, although the overland journey had been unusually fatiguing to her. +But the meeting was a sad one; for Cavour had died, and the national +loss was as severe to her as a personal bereavement. Her deep nature +regarded Italy's benefactor in the light of a friend; for had he not +labored unceasingly for that which was the burden of her song? and could +she allow so great a man to pass away without many a heart-ache? It is +as sublime as it is rare to see such intense appreciation of great deeds +as Mrs. Browning could give. Her fears, too, for Italy, when the patriot +pilot was hurried from the helm, gave rise to much anxiety, until +quieted by the assuring words of the new minister, Ricasoli. + +Nor was Mrs. Browning so much engrossed in the Italian regeneration that +she had no thought for other nations and for other wrongs. Her interest +in America was very great,-- + + "For poets, (bear the word!) + Half-poets even, are still whole democrats: + Oh, not that we're disloyal to the high, + But loyal to the low, and cognizant + Of the less scrutable majesties." + +In Mrs. Browning's poem of "A Curse for a Nation," where she foretold +the agony in store for America, and which has fallen upon us with the +swiftness of lightning, she was loath to raise her poet's voice against +us, pleading,-- + + "For I am hound by gratitude, + By love and blood, + To brothers of mine across the sea, + Who stretch out kindly hands to me." + +And in one of her last letters, addressed to an American friend who +had reminded her of her prophecy and of its present fulfilment, she +replied,--"Never say that I have 'cursed' your country. I only _declared +the consequence of the evil_ in her, and which has since developed +itself in thunder and flame. I feel with more pain than many Americans +do the sorrow of this transition-time; but I do know that it _is_ +transition, that it _is_ crisis, and that you will come out of the fire +purified, stainless, having had the angel of a great cause walking with +you in the furnace." Are not such burning, hopeful words from such a +source--worthy of the grateful memory of the Americans? Our cause has +lost an ardent supporter in Mrs. Browning; and did we dare rebel against +God's will, we should grieve deeply that she was not permitted to +glorify the Right in America as she has glorified it in Italy. Among +the last things that she read were Motley's letters on the "American +Crisis," and the writer will ever hold in dear memory the all but +final conversation had with Mrs. Browning, in which these letters were +discussed and warmly approved. In referring to the attitude taken by +foreign nations with regard to America, she said,--"Why do you heed what +others say? You are strong, and can do without sympathy; and when you +have triumphed, your glory will be the greater." Mrs. Browning's most +enthusiastic admirers are Americans; and I am sure, that, now she is no +longer of earth, they will love her the more for her sympathy in the +cause which is nearest to all hearts. + +Mrs. Browning's conversation was most interesting. It was not +characterized by sallies of wit or brilliant repartee, nor was it +of that nature which is most welcome in society. It was frequently +intermingled with trenchant, quaint remarks, leavened with a quiet, +graceful humor of her own; but it was eminently calculated for a +_tête-à -tête_. Mrs. Browning never made an insignificant remark. All +that she said was _always_ worth hearing;--a greater compliment could +not be paid her. She was a most conscientious listener, giving you her +mind and heart, as well as her magnetic eyes. Though the latter spoke an +eager language of their own, she conversed slowly, with a conciseness +and point that, added to a matchless earnestness, which was the +predominant trait of her conversation as it was of her character, made +her a most delightful companion. _Persons_ were never her theme, +unless public characters were under discussion, or friends were to be +praised,--which kind office she frequently took upon herself. One never +dreamed of frivolities in Mrs. Browning's presence, and gossip felt +itself out of place. _Your_self (not _her_self) was always a pleasant +subject to her, calling out all her best sympathies in joy, and yet more +in sorrow. Books and humanity, great deeds, and, above all, politics, +which include all the grand questions of the day, were foremost in her +thoughts, and therefore oftenest on her lips. I speak not of religion, +for with her everything was religion. Her Christianity was not confined +to church and rubric: it meant _civilization_. + +Association with the Brownings, even though of the slightest nature, +made one better in mind and soul. It was impossible to escape the +influence of the magnetic fluid of love and poetry that was constantly +passing between husband and wife. The unaffected devotion of one to the +other wove an additional charm around the two, and the very contrasts +in their natures made the union a more beautiful one. All remember Mrs. +Browning's pretty poem on her "Pet Name":-- + + "I have a name, a little name, + Uncadenced for the ear, + Unhonored by ancestral claim, + Unsanctified by prayer and psalm + The solemn font anear. + + * * * * * + + "My brother gave that name to me, + When we were children twain,-- + When names acquired baptismally + Were hard to utter, as to see + That life had any pain." + +It was this pet name of two small letters lovingly combined that dotted +Mr. Browning's spoken thoughts, as moonbeams fleck the ocean, and seemed +the pearl-bead that linked conversation together in one harmonious +whole. But what was written has now come to pass. The pet name is +engraved only in the hearts of a few. + + "Though I write books, it will be read + Upon the leaves of none; + And afterward, when I am dead, + Will ne'er be graved, for sight or tread, + Across my funeral stone." + +Mrs. Browning's letters are masterpieces of their kind. Easy and +conversational, they touch upon no subject without leaving an indelible +impression of the writer's originality; and the myriad matters of +universal interest with which many of them are teeming will render them +a precious legacy to the world, when the time shall have arrived for +their publication. Of late, Italy has claimed the lion's share in these +unrhymed sketches of Mrs. Browning in the _négligée_ of home. Prose has +recorded all that poetry threw aside; and thus much political thought, +many an anecdote, many a reflection, and much womanly enthusiasm have +been stored up for the benefit of more than the persons to whom these +letters were addressed. And while we wait patiently for this great +pleasure, which must sooner or later be enjoyed and appreciated, we may +gather a foretaste of Mrs. Browning's power in prose-writing from her +early essays, and from the admirable preface to the "Poems before +Congress." The latter is simple in its style, and grand in teachings +that find few followers among _nations_ in these _enlightened_ days. + +Some are prone to moralize over precious stones, and see in them the +petrified souls of men and women. There is no stone so sympathetic as +the opal, which one might fancy to be a concentration of Mrs. Browning's +genius. It is essentially the _woman-stone_, giving out a sympathetic +warmth, varying its colors from day to day, as though an index of the +heart's barometer. There is the topmost purity of white, blended with +the delicate, perpetual verdure of hope, and down in the opal's centre +lies the deep crimson of love. The red, the white, and the green, +forming as they do the colors of Italy, render the opal doubly like Mrs. +Browning. It is right that the woman-stone should inclose the symbols of +the "Woman Country." + +Feeling all these things of Mrs. Browning, it becomes the more painful +to place on record an account of those last days that have brought with +them so universal a sorrow. Mrs. Browning's illness was only of a week's +duration. Having caught a severe cold of a more threatening nature than +usual, medical skill was summoned; but, although anxiety in her behalf +was necessarily felt, there was no whisper of great danger until the +third or fourth night, when those who most loved her said they had never +seen her so ill; on the following morning, however, she was better, and +from that moment was thought to be improving in health. She herself +believed this; and all had such confidence in her wondrous vitality, and +the hope was so strong that God would spare her for still greater good, +that a dark veil was drawn over what might be. It is often the case, +where we are accustomed to associate constant suffering with dear +friends, that we calmly look danger in the face without misgivings. So +little did Mrs. Browning realize her critical condition, that, until the +last day, she did not consider herself sufficiently indisposed to remain +in bed, and then the precaution was accidental. So much encouraged +did she feel with regard to herself, that, on this final evening, an +intimate female friend was admitted to her bedside and found her in good +spirits, ready at pleasantry and willing to converse on all the old +loved subjects. Her ruling passion had prompted her to glance at the +"Athenaeum" and "Nazione"; and when this friend repeated the opinions +she had heard expressed by an acquaintance of the new Italian Premier, +Ricasoli, to the effect that his policy and Cavour's were identical, +Mrs. Browning "smiled like Italy," and thankfully replied,--"I am glad +of it; I thought so." Even then her thoughts were not of self. This near +friend went away with no suspicion of what was soon to be a terrible +reality. Mrs. Browning's own bright boy bade his mother goodnight, +cheered by her oft-repeated, "I am better, dear, much better." Inquiring +friends were made happy by these assurances. + +One only watched her breathing through the night,--he who for fifteen +years had ministered to her with all the tenderness of a woman. It was a +night devoid of suffering _to her_. As morning approached, and for +two hours previous to the dread moment, she seemed to be in a partial +ecstasy; and though not apparently conscious of the coming on of death, +she gave her husband all those holy words of love, all the consolation +of an oft-repeated blessing, whose value death has made priceless. +Such moments are too sacred for the common pen, which pauses as the +woman-poet raises herself up to die in the arms of her poet-husband. He +knew not that death had robbed him of his treasure, until the drooping +form grew chill and froze his heart's blood. + +At half-past four, on the morning of the 29th of June, Elizabeth Barrett +Browning died of congestion of the lungs. Her last words were, "_It is +beautiful!_" God was merciful to the end, sparing her and hers the agony +of a frenzied parting, giving proof to those who were left of the glory +and happiness in store for her, by those few words, "_It is beautiful!_" +The spirit could see its future mission even before shaking off the dust +of the earth. + +Gazing on her peaceful face with its eyes closed on us forever, our cry +was _her_ "Cry of the Human." + + "We tremble by the harmless bed + Of one loved and departed; + Our tears drop on the lips that said + Last night, 'Be stronger-hearted!' + O God! to clasp those fingers close, + And yet to feel so lonely! + To see a light upon such brows, + Which is the daylight only! + Be pitiful, O God!" + +On the evening of July 1st, the lovely English burying-ground without +the walls of Florence opened its gates to receive one more occupant. A +band of English, Americans, and Italians, sorrowing men and women, +whose faces as well as dress were in mourning, gathered around the bier +containing all that was mortal of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Who of +those present will forget the solemn scene, made doubly impressive by +the grief of the husband and son? "The sting of death is sin," said the +clergyman. Sinless in life, _her_ death, then, was without sting; and +turning our thoughts inwardly, we murmured _her_ prayers for the dead, +and wished that they might have been her burial-service. We heard her +poet-voice saying,-- + + "And friends, dear friends, when it shall be + That this low breath is gone from me, + And round my bier ye come to weep, + Let one most loving of you all + Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall,-- + He giveth His beloved sleep.'" + +But the tears would fall, as they bore her up the hill, and lowered "His +beloved" into her resting-place, the grave. The sun itself was sinking +to rest behind the western hills, and sent a farewell smile of love +into the east, that it might glance on the lowering bier. The distant +mountains hid their faces in a misty veil, and the tall cypress-trees +of the cemetery swayed and sighed as Nature's special mourners for her +favored child; and there they are to stand keeping watch over her. + + "Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little + birds sang west, + _Toll slowly!_ + And I said in under-breath, All our life is + mixed with death, + And who knoweth which is best? + + * * * * * + + "Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little + birds sang west, + _Toll slowly!_ + And I 'paused' to think God's greatness + flowed around our incompleteness,-- + Round our restlessness, His rest." + +Dust to dust,--and the earth fell with a dull echo on the coffin. We +gathered round to take one look, and saw a double grave, too large for +her;--may it wait long and patiently for _him!_ + +And now a mound of earth marks the spot where sleeps Elizabeth Barrett +Browning. A white wreath to mark her woman's purity lies on her head; +the laurel wreath of the poet lies at her feet; and friendly hands +scatter white flowers over the grave of a week as symbols of the dead. + +We feel as she wrote,-- + + "God keeps a niche + In heaven to hold our idols; and albeit + He brake them to our faces, and denied + That our close kisses should impair their white, + I know we shall behold them raised, complete, + The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, + New Memnons singing in the great God-light." + +It is strange that Cavour and Mrs. Browning should have died in the same +month, within twenty-three days of each other,--the one the head, the +other the heart of Italy. As head and heart made up the perfect life, +so death was not complete until Heaven welcomed both. It seemed also +strange, that on the night after Mrs. Browning's decease an unexpected +comet should glare ominously out of the sky. For the moment we were +superstitious, and believed in it as a minister of woe. + +Great as is this loss, Mrs. Browning's death is not without a sad +consolation. From the shattered condition of her lungs, the physician +feels assured that existence could not at the farthest have been +prolonged for more than six months. Instead of a sudden call to God, +life would have slowly ebbed away; and, too feeble for the slightest +exertion, she must have been denied the solace of books, of friends, of +writing, perhaps of thought even. God saved her from a living grave, +and her husband from protracted misery. Seeking for the shadow of Mrs. +Browning's self in her poetry, (for she was a rare instance of an +author's superiority to his work,) many an expression is found that +welcomes the thought of a change which would free her from the suffering +inseparable from her mortality. There is a yearning for a more fully +developed life, to be found most frequently in her sonnets. She writes +at times as though, through weakness of the body, her wings were tied:-- + + "When I attain to utter forth in verse + Some inward thought, my soul throbs audibly + Along my pulses, yearning to be free, + And something farther, fuller, higher rehearse, + To the individual true, and the universe, + In consummation of right harmony! + But, like a wind-exposed, distorted tree, + We are blown against forever by the curse + Which breathes through Nature. Oh, the world is weak; + The effluence of each is false to all; + Add what we best conceive, we fail to speak! + Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall, + And then resume thy broken strains, and seek + Fit peroration without let or thrall!" + +The "ashen garments" have fallen,-- + + "And though we must have and have had + Right reason to be earthly sad, + Thou Poet-God art great and glad!" + +It was meet that Mrs. Browning should come home to die in her Florence, +in her Casa Guidi, where she had passed her happy married life, where +her boy was born, and where she had watched and rejoiced over the second +birth of a great nation. Her heart-strings did not entwine themselves +around Rome as around Florence, and it seems as though life had been so +eked out that she might find a lasting sleep in Florence. Rome holds +fast its Shelley and Keats, to whose lowly graves there is many a +reverential pilgrimage; and now Florence, no less honored, has its +shrine sacred to the memory of Theodore Parker and Elizabeth Barrett +Browning. + +The present Florence is not the Florence of other days. It can never be +the same to those who loved it as much for Mrs. Browning's sake as for +its own. Her reflection remains and must ever remain; for, + + "while she rests, her songs in troops + Walk up and down our earthly slopes, + Companioned by diviner hopes." + +The Italians have shown much feeling at the loss which they, too, have +sustained,--more than might have been expected, when it is considered +that few of them are conversant with the English language, and that to +those few English poetry (Byron excepted) is unknown. + +A battalion of the National Guard was to have followed Mrs. Browning's +remains to the grave, had not a misunderstanding as to time frustrated +this testimonial of respect. The Florentines have expressed great +interest in the young boy, Tuscan-born, and have even requested that +he should be educated as an Italian, when any career in the new Italy +should be open to him. Though this offer will not be accepted, it was +most kindly meant, and shows with what reverence Florence regards the +name of Browning. Mrs. Browning's friends are anxious that a tablet to +her memory should be placed in the Florentine Pantheon, the Church of +Santa Croce. It is true she was not a Romanist, neither was she an +Italian,--yet she was Catholic, and more than an Italian. Her genius and +what she has done for Italy entitle her to companionship with Galileo, +Michel Angelo, Dante, and Alfieri. The friars who have given their +permission for the erection of a monument to Cavour in Santa Croce ought +willingly to make room for a tablet on which should be inscribed, + + SHE SANG THE SONG OF ITALY. + SHE WROTE "AURORA LEIGH." + + + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_Edwin of Deira._ By ALEXANDER SMITH. London: Macmillan & Co. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 16mo. + +A third volume of verse by Alexander Smith certainly claims a share of +public attention. We should not be at all surprised, if this, his latest +venture, turn out his most approved one. The volcanic lines in his +earlier pieces drew upon him the wrath of Captain Stab and many younger +officers of justice, till then innocent of ink-shed. The old weapons +will, no doubt, be drawn upon him profusely enough now. Suffice it for +us, this month, if we send to the printer a taste of Alexander's last +feast and ask him to "hand it round." + + * * * * * + +BERTHA. + + "So, in the very depth of pleasant May, + When every hedge was milky white, the lark + A speck against a cape of sunny cloud, + Yet heard o'er all the fields, and when his heart + Made all the world as happy as itself,-- + Prince Edwin, with a score of lusty knights, + Rode forth a bridegroom to bring home his bride. + Brave sight it was to see them on their way, + Their long white mantles ruffling in the wind, + Their jewelled bridles, horses keen as flame + Crushing the flowers to fragrance as they moved! + Now flashed they past the solitary crag, + Now glimmered through the forest's dewy gloom, + Now issued to the sun. The summer night + Hung o'er their tents, within the valley pitched, + Her transient pomp of stars. When that had paled, + And when the peaks of all the region stood + Like crimson islands in a sea of dawn, + They, yet in shadow, struck their canvas town; + For Love shook slumber from him as a foe, + And would not be delayed. At height of noon, + When, shining from the woods afar in front, + The Prince beheld the palace-gates, his heart + Was lost in its own beatings, like a sound + In echoes. When the cavalcade drew near, + To meet it, forth the princely brothers pranced, + In plume and golden scale; and when they met, + Sudden, from out the palace, trumpets rang + Gay wedding music. Bertha, among her maids, + Upstarted, as she caught the happy sound, + Bright as a star that brightens 'gainst the night. + When forth she came, the summer day was dimmed; + For all its sunshine sank into her hair, + Its azure in her eyes. The princely man + Lord of a happiness unknown, unknown, + Which cannot all be known for years and years,-- + Uncomprehended as the shapes of hills + When one stands in the midst! A week went by, + Deepening from feast to feast; and at the close, + The gray priest lifted up his solemn hands, + And two fair lives were sweetly blent in one, + As stream in stream. Then once again the knights + Were gathered fair as flowers upon the sward, + While in the distant chambers women wept, + And, crowding, blessed the little golden head, + So soon to lie upon a stranger's breast, + And light that place no more. The gate stood wide: + Forth Edwin came enclothed with happiness; + She trembled at the murmur and the stir + That heaved around,--then, on a sudden, shrank, + When through the folds of downcast lids she felt + Burn on her face the wide and staring day, + And all the curious eyes. Her brothers cried, + When she was lifted on the milky steed, + 'Ah! little one, 't will soon be dark to-night! + A hundred times we'll miss thee in a day, + A hundred times we'll rise up to thy call, + And want and emptiness will come on us! + Now, at the last, our love would hold thee back! + Let this kiss snap the cord! Cheer up, my girl! + We'll come and see thee when thou hast a boy + To toss up proudly to his father's face, + To let him hear it crow!' Away they rode; + And still the brethren watched them from the door, + Till purple distance took them. How she wept, + When, looking back, she saw the things she knew-- + The palace, streak of waterfall, the mead, + The gloomy belt of forest--fade away + Into the gray of mountains! With a chill + The wide strange world swept round her, and she clung + Close to her husband's side. A silken tent + They spread for her, and for her tiring-girls, + Upon the hills at sunset. All was hushed + Save Edwin; for the thought that Bertha slept + In that wild place,--roofed by the moaning wind, + The black blue midnight with its fiery pulse,-- + So good, so precious, woke a tenderness + In which there lived uneasily a fear + That kept him still awake. And now, high up, + There burned upon the mountain's craggy top + Their journey's rosy signal. On they went; + And as the day advanced, upon a ridge, + They saw their home o'ershadowed by a cloud; + And, hanging but a moment on the steep, + A sunbeam touched it into dusty rain; + And, lo, the town lay gleaming 'mong the woods, + And the wet shores were bright. As nigh they drew, + The town was emptied to its very babes, + And spread as thick as daisies o'er the fields. + The wind that swayed a thousand chestnut cones, + And sported in the surges of the rye, + Forgot its idle play, and, smit with love, + Dwelt in her fluttering robe. On every side + The people leaped like billows for a sight, + And closed behind, like waves behind a ship. + Yet, in the very hubbub of the joy, + A deepening hush went with her on her way; + She was a thing so exquisite, the hind + Felt his own rudeness; silent women blessed + The lady, as her beauty swam in eyes + Sweet with unwonted tears. Through crowds she passed, + Distributing a largess of her smiles; + And as she entered through the palace-gate, + The wondrous sunshine died from out the air, + And everything resumed its common look. + The sun dropped down into the golden west, + Evening drew on apace; and round the fire + The people sat and talked of her who came + That day to dwell amongst them, and they praised + Her sweet face, saying she was good as fair. + + "So, while the town hummed on as was its wont, + With mill, and wheel, and scythe, and lowing steer + In the green field,--while, round a hundred hearths, + Brown Labor boasted of the mighty deeds + Done in the meadow swaths, and Envy hissed + Its poison, that corroded all it touched,-- + Rusting a neighbor's gold, mildewing wheat, + And blistering the pure skin of chastest maid,-- + Edwin and Bertha sat in marriage joy, + From all removed, as heavenly creatures winged, + Alit upon a hill-top near the sun, + When all the world is reft of man and town + By distance, and their hearts the silence fills-- + Not long: for unto them, as unto all, + Down from love's height unto the world of men + Occasion called with many a sordid voice. + So forth they fared with sweetness in their hearts, + That took the sense of sharpness from the thorn. + Sweet is love's sun within the heavens alone, + But not less sweet when tempered by a cloud + Of daily duties! Love's elixir, drained + From out the pure and passionate cup of youth, + Is sweet; but better, providently used, + A few drops sprinkled in each common dish + Wherewith the human table is set forth, + Leavening all with heaven. Seated high + Among his people, on the lofty dais, + Dispensing judgment,--making woodlands ring + Behind a flying hart with hound and horn,-- + Talking with workmen on the tawny sands, + 'Mid skeletons of ships, how best the prow + May slice the big wave and shake off the foam,-- + Edwin preserved a spirit calm, composed, + Still as a river at the full of tide; + And in his eye there gathered deeper blue, + And beamed a warmer summer. And when sprang + The angry blood, at sloth, or fraud, or wrong, + Something of Bertha touched him into peace + And swayed his voice. Among the people went + Queen Bertha, breathing gracious charities, + And saw but smiling faces; for the light + Aye looks on brightened colors. Like the dawn + (Beloved of all the happy, often sought + In the slow east by hollow eyes that watch) + She seemed to husked find clownish gratitude, + That could but kneel and thank. Of industry + She was the fair exemplar, us she span + Among her maids; and every day she broke + Bread to the needy stranger at her gate. + All sloth and rudeness fled at her approach; + The women blushed and courtesied as she passed, + Preserving word and smile like precious gold; + And where on pillows clustered children's heads, + A shape of light she floated through their dreams." + + +_History, Theory, and Practice of the Electric Telegraph_. By GEORGE B. +PRESCOTT, Superintendent of Electric Telegraph Lines. Boston: Ticknor +and Fields. 1861. 12mo. + +It may be safely said that no one of the wonder-working agencies of the +nineteenth century, of an importance in any degree equal to that of the +Electric Telegraph, is so little understood in its practical details by +the world at large. Its results come before us daily, to satisfy +our morning and evening appetite for news; but how few have a clear +knowledge of even the simplest rules which govern its operation, to say +nothing of the vast and complicated system by which these results are +made so universal! The general intelligence, at present, doubtless +outruns the dull apprehension of the typical Hibernian, who, in earlier +telegraphic times, wasted the better part of a day in watching for the +passage of a veritable letter over the wires; but even now,--after +twenty years of Electric Telegraphy, during which the progress of the +magic wire has been so rapid that it has already reached an extent of +nearly sixty thousand miles in the United States alone,--even now the +ideas of men in general as to the _modus operandi_ of this great +agency are, to say the least, extremely vague. Even the chronic and +pamphlet-producing quarrel between the managers of our telegraphic +system and their Briarean antagonist, the daily-newspaper-press, fails +to convey to our general sense anything beyond the impression that +the most gigantic benefits may be so abused as to tempt us into an +occasional wish that they had never existed. + +One reason of this general ignorance has been the absence of any +text-book or manual on the subject, giving a clear and thorough +exposition of its mysteries. The present is the first American work +which takes the subject in hand from the beginning and carries it +through the entire process which leads to the results we have spoken of. +Its author brings to his work the best possible qualification,--a +long familiarity with the subject in the every-day details of its +development. His Introduction informs the reader that he has been +engaged for thirteen years in the business of practical telegraphing. +He is thus sure of his ground, from the best of sources, personal +experience. + +We shall not criticize the work in detail, but shall rest satisfied with +saying that the author has succeeded in his design of making the whole +subject clear to any reader who will follow his lucid and systematic +exposition. The plan of the work is simple, and the arrangement orderly +and proper. A concise statement is given of the fundamental principles +of electricity, and of the means of its artificial propagation. This +includes, of course, a description of the various batteries used in +telegraphing. Then follows a chapter upon electro-magnetism and its +application to the telegraph. This prepares the way for a statement +of the physical conditions under which the electrical current may be +conveyed. The author then describes the instruments necessary for the +transmission and recording of intelligible signs, under which general +head of "Electric Telegraph Apparatus" the various telegraphic systems +are made the subject of careful description. A chapter is given to the +history of each system,--the Morse, the Needle, the House, the Bain, the +Hughes, the Combination, and others of less note. These chapters are +very complete and very interesting, embodying, as they do, the history +of each instrument, the details of its use, and a statement of its +capabilities. The system most used in America is the Combination +system, the printing instrument of which is the result of an ingenious +combination of the most desirable qualities of the House and Hughes +systems. Of this fine instrument a full-page engraving is given, which, +with Mr. Prescott's careful explanation, renders the recording process +very clear. + +The next division of the work relates to subterranean and submarine +telegraphic lines. Of this the greater portion is devoted to the +Atlantic cable, the great success and the great failure of our time. +The chapter devoted to this unfortunate enterprise gives the completest +account of its rise, progress, and decline that we have ever seen. It +seems to set at rest, so far as evidence can do it, the mooted question +whether any message ever did really pass through the submerged cable,--a +point upon which there are many unbelievers, even at the present day. We +think these unbelievers would do well to read the account before us. Mr. +Prescott informs us, that, from the first laying of the cable to the day +when it ceased to work, no less than four hundred messages were actually +transmitted: one hundred and twenty-nine from Valentia to Trinity Bay, +and two hundred and seventy-one from Trinity Bay to Valentia. The +curious reader may find copies of all these messages chronologically set +down in this volume. Mr. Prescott expresses entire confidence in the +restoration of telegraphic communication between the two hemispheres. It +may be reasonably doubted, however, if _direct submarine_ communication +will ever be resumed. Two other routes are suggested as more likely +to become the course of the international wires. One is that lately +examined by Sir Leopold M'Clintock and Captain Young, under the auspices +of the British Government. This route, taking the extreme northern coast +of Scotland as its point of departure, and touching the Faroe Islands, +Iceland, and Greenland, strikes our continent upon the coast of +Labrador, making the longest submarine section eight hundred miles, +about one-third the length of the Atlantic cable. There is not a little +doubt, however, as to the practicability of this route; and as the +British Government has already expended several hundred thousand pounds +in experimenting upon submarine cables, it is not likely that it will +venture much more upon any project not holding out a very absolute +promise of success. What seems more likely is, that our telegraphic +communication with Europe will be made eventually through Asia. Even +now the Russian Government is vigorously pushing its telegraphic lines +eastward from Moscow; and its own interest affords a strong guaranty +that telegraphic communication will soon be established between its +commercial metropolis and its military and trading posts on the Pacific +border. A project has also recently taken form to establish a line +between Quebec and the Hudson Bay Company's posts north of the Columbia +River. With the two extremes so near meeting, a submarine wire would +soon be laid over Behring's Straits, or crossing at a more southern +point and touching the Aleutian Islands in its passage. + +Two of the chapters of this work will be recognized by readers of the +"Atlantic" as having first appeared in its pages,--a chapter upon the +Progress and Present Condition of the Electric Telegraph in the various +countries of the world, and a description of the Electrical Influence +of the Aurora Borealis upon the Working of the Telegraph. These, with +a curiously interesting chapter upon the Various Applications of the +Telegraph, and an amusing miscellaneous chapter showing that the +Telegraph has a literature of its own, complete the chief popular +elements of the volume. The remainder is devoted mainly to a technical +treatise on the proper method of constructing telegraphic lines, +perfecting insulation, etc. In an Appendix we have a more careful +consideration of Galvanism, and a more detailed examination of the +qualities and capacities of the various batteries. + +As is becoming in any, and especially in an American, treatise upon this +great subject, Mr. Prescott devotes some space to a detailed account of +the labors of Professor Morse, which have led to his being regarded as +the father of our American system of telegraphing. In a chapter entitled +"Early Discoveries in Electro-Dynamics," he publishes for the first time +some interesting facts elicited during the trial, in the Supreme Court +of the United States, of the suit of the Morse patentees against the +House Company for alleged infringement of patent. In this chapter we +have a _résumé_ of the evidence before the Court, and an abstract of the +decision of Judge Woodbury. This leads clearly to the conclusion, that, +although Professor Morse had no claims to any merit of actual invention, +yet he had the purely mechanical merit of having gone beyond all his +compeers in the application of discoveries and inventions already made, +and that he was the first to contrive and set in operation a thoroughly +effective instrument. + +Mr. Prescott has produced a very readable and useful book. It has been +thoroughly and appropriately illustrated, and is a very elegant specimen +of the typographer's art. + + +_Great Expectations_. By CHARLES DICKENS. Philadelphia: T.B. Peterson & +Brothers. 8vo. + +The very title of this book indicates the confidence of conscious +genius. In a new aspirant for public favor, such a title might have been +a good device to attract attention; but the most famous novelist of the +day, watched by jealous rivals and critics, could hardly have selected +it, had he not inwardly felt the capacity to meet all the expectations +he raised. We have read it, as we have read all Mr. Dickens's previous +works, as it appeared in instalments, and can testify to the felicity +with which expectation was excited and prolonged, and to the series of +surprises which accompanied the unfolding of the plot of the story. In +no other of his romances has the author succeeded so perfectly in at +once stimulating and baffling the curiosity of his readers. He stirred +the dullest minds to guess the secret of his mystery; but, so far as +we have learned, the guesses of his most intelligent readers have been +almost as wide of the mark as those of the least apprehensive. It has +been all the more provoking to the former class, that each surprise was +the result of art, and not of trick; for a rapid review of previous +chapters has shown that the materials of a strictly logical development +of the story were freely given. Even after the first, second, third, and +even fourth of these surprises gave their pleasing electric shocks +to intelligent curiosity, the _dénouement_ was still hidden, though +confidentially foretold. The plot of the romance is therefore +universally admitted to be the best that Dickens has ever invented. Its +leading events are, as we read the story consecutively, artistically +necessary, yet, at the same time, the processes are artistically +concealed. We follow the movement of a logic of passion and character, +the real premises of which we detect only when we are startled by the +conclusions. + +The plot of "Great Expectations" is also noticeable as indicating, +better than any of his previous stories, the individuality of Dickens's +genius. Everybody must have discerned in the action of his mind two +diverging tendencies, which, in this novel, are harmonized. He possesses +a singularly wide, clear, and minute power of accurate observation, +both of things and of persons; but his observation, keen and true to +actualities as it independently is, is not a dominant faculty, and is +opposed or controlled by the strong tendency of his disposition to +pathetic or humorous idealization. Perhaps in "The Old Curiosity Shop" +these qualities are best seen in their struggle and divergence, and +the result is a magnificent juxtaposition of romantic tenderness, +melodramatic improbabilities, and broad farce. The humorous +characterization is joyously exaggerated into caricature,--the serious +characterization into romantic unreality, Richard Swiveller and Little +Nell refuse to combine. There is abundant evidence of genius both in the +humorous and the pathetic parts, but the artistic impression is one of +anarchy rather than unity. + +In "Great Expectations," on the contrary, Dickens seems to have attained +the mastery of powers which formerly more or less mastered him. He has +fairly discovered that he cannot, like Thackeray, narrate a story as if +he were a mere looker-on, a mere "knowing" observer of what he describes +and represents; and he has therefore taken observation simply as the +basis of his plot and his characterization. As we read "Vanity Fair" and +"The Newcomes," we are impressed with the actuality of the persons and +incidents. There is an absence both of directing ideas and disturbing +idealizations. Everything drifts to its end, as in real life. In "Great +Expectations" there is shown a power of external observation finer and +deeper even than Thackeray's; and yet, owing to the presence of other +qualities, the general impression is not one of objective reality. The +author palpably uses his observations as materials for his creative +faculties to work upon; he does not record, but invents; and he produces +something which is natural only under conditions prescribed by his own +mind. He shapes, disposes, penetrates, colors, and contrives everything, +and the whole action, is a series of events which could have occurred +only in his own brain, and which it is difficult to conceive of as +actually "happening." And yet in none of his other works does he +evince a shrewder insight into real life, and a clearer perception +and knowledge of what is called "the world." The book is, indeed, an +artistic creation, and not a mere succession of humorous and pathetic +scenes, and demonstrates that Dickens is now in the prime, and not in +the decline of his great powers. + +The characters of the novel also show how deeply it has been meditated; +for, though none of them may excite the personal interest which clings +to Sam Weller or little Dombey, they are better fitted to each other and +to the story in which they appear than is usual with Dickens. They all +combine to produce that unity of impression which the work leaves on +the mind. Individually they will rank among the most original of the +author's creations. Magwitch and Joe Gargery, Jaggers and Wemmick, +Pip and Herbert, Wopsle, Pumblechook, and "the Aged," Miss Havisham, +Estella, and Biddy, are personages which the most assiduous readers of +Dickens must pronounce positive additions to the characters his rich and +various genius had already created. + +Pip, the hero, from whose mind the whole representation takes its form +and color, is admirably delineated throughout. Weak, dreamy, amiable, +apprehensive, aspiring, inefficient, the subject and the victim of +"Great Expectations," his individuality is, as it were, diffused through +the whole narrative. Joe is a noble character, with a heart too great +for his powers of expression to utter in words, but whose patience, +fortitude, tenderness, and beneficence shine lucidly through his +confused and mangled English. Magwitch, the "warmint" who "grew up took +up," whose memory extended only to that period of his childhood when he +was "a-thieving turnips for his living" down in Essex, but in whom a +life of crime had only intensified the feeling of gratitude for the one +kind action of which he was the object, is hardly equalled in grotesque +grandeur by anything which Dickens has previously done. The character +is not only powerful in itself, but it furnishes pregnant and original +hints to all philosophical investigators into the phenomena of crime. In +this wonderful creation Dickens follows the maxim of the great master of +characterization, and seeks "the soul of goodness in things evil." + +The style of the romance is rigorously close to things. The author is so +engrossed with the objects before his mind, is so thoroughly in earnest, +that he has fewer of those humorous caprices of expression in which +formerly he was wont to wanton. Some of the old hilarity and play of +fancy is gone, but we hardly miss it in our admiration of the effects +produced by his almost stern devotion to the main idea of his work. +There are passages of description and narrative in which we are hardly +conscious of the words, in our clear apprehension of the objects and +incidents they convey. The quotable epithets and phrases are less +numerous than in "Dombey & Son" and "David Copperfield"; but the scenes +and events impressed on the imagination are perhaps greater in number +and more vivid in representation. The poetical element of the writer's +genius, his modification of the forms, hues, and sounds of Nature by +viewing them through the medium of an imagined mind, is especially +prominent throughout the descriptions with which the work abounds. +Nature is not only described, but individualized and humanized. + +Altogether we take great joy in recording our conviction that "Great +Expectations" is a masterpiece. We have never sympathized in the mean +delight which some critics seem to experience in detecting the signs +which subtly indicate the decay of power in creative intellects. We +sympathize still less in the stupid and ungenerous judgments of those +who find a still meaner delight in wilfully asserting that the last book +of a popular writer is unworthy of the genius which produced his first. +In our opinion, "Great Expectations" is a work which proves that we may +expect from Dickens a series of romances far exceeding in power and +artistic skill the productions which have already given him such a +preeminence among the novelists of the age. + + +_Tom Brown at Oxford: A Sequel to School-Days at Rugby_. By the Author +of "School-Days at Rugby," "Scouring of the White Horse," etc. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 2 vols. 16mo. + +Thomas Hughes, the author of these volumes, does not, on a superficial +examination, seem to deserve the wide reputation he has obtained. We +hunt his books in vain for any of those obvious peculiarities of style, +thought, and character which commonly distinguish a man from his +fellows. He does not possess striking wit, or humor, or imagination, or +power of expression. In every quality, good or bad, calculated to create +"a sensation," he is remarkably deficient. Yet everybody reads him with +interest, and experiences for him a feeling of personal affection and +esteem. An unobtrusive, yet evident nobility of character, a sound, +large, "round-about" common-sense, a warm sympathy with English and +human kind, a practical grasp of human life as it is lived by ordinary +people, and an unmistakable sincerity and earnestness of purpose animate +everything he writes. His "School-Days at Rugby" delighted men as well +as boys by the freshness, geniality, and truthfulness with which it +represented boyish experiences; and the Tom Brown who, in that book, +gained so many friends wherever the English tongue is spoken, parts with +none of his power to interest and charm in this record of his collegiate +life. Mr. Hughes has the true, wholesome English love of home, the +English delight in rude physical sports, the English hatred of hypocrisy +and cant, the English fidelity to facts, the English disbelief in all +piety and morality which are not grounded in manliness. The present work +is full of illustrations of these healthy qualities of his nature, +and they are all intimately connected with an elevated, yet eminently +sagacious spirit of Christian philanthropy. Tom Brown at Oxford, as well +as Tom Brown at Rugby, will, so far as he exerts any influence, exert +one for good. He has a plentiful lack of those impossible virtues which +disgust boys and young men with the models set up as examples for them +to emulate in books deliberately moral and religious; but he none the +less shows how a manly and Christian character can be attained by +methods which are all the more influential by departing from the common +mechanical contrivances for fashioning lusty youths into consumptive +saints, incompetent to do the work of the Lord in this world, however +they may fare in the next. Mr. Hughes can hardly be called a disciple of +"Muscular Christianity," except so far as muscle is necessary to give +full efficiency to mind; but he feels all the contempt possible to such +a tolerant nature for that spurious piety which kills the body in order +to give a sickly appearance of life to the soul. + + * * * * * + + +RECENT AMERICAN PUBLICATIONS + +RECEIVED BY THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + + +History of Civilization in England. By Henry Thomas Buckle. Vol. II. +From the Second London Edition, to which is added an Alphabetical Index. +New York. D. Appleton & Co. 8vo. pp. 476. $2.50. + +Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa: with Accounts of the +Manners and Customs of the People, and of the Chase of the Gorilla and +other Wild Animals. By Paul B. Du Chaillu. Illustrated. New York. Harper +& Brothers. 8vo. pp. 526. $3.00. + +The Adventures of Captain Bonneville, U.S.A., in the Rocky Mountains +and the Far West. Digested from his Journal, and illustrated from +Various other Sources. By Washington Irving. Author's Revised Edition. +New York. G.P. Putnam. 12mo. pp. 427. $1.50. + +Miles Wallingford. A Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore." By J. Fenimore +Cooper. From Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. W.A. Townsend & Co. +12mo. pp. 467. $1.50. + +Ways of the Hour. A Tale. By J. Fenimore Cooper. Illustrated from +Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. W.A. Townsend & Co. 12mo. pp. +512. $1.50. + +The Heidenmaner; or, The Benedictines. A Legend of the Rhine. By J. +Fenimore Cooper. Illustrated from Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. +W.A. Townsend & Co. 12mo. pp. 464. $1.50. + +The Works of Edgar Allan Poe. New Edition, on tinted paper. New York. +W.J. Widdleton. 4 vols. 12mo. pp. 481. $5.00. + +The Fifth Reader of the School and Family Series. By M. Willson. New +York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 540. $1.00. + +Military Dictionary: Comprising Technical Definitions, Information on +Raising and Keeping Troops, Actual Service, including Makeshift and +Improved Material, and Law, Government, Regulation, and Administration +relating to Land Forces. By Colonel H.L. Scott, Inspector General U.S.A. +New York. D. Van Nostrand. 8vo. pp. 674. $5.00. + +Philip Thaxter. A Novel. New York. Rudd & Carleton. 12mo. pp. 350. +$1.00. + +Poem, delivered before the Alumni Association of the New England Yearly +Meeting School, at their Third Annual Meeting at Newport, 1861. By Pliny +Earle, M.D. Providence. Knowles, Anthony, & Co. 8vo. paper. pp. 16. 12 +cts. + +Chamber's Encyclopaedia: A Dictionary of Universal Knowledge for +the People, on the Basis of the Latest Edition of the German +Conversations-Lexicon. Parts XXXI., XXXII., XXXIII. Philadelphia. J.B. +Lippincott & Co. 8vo. paper. each part, pp. 55. 15 cts. + +Sermons and Speeches of Gerritt Smith. New York. Ross & Tousey. 8vo. pp. +200. $1.00. + +Mahomet and his Successors. By Washington Irving. Vol. I. Illustrated +Edition. New York. G.P. Putnam. 12mo. pp. 372. $1.50. + +Abridgment of the Debates of Congress, from 1789 to 1856, from Gales and +Seaton's Annals of Congress, from their Register of Debates, and from +the Official Reported Debates, by John C. Rives. By the Author of "The +Thirty Years' View." Vol. XVI. New York. D. Appleton & Co. 8vo. pp. 631. +$3.00. + +The Silent Woman. By the Author of "King's Cope," etc. Boston. T.O.H.P. +Burham. 8vo. paper. pp. 178. 50 cts. + +Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens. Household Edition. New York. W.A. +Townsend & Co. 16mo. 2 vols. pp. 285 and 290. $1.50. + +Poems by Mrs. Virginia Quarles. New York. Rudd & Carleton. 12mo. pp. +120. 50 cts. + +Elementary Instruction in Naval Ordnance and Gunnery. By James H. Ward, +Commander U.S.N. New York. James H. Ward. 8vo. pp. 209. $2.50. + +T. Lucretii Cari de Rerum Natura Libri Sex. Recognovit Hugo A.I. Munro, +M.A. New York. Harper & Brothers. 24mo. pp. 190. 40 cts. + +C. Julii Caesaris Commentarii de Bello Gallico. Recognovit Geo. Long, +M.A. New York. Harper & Brothers. 24mo. pp. 137. 40 cts. + +M. Tullii Ciceronis Cato Major, sive de Senectute; Laelius, sive de +Amicitia; et Epistolas Selectae. Recensuit G. Long. New York. Harper & +Brothers. 24mo. pp. 112. 40 cts. + +History of Margaret of Anjou, Queen of Henry VI. of England. By Jacob +Abbott. New York. Harper & Brothers. 18mo. pp. 314. 60 cts. + +Primary Object Lessons for a Graduated Course of Development. A Manual +for Teachers and Parents. 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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..bf8d6b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11316 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11316) diff --git a/old/11316-8.txt b/old/11316-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..28dcce1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11316-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9276 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Atlantic Monthly, Volume 8, No. 47, +September, 1861, by Various + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Atlantic Monthly, Volume 8, No. 47, September, 1861 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 26, 2004 [eBook #11316] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, VOLUME 8, NO. +47, SEPTEMBER, 1861*** + + +E-text prepared by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen, and Project Gutenberg +Distributed Proofreaders + + + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. VIII.--SEPTEMBER, 1861.--NO. XLVII. + + + + + + + +THE SHAKESPEARE MYSTERY. + + +In 1853 there went up a jubilant cry from many voices upon the +publication of Mr. Collier's "Notes and Emendations to the Text of +Shakespeare's Plays from Early Manuscript Corrections," etc. "Now," it +was said, "doubt and controversy are at an end. The text is settled by +the weight of authority, and in accordance with common sense. We shall +enjoy our Shakespeare in peace and quiet." Hopeless ignorance of +Shakespeare-loving nature! The shout of rejoicing had hardly been +uttered before there arose a counter cry of warning and defiance from +a few resolute lips, which, swelling, mouth by mouth, as attention was +aroused and conviction strengthened, has overwhelmed the other, now sunk +into a feeble apologetic plea. The dispute upon the marginal readings in +this notorious volume, as to their intrinsic value and their pretence to +authority upon internal evidence, has ended in the rejection of nearly +all of the few which are known to be peculiar to it, and the conclusion +against any semblance of such authority. The investigation of the +external evidence of their genuineness, though it has not been quite so +satisfactory upon all points, has brought to light so many suspicious +circumstances connected with Mr. Collier's production of them before the +public, that they must be regarded as unsupported by the moral weight of +good faith in the only person who is responsible for them. + +Since our previous article upon this subject,[A] nothing has appeared +upon it in this country; but several important publications have +been made in London concerning it; and, in fact, this department of +Shakespearian literature threatens to usurp a special shelf in the +dramatic library. The British Museum has fairly entered the field, not +only in the persons of Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Maskelyne, but in that of +Sir Frederic Madden himself, the head of its Manuscript Department, and +one of the very first paleographers of the age; Mr. Collier has made a +formal reply; the Department of Public Records has spoken through Mr. +Duffus Hardy; the "Edinburgh Review" has taken up the controversy on one +side and "Fraser's Magazine" on the other; the London "Critic" has kept +up a galling fire on Mr. Collier, his folio, and his friends, to which +the "Athenaeum" has replied by an occasional shot, red-hot; the author +of "Literary Cookery," (said to be Mr. Arthur Edmund Brae,) a well-read, +ingenious, caustic, and remorseless writer, whose first book was +suppressed as libellous, has returned to the charge, and not less +effectively because more temperately; and finally an LL.D., Mansfield +Ingleby, of Trinity College, Cambridge, comes forward with a "Complete +View of the Controversy," which is manifestly meant for a complete +extinction of Mr. Collier. Dr. Ingleby's book is quite a good one of its +kind, and those who seek to know the history and see the grounds of this +famous and bitter controversy will find it very serviceable. It gives, +what it professes to give, a complete view of the whole subject from the +beginning, and treats most of the prominent points of it with care, and +generally with candor. Its view, however, is from the stand-point of +uncompromising hostility to Mr. Collier, and its spirit not unlike that +with which a man might set out to exterminate vermin.[B] + +[Footnote A: October, 1859. No. XXIV.] + +[Footnote B: We do not attribute the spirit of Dr. Ingleby's book to any +inherent malignity or deliberately malicious purpose of its author, but +rather to that relentless partisanship which this folio seems to have +excited among the British critics. So we regard his reference to +"almighty smash" and "catawampously chawed up" as specimens of the +language used in America, and his disparagement of the English in vogue +here, less as a manifestation of a desire to misrepresent, or even a +willingness to sneer, than as an amusing exhibition of utter ignorance. +In what part of America and from what lips did Dr. Ingleby ever hear +these phrases? We have never heard them; and in a somewhat varied +experience of American life have never been in any society, however +humble, in which they would not excite laughter, if not astonishment, +--astonishment even greater than that with which Americans of average +cultivation would read such phrases as these in a goodly octavo +published by a Doctor of the Laws of Cambridge University. "And one +ground upon which the hypothesis of Hamlet's insanity has been built is +'_swagged_.'" (_Complete View_, p. 82.) "The interests of literature +_jeopardized_, but not compromised." (_Ib_. p. 10.) "The rest of Mr. +Collier's remarks on the H.S. letter _relates_," etc. (_Ib_. p. 260.) +"_In_ the middle of this volume has been foisted." (_Ib_. p. 261.) We +shall not say that this is British English; but we willingly confess +that it is not American English. Such writing would not be tolerated in +the leading columns of any newspaper of reputation in this country; it +might creep in among the work of the second or third rate reporters.] + +And here we pause a moment to consider the temper in which this question +has been discussed among the British critics and editors. From the very +beginning, eight years ago, there have been manifestations of personal +animosity, indications of an eagerness to seize the opportunity of +venting long secreted venom. This has appeared as well in books as in +more ephemeral publications, and upon both sides, and even between +writers on the same side. On every hand there has been a most deplorable +impeachment of motive, accompanied by a detraction of character by +imputation which is quite shocking. Petty personal slights have been +insinuated as the ultimate cause of an expression of opinion upon an +important literary question, and testimony has been impeached and +judgment disparaged by covert allegations of disgraceful antecedent +conduct on the part of witnesses or critics. Indeed, at times there has +seemed reason to believe the London "Literary Gazette" (we quote from +memory) right in attributing this whole controversy to a quarrel which +has long existed in London, and which, having its origin in the alleged +abstraction of manuscripts from a Cambridge library by a Shakespearian +scholar, has made most of the British students of this department +of English letters more or less partisans on one side or the other. +Certainly the "Saturday Review" is correct, (in all but its English,) +when it says that in this controversy "a mere literary question and a +grave question of personal character are being awkwardly mixed together, +and neither question is being conducted in a style at all satisfactory +or creditable to literary men." + +Mr. Collier is told by Mr. Duffus Hardy that "he has no one to blame but +himself" for "the tone which has been adopted by those who differ from +him upon this matter," because he, (Mr. Collier,) by his answer in the +"Times" to Mr. Hamilton, made it "a personal, rather than a literary +question." But, we may ask, how is it possible for a man accused +of palming off a forgery upon the public to regard the question as +impersonal, even although it may not be alleged in specific terms that +he is the forger? Mr. Collier is like the frog in the fable. This +pelting with imputations of forgery may be very fine fun to the pelters, +but it is death to him. To them, indeed, it may be a mere question of +evidence and criticism; but to him it must, in any case, be one of vital +personal concern. Yet we cannot find any sufficient excuse for the +manner in which Mr. Collier has behaved in this affair from the very +beginning. His cause is damaged almost as much by his own conduct, and +by the tone of his defence, as by the attacks of his accusers. A very +strong argument against his complicity in any fraudulent proceeding +in relation to his folio might have been founded upon an untarnished +reputation, and a frank and manly attitude on his part; but, on the +contrary, his course has been such as to cast suspicion upon every +transaction with which he has been connected. + +First he says[C] that he bought this folio in 1849 to "complete another +poor copy of the seconde folio"; and in the next paragraph he adds, "As +it turned out, I at first repented my bargain, because when I took it +home, it appeared that two leaves which I wanted were unfit for my +purpose, not merely by being too short, but damaged and defaced." +And finally he says that it was not until the spring of 1850 that he +"observed some marks in the margin of this folio." Now did Mr. Collier, +by some mysterious instinct, light directly, first upon one of the +leaves, and then upon the other, which he wished to find, in a folio of +nine hundred pages? It is almost incredible that he did so once; that he +did so twice is quite beyond belief. It is equally incredible, that if +the textual changes were then upon the margins in the profusion in which +they now exist, he could have looked for the two leaves which he needed +without noticing and examining such a striking peculiarity. Clearly +those marginal readings must have been seen by Mr. Collier in his search +for the two leaves he needed, or they have been written since. Either +case is fatal to his reputation. His various accounts of his interviews +with Mr. Parry, who, it was thought, once owned the book, are +inconsistent with each other, and at variance with Mr. Parry's own +testimony, and the probabilities, not to say the possibilities, of the +case. He says, for instance, that he showed the folio to Mr. Parry; and +that Mr. Parry took it into his hand, examined it, and pronounced it the +volume he had once owned. But, on the contrary, Mr. Parry says that Mr. +Collier showed him no book; that he exhibited only fac-similes; that he +(Mr. Parry) was, on the occasion in question, unable to hold a book, as +his hands were occupied with two sticks, by the assistance of which he +was limping along the road. And on being shown Mr. Collier's folio at +the British Museum, Mr. Parry said that he never saw that volume before, +although he distinctly remembered the size and appearance of his own +folio; and the accuracy of his memory has been since entirely confirmed +by the discovery of a fly-leaf lost from his folio which conforms to +his description, and is of a notably different size and shape from the +leaves of the Collier folio.[D]--Mr. Collier has declared, in the most +positive and explicit manner, that he has "often gone over the thousands +of marks of all kinds" on the margins of his folio; and again, that he +has "reëxamined every fine and letter"; and finally, that, to enable +"those interested in such matters" to "see _the entire body _in the +shortest form," he "appended them to the present volume [_Seven +Lectures_, etc.] in one column," etc. This column he calls, too, "A +List of _Every Manuscript Note and Emendation_ in Mr. Collier's Copy of +Shakespeare's Works, folio, 1632." Now Mr. Hamilton, having gone over +the margins of "Hamlet" in the folio, finds that Mr. Collier's published +list "_does not contain one-half_ of the corrections, many of the most +significant being among those omitted." He sustains his allegation by +publishing the results of the collation of "Hamlet," to which we shall +hereafter refer more particularly, when we shall see that the reason of +Mr. Collier's suppression of so large a portion of these alterations and +additions was, that their publication would have made the condemnation +of his folio swift and certain. We have here a distinct statement of +the thing that is not, and a manifest and sufficient motive for the +deception. + +[Footnote C: Notes and Emendations, p. vii.] + +[Footnote D: This volume is universally spoken of as the Perkins folio +by the British critics. But we preserve the designation under which it +is so widely known in America.] + +It has also been discovered that Mr. Collier has misrepresented the +contents of the postscript of a letter from Mistress Alleyn to her +husband, Edward Alleyn, the eminent actor of Shakespeare's day. This +letter was first published by Mr. Collier in his "Memoirs of Edward +Alleyn" in 1841, where he represents the following broken passage as +part of it:-- + +"Aboute a weeke a goe there came a youthe who said he was Mr Frauncis +Chaloner who would have borrowed X'li. to have bought things for ... and +_said he was known unto you and Mr Shakespeare of the globe, who came +... said he knewe hym not, onely he herde of hym that he was a roge... +so he was glade we did not lend him the monney ... Richard Johnes [went] +to seeke_ and inquire after the fellow," etc. + +The paper on which this postscript is written is very much decayed, +and has been broken and torn away by the accidents of time; but enough +remains to show that the passage in question stands thus,--the letters +in brackets being obliterated:-- + +"Aboute a weeke agoe ther[e] [cam]e a youthe who said he was || Mr. +Frauncis Chalo[ner]s man [& wou]ld have borrow[e]d x's.--to || have +bought things for [hi]s Mri[s]..... [tru]st hym || Cominge wthout... +token.... d ||I would have.... || [i]f I bene sue[r] ..... || and +inquire after the fellow," etc. + +The parallels || in the above paragraph indicate the divisions of the +lines in the original manuscript; and a moment's examination will +convince the reader that the existence of those words of Mr. Collier's +version which we have printed in Italic letter in the place to which he +assigns them is a physical impossibility, as Mr. Hamilton has clearly +shown.[E] And that the mention of Shakespeare, and what he said, was not +on a part of the letter which has been broken away, is made certain by +the fortunate preservation of enough of the lower margin to show that no +such passage could have been written upon it. + +[Footnote E: _An Inquiry_, etc., pp. 86-89. See also Ingleby's _Complete +View_, etc., pp. 279-288. Both Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby give +fac-similes of this important postscript.] + +Mr. Collier has also been convicted by Mr. Dyce of positive and +malicious misrepresentation in various passages of the Prolegomena and +Notes to his last edition of Shakespeare. (London, 1858, 6 vols.) The +misrepresentations refer so purely to matters of textual criticism, +and the exhibition of even one of them would involve the quotation of +passages so uninteresting to the general reader, that we shall ask him +to be content with our assurance that these disgraceful attempts to +injure a literary opponent and former friend assume severally the form +of direct misstatement, suppression of the truth, prevarication, +and cunning perversion; the manner and motive throughout being very +shabby.[F] The purpose of all these attacks upon Mr. Dyce is not only to +wound and disparage him, but to secure for the writer a reputation for +superior sagacity and antiquarian learning; and we regret that we are +obliged to close this part of our paper by saying that we find that the +same motive has led Mr. Collier into similar courses during a great part +of his literary career. It has been necessary for us to examine all +that he has written upon Shakespeare, and we have again and again +found ourselves misled into giving him temporary credit for a point +established or a fact discovered, when in truth this credit was due +to Malone or Chalmers or some other Shakespearian scholar of the past +century, and was sought to be appropriated by Mr. Collier, not through +direct misstatement, but by such an ingenious wording and construction +of sentences as would accomplish the purpose without absolute falsehood. +An instance of this kind of manoeuvring is brought to light in +connection with the investigations into the discovery and character of a +paper known as "The Players' Petition," which was first made public by +Mr. Collier in his "Annals of the Stage," (Vol. i. p. 298,) and which +has been pronounced a forgery. Of this he says, in his "Reply to Mr. +Hamilton," (p. 59,) "Mr. Lemon, Senior, _undoubtedly did_ bring the +'Players' Petition' under my notice, and very much obliged I was," etc. +Now Mr. Collier, in the "Annals of the Stage," after extended remarks +upon the importance of the document, merely says, "This remarkable paper +has, perhaps, never seen the light from the moment it was presented, +until it was recently discovered." No direct assertion here that Mr. +Collier discovered it, but a leading of the reader to infer that he did; +and not a word about Mr. Lemon's agency, until, upon the suggestion of +that gentleman's son, it is serviceable to Mr. Collier to remember it. +By reference to Mr. Grant White's "Shakespeare," Vol. ii. p. lx., an +instance may be seen of a positive misstatement by Mr. Collier, of +which, whatever the motive or the manner, the result is to deprive +Chalmers of a microscopic particle of antiquarian credit and to +bestow it upon himself. In fact, our confidence in Mr. Collier's +trustworthiness, which, diminished by discoveries like these, as our +knowledge of his labors increased, has been quite extinguished under the +accumulated evidence of either his moral obliquity or his intellectual +incapacity for truth. We can now accept from him, merely upon his word, +no statement as true by which he has anything to gain. + +[Footnote F: See Dyce's _Strictures_, etc., pp. 2, 22, 28, 35, 51, 54, +56, 57, 58, 70, 123, 127, 146, 168, 192, 203, 204.] + +The bad effect of what he does is increased by the manner in which he +seeks to shield himself from the consequences of his acts. He should +have said at once, "Let this matter be investigated, and here am I to +aid in the investigation," Soon after this folio was brought into public +notice, Mr. Charles Knight proposed that it should be submitted to a +palaeographic examination by gentlemen of acknowledged competence; but +so far was Mr. Collier from yielding to this suggestion, that we have +good reason for saying that it was not until after the volume passed, in +1859, into the hands of Sir Frederic Madden of the British Museum, +that the more eminent Shakespearian scholars in London had even an +opportunity to look at it closely.[G] The attacks upon the genuineness +of the writing on its margins Mr. Collier was at once too ready to +regard as impeachments of his personal integrity, and to shirk by making +counter-insinuations against the integrity of his opponents and the +correctness of their motives. He attributes to the pettiest personal +spite or jealousy the steps which they have taken in discharge of a duty +to the interests of literature and the literary guild, and at the risk +of their professional reputations, and then slinks back from his charges +with,--"I have been told this, but I don't believe it: this may be so, +but yet it cannot be: I did something that Mr. So-and-so's father did +not like, yet I wouldn't for a moment insinuate," etc., etc.[H] Then, +Mr. Collier, why do you insinuate? And what in any case do you gain? +Suppose the men who deny the good faith of your marginalia are the +small-souled creatures you would have us believe they are, they do not +make this denial upon their personal responsibility merely; they produce +facts. Meet those; and do not go about to make one right out of two +wrongs. Cease, too, this crawling upon your belly before the images of +dukes and carls and lord chief-justices; digest speedily the wine and +biscuits which a gentleman has brought to you in his library, and let +them pass away out of your memory. Let us have no more such sneaking +sentences as, "I have always striven to make myself as unobjectionable +as I could"; but stand up like a man and speak like a man, if you have +aught to say that is worth saying; and your noble patrons, no less than +the world at large, will have more faith in you, and more respect for +you. + +[Footnote G: Such hasty examinations as those which it must have +received at the Society of Antiquaries and the Shakespeare Society, +where Mr. Collier took it, are of little importance.] + +[Footnote H: See, for instance, "I have been told, but I do not believe +it, that Sir F. Madden and his colleagues were irritated by this piece +of supposed neglect; and that they also took it ill that I presented the +Perkins folio to the kindest, most condescending, and most liberal of +noblemen, instead of giving it to their institution." (_Reply_, p. 11.) +And see the same pamphlet and Mr. Collier's letters, _passim_.] + +But what has been established by the examination of Mr. Collier's folio +and the manuscripts which he has brought to light? These very important +points:-- + +The folio contains more than twice, nearly three times, as many marginal +readings, including stage-directions and changes of orthography, as are +enumerated in Mr. Collier's "List of Every," etc. + +The margins retain in numerous places the traces of +pencil-memorandums.[I] + +[Footnote I: This is finally admitted even by Mr. Collier's supporters. +The Edinburgh Reviewer says,--"But then the mysterious pencil-marks! +They are there, most undoubtedly, and in very great numbers too. The +natural surprise that they were not earlier detected is somewhat +diminished on inspection. Some say they have 'come out' more in the +course of years; whether this is possible we know not. But even now they +are hard to discover, until the eye has become used to the search. But +when it has,--especially with the use of a glass at first,--they become +perceptible enough, words, ticks, points, and all."] + +These pencil-memorandums are in some instances written in a modern +cursive hand, to which marginal readings in ink, written in an antique +hand, correspond. + +There are some pencil-memorandums to which no corresponding change in +ink has been made; and one of these is in short-hand of a system which +did not come into use until 1774.[J] + +[Footnote J: In _Coriolanus_, Act v. sc. 2, (p. 55, col. 2, of the C. +folio,) "struggles or instead noise,"--plainly a memorandum for a +stage-direction in regard to the impending fracas between Menenius and +the Guard.] + +These pencil-memorandums in some instances underlie the words in ink +which correspond to them. + +Similar modern pencil-writing, underlying in like manner antique-seeming +words in ink, has been discovered in the Bridgewater folio, (Lord +Ellesmere's,) the manuscript readings in which Mr. Collier was the first +to bring into notice. + +Some of the pencilled memorandums in the folio of 1632 seem to be +unmistakably in the handwriting of Mr. Collier.[K] + +[Footnote K: Having at hand some of Mr. Collier's own writing in pencil, +we are dependent as to this point, in regard to the pencillings in +the folio, only upon the accuracy of the fac-similes published by Mr. +Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby, which correspond in character, though made by +different fac-similists.] + +Several manuscripts, professing to be contemporary with Shakespeare, and +containing passages of interest in regard to him, or to the dramatic +affairs of his time, have been pronounced spurious by the highest +palaeographic authorities in England, and in one of them (a letter +addressed to Henslow, and bearing Marston's signature) a pencilled guide +for the ink, like those above mentioned, has been discovered. These +manuscripts were made public by Mr. Collier, who professed to have +discovered them chiefly in the Bridgewater and Dulwich collections. + +In his professed reprint of one manuscript (Mrs. Alleyn's letter) Mr. +Collier has inserted several lines relating to Shakespeare which could +not possibly have formed a part of the passage which he professes to +reprint. + +In the above enumeration we have not included the many complete and +partial erasures upon the margins of Mr. Collier's folio; because these, +although they are inconsistent with the authoritative introduction of +the manuscript readings, do not affect the question of the good faith of +the person who introduced those readings, or serve as any indication of +the period at which he did his work. But it must be confessed that +the points enumerated present a very strong, and, when regarded by +themselves, an apparently incontrovertible case against Mr. Collier and +the genuineness of the folios and the manuscripts which he has brought +to light. Combined with the evidence of his untrustworthiness, they +compel, even from us who examine the question without prejudice, the +unwilling admission that there can be no longer any doubt that he has +been concerned in bringing to public notice, under the prestige of his +name, a mass of manuscript matter of seeming antiquity and authority +much of which at least is spurious. We say, without prejudice; for +it cannot be too constantly kept in mind that the question of the +genuineness of the manuscript readings in Mr. Collier's folio--that is, +of the good faith in which they were written--has absolutely nothing +whatever to do with that of their value or authority, at least in our +judgment. Six years before the appearance of Mr. Hamilton's first letter +impeaching their genuineness, we had expressed the decided opinion that +they were "entitled to no other consideration than is due to their +intrinsic excellence";[L] and this opinion is now shared even by the +authority which gave them at first the fullest and most uncompromising +support.[M] + +[Footnote L: See _Putnam's Magazine_, October, 1853, and _Shakespeare's +Scholar_, 1854, p. 74.] + +[Footnote M: See the London _Athenaeum_ of January 8th, 1853:--"We +cannot hesitate to infer that there must have been _something more than +mere conjecture_,--some authority from which they were derived.... The +consideration of the nine omitted lines stirs up Mr. Collier to a little +greater boldness on the question of authority; but, after all, we do not +think he goes the full length which the facts would warrant." + +Compare this with the following extracts from the same journal of July +9th, 1859;--"The folio never had any ascertained external authority. +All the warrant it has ever brought to reasonable critics is internal." +"If anybody, in the heat of argument, ever claimed for them [the MS. +readings] a right of acceptance beyond the emendations of Theobald, +Malone, Dyce, and Singer, (that is, a right not justified by their +obvious utility or beauty,) such a claim must have been untenable, by +whomsoever urged."] + +Other points sought to be established against Mr. Collier and the +genuineness of his manuscript authorities must be noticed in an article +which aims at the presentation of a comprehensive view of this subject. +These are based on certain variations between Mr. Collier's statements +as to the readings of his manuscript authorities and a certain supposed +"philological" proof of the modern origin of one of those authorities, +the folio of 1632. Upon all these points the case of Mr. Collier's +accusers breaks down. It is found, for instance, that in the folio an +interpolated line in "Coriolanus," Act iii. sc. 2, reads,-- + +"To brook _controul_ without the use of anger," + +and that so Mr. Collier gave it in both editions of his "Notes and +Emendations," in his fac-similes made for private distribution, in his +vile one-volume Shakespeare, and in the "List," etc., appended to the +"Seven Lectures." But in his new edition of Shakespeare's Works (6 vols. +1858) he gives it,-- + +"To brook _reproof_ without the use of anger," + +and hereupon Dr. Ingleby asks,--"Is it not possible that here Mr. +Collier's remarkable memory is too retentive, and that, though second +thoughts may be best, first thoughts are sometimes inconveniently +remembered to the prejudice of the second?"[N] Here we see a palpable +slip of memory or of the pen, by which an old man substituted one word +for another of similar import, as many a younger man has done before +him, tortured into evidence of forgery. Such an objection is worthy of +notice only as an example of the carping, unjudicial spirit in which +this subject is treated by some of the British critics. + +[Footnote N: _The Shakespeare Fabrications_, p. 45.] + +Mr. Collier is accused at least of "inaccuracy" and "ignorance" on +account of some of these variations. Thus, in Mrs. Alleyn's Letter, she +says that a boy "would have borrowed x's." (ten shillings); and this Mr. +Collier reads "would have borrowed x'li." (ten pounds). Whereupon Mr. +Duffus Hardy, Assistant Keeper of the Public Records, produces this as +one of "the most striking" of Mr. Collier's inaccuracies in regard to +this letter, and says that it "certainly betrays no little ignorance, +as 10_l_. in those days would have equalled about 60_l_. of our present +money." "A strange youth," he adds, "calls on Mrs. Alleyn and asks the +loan of 10_l_. as coolly as he would ask for as many pence!" Let us +measure the extent of the ignorance shown by this inaccuracy, and +estimate its significance by a high standard. In one of the documents +which Mr. Collier has brought forward--an account by Sir Arthur +Mainwayring, auditor to Sir Thomas Egerton, in James I.'s reign, which +is pronounced to be a forgery, and which probably is one--is an entry +which mentions the performance of "Othello" in 1602. The second part of +this entry is,[O]-- + + "Rewards; to m'r. Lyllyes man w'ch } + brought y'e lotterye boxe to } + x's. Harefield: p m'r. Andr. Leigh." } + +[Footnote O: See the fac-simile in Dr. Ingleby's _Complete View_. p. +262.] + +Mr. Lyllye's man got ten shillings, then, for his job,--very princely +pay in those days. But Mr. Hardy[P] prints this entry,--"Rewarde to Mr. +Lillye's man, which brought the lotterye box to Harefield x'li."--ten +_pounds_!--the same sum that Mr. Collier made Mr. Chaloner's boy ask +of Mrs. Alleyn. In other words, according to Mr. Hardy, Sir Arthur +Mainwayring gave a serving-man, for carrying a box, ten pounds as coolly +as he would have given as many pence! Now, Mr. Hardy, "as 10_l_. in +those days would have equalled about 60_l_. of our present money," on +your honor and your palaeographical reputation, does it betray "no +little ignorance" to mistake, or, if you please, to misprint, 10's. for +ten 10'li.? If no, so much the better for poor Mr. Collier; but if ay, +is not the Department of Public Records likely to come to grief?[Q] + +[Footnote P: _A Review_, etc., p. 60.] + +[Footnote Q: We could point out numerous other similar failures and +errors in the publications in which Mr. Collier is attacked; but we +cannot spare time or space for these petty side-issues.] + +A very strong point has been made upon the alteration of "so eloquent as +a _chair_" to "so eloquent as a _cheer_" in Mr. Collier's folio. It is +maintained by Mr. Arthur Edmund Brae, and by Dr. Ingleby, that "cheer" +as a shout of "admirative applause" did not come into use until +the latter part of the last century. This is the much vaunted +philologico-chronological proof that the manuscript readings in that +folio are of very recent origin. Dr. Ingleby devotes twenty pages to +this single topic. Never was labor more entirely wasted. For the +result of it all is the establishment of these facts in regard to +"cheer":--that shouts of encouragement and applause were called "cheers" +as early, at least, as 1675, and that in the middle of the century +1500, if not before, "to cheer" meant to utter an audible expression of +applause. The first appears from the frequent use of the noun in the +Diary of Henry Teonge, a British Navy Chaplain, dated 1675-1679, by +which it appears that "three cheers" were given then, just as they are +now; the second, from a passage in Phaer's Translation of the "Aeneid," +published in 1558, in which "_Excipiunt plausu pavidos_" is rendered +"The Trojans them did _chere_." And now will it be believed that +an LL.D. of Trinity College, Cambridge, and a professed student of +Shakespeare, seeks to avoid the force of these facts by pleading, that, +although Teonge speaks of "three cheers," it does not follow that there +was such a thing known in his day as a cheer; that "three cheers" was +a recognized phrase for a certain naval salute; and that "to confound +_three cheers_ with _a cheer_ would be as ignorant a proceeding as +to confound the phrases 'manning the yards' and 'manning a +yard'"?--Exactly, Dr. Ingleby,--just as ignorant; but three times one +are three; and when one yard is manned the sailors have manned a yard, +and while they are a-doing it they are manning a yard. What did the +people call one-third of their salute in 1675? And are we to suppose +that they were never led to give "one more" cheer, as they do nowadays? +And have the LL.D.s of Cambridge--old Cambridge--yet to learn that the +compound always implies the preëxistence of the simple, and that "a +cheer" is, by logical necessity, the antecedent of "three cheers"? +Can they fail to see, too, as "cheer" meant originally face, then +countenance, then comfort, encouragement, that, before it could be used +as a verb to mean the _expression_ of applause, it must have previously +been used as a noun to mean applause? And finally, has an intelligent +and learned student of Shakespeare read him so imperceptively as not to +know, that, if "cheer," or any other word, had been used in his time +only as a verb, he would not have hesitated a moment about using it as a +noun, if it suited his purpose to do so? That the original text in the +passage in question, "so eloquent as a chair," is correct, we have no +doubt; but the attempt to make the introduction of "cheer" into Mr. +Collier's folio a chronological test of the good faith of its MS. +readings has failed entirely. + +But Mr. Collier's accusers fall short of their aim upon other and no +less important points. It seems more than doubtful that the spuriousness +of all the marginal readings in the notorious folio and all the +documents brought forward by Mr. Collier has been established. Under +ordinary circumstances, when palaeographers like Sir Frederic Madden, +Sir Francis Palgrave, and Mr. Duffus Hardy, tell us that a manuscript, +professing to be ancient and original, is a modern fabrication, we +submit at once. A judgment pronounced by such experts commands the +unquestioning deference of laymen; unless, indeed, the doctors differ; +and then the humblest and most ignorant of us all must endeavor +to decide between them. And when a court, under extraordinary +circumstances,--and those of the present case are very extraordinary,-- +not only pronounces judgment, but feels compelled to assign the reasons +for that judgment, thinking men who are interested in the question under +consideration will examine the evidence and weigh the arguments for +themselves. + +In the present case reasons have been given by Sir Frederic Madden, Mr. +Hardy, and Dr. Ingleby, the chief-justice and two puisne judges of our +court. The first says, (in his letter of March 24th, 1860, to the London +"Critic,") that, on examining the folio with Mr. Bond, the Assistant +Keeper of his Department, they were both "struck with the very +suspicious character of the writing,"--certainly the work of one hand, +but presenting varieties of forms assignable to different periods,--the +evident painting of the letters, and the artificial look of the ink. + +Mr. Hardy speaks more explicitly to the same purpose; and we must quote +him at some length. He says,-- + +"The handwriting of the notes and alterations in the Devonshire folio +[Mr. Collier's] is of a mixed character, varying even in the same page, +from the stiff, labored Gothic hand of the sixteenth century to the +round text-hand of the nineteenth, a fact most perceptible in the +capital letters. It bears unequivocal marks also of laborious imitation +throughout. + +"In their broader characteristics, the features of the handwriting of +this country, from the time of the Reformation, may be arranged under +four epochs, sufficiently distinct to elucidate our argument:-- + +"1. The stiff upright Gothic of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. + +"2. The same, inclining and less stiff, as a greater amount of +correspondence demanded an easier style of writing, under Elizabeth. + +"3. The cursive, based on an Italian model, (the Gothic becoming more +flexible and now rapidly disappearing,) in the reign of James I., and +continuing in use for about a century. + +"4. The round hand of the schoolmaster, under the House of Hanover, +degenerating into the careless, half-formed hands of the present day. + +"Now it is perfectly possible that any two of these hands in succession +may have been practised by the same person.... That the first and third +or the second and fourth should be coexistent is very improbable. That +all, or that the first, second, and fourth, should be found together, as +belonging to one and the same era, we hold to be utterly impossible. + +"Yet this is a difficulty that Mr. Collier has to explain; as the +handwritings of the MS. corrections in the Devonshire folio, including +those in pencil, vary as already said, from the stiff, upright, +labored, and earlier Gothic, to the round text-hand of the nineteenth +century."[R] + +[Footnote R: A _Review_, etc., pp. 6, 7.] + +On this point Dr. Ingleby says, succinctly and decidedly, "The primal +evidence of the forgery lies in the ink writing, and in that alone";[S] +but he expressly bases this dictum upon the decisions of the professed +palaeographers of the British Museum and the Record Office. He goes on, +however, to assign important collateral proof of the forgery, both of +the readings in the folio and the documents brought forward by Mr. +Collier, by connecting them with each other. Thus he says, that whoever +will compare the fac-similes of the document known as "The Certificate +of the Blackfriars Players" with those which he gives of two passages in +the folio "will surely entertain no doubt that one hand wrote both."[T] +He expresses also the same confidence that "there can be but one +intelligent opinion" that another important document, known as "The +Blackfriars Petition," was, as Mr. Hamilton believes, "executed by the +same hand" as that to which we owe the Certificate, and, consequently, +the folio readings.[U] Again, with regard to another of these documents, +known as "The Daborne Warrant," Dr. Ingleby says,--"Mr. Hamilton +remarks, what must be plain to every one who compares the fac-simile +of the Daborne Warrant with those of the manuscript emendations in the +Perkins folio, that the same hand wrote both. In particular the +letters E, S, J, and C are formed in the same peculiar pseudo-antique +manner."[V] And finally, Mr. Hamilton decides, and Dr. Ingleby concurs +with him, that a certain List of Players appended to a letter from the +Council to the Lord Mayor, in which Shakespeare's name stands third, is +"done by the same hand" which produced the professed contemporary copy +of a letter signed H.S. about Burbage and Shakespeare, supposed to be +from the Earl of Southampton. Giving his reason for this opinion, Dr. +Ingleby says,--"Among other similarities in the forms of the letters +to those characterizing the H.S. letter, is the very remarkable _g_ in +'Hemminges'."[W] + +[Footnote S: A _Complete View_, p. 114.] + +[Footnote T: _Ib._ p. 250.] + +[Footnote U: _Ib._ p. 293.] + +[Footnote V: _Ib._ p. 256.] + +[Footnote W: _Ib._ p. 271.] + +Let us examine the alleged grounds of these decisions,--"the varieties +of forms assignable to different periods," and the extension of those +varieties "from the stiff, labored Gothic hand of the sixteenth century +to the round-text hand of the nineteenth." This judgment is passed upon +_all_ the writing on the margins of the folio, including the pencil +memorandums. For the present we shall set aside the latter,--the pencil +memorandums,--as not properly belonging to this branch of the subject. +For this pencil writing, although it has a most important bearing +upon the question of the good faith of the marginal readings, has no +professed character, antique or modern: it is, of course, not set forth +directly or indirectly, either by the unknown writer of the marginalia, +or by Mr. Collier, as evidence of the date at which they were made. And +as, according to Dr. Ingleby, "the primal evidence of the forgery lies +in the ink writing, and in that alone," with that alone we shall at +present concern ourselves. As the careless, half-formed hand of the +present day, degenerate from "the round hand of the school-master," +appears only in the pencil writing, we have therefore to deal but with +the first three styles of writing enumerated by Mr. Hardy; and as he +himself admits that "it is perfectly possible that any two of these +hands in succession may have been practised by the same person," if +those who maintain the side of forgery fail to show that "the stiff +upright Gothic of Henry VIII. and Edward VI." appears upon the margins +of this folio, we shall only have the second and third styles enumerated +by Mr. Hardy, i.e., the hands of Elizabeth and James I., to take into +consideration; and the so-called "primal evidence of the forgery," in +the "varieties of forms assignable to different periods," falls to the +ground. + +Now it is most remarkable, that, among all the numerous fac-similes +of the writing in this volume which have been published either by Mr. +Collier himself, or by his opponents, with the very purpose of proving +the forgery, not a word or a letter has appeared in a hand which was not +in common use from the latest years of Elizabeth's reign, through James +I.'s and Charles I.'s, down through the Commonwealth to and well past +the time of the Restoration,--a period, be it remembered, of only +between fifty and seventy-five years. We are prepared to show, upon +the backs of title-pages and upon the margins of various books printed +between 1580 and 1660, and in copy-books published and miscellaneous +documents dated between 1650 and 1675, writing as ancient in all its +characteristics as any that has been fac-similed and published with the +purpose of invalidating the genuineness of the marginal readings of Mr. +Collier's folio. + +We are also prepared to show that the lack of homogeneousness (aside +from the question of period or fashion) and the striking and various +appearance of the ink even on a single page, which have been relied upon +as strong points against the genuineness of the marginal readings, are +matters of little moment, because they are not evidence either of an +assumed hand or of simulated antiquity; and even further, that the fact +that certain of the pencilled words are in a much more modern-seeming +hand than the words in ink which overlie them is of equally small +importance in the consideration of this question. Our means of +comparison in regard to the folio are limited, indeed, but they are none +the less sufficient; for we may be sure that Mr. Collier's opponents, +who have followed his tracks page by page with microscopes and chemical +tests, who hang their case upon pot-hooks and trammels, and lash +themselves into palaeographic fury with the tails of remarkable _g_-s, +have certainly made public the strongest evidence against him that they +could discover. + +Among many old books, defaced after the fashion of old times with +writing upon their blank leaves and spaces, in the possession of the +present writer, is a copy of the second edition of Bartholomew Young's +translation of Guazzo's "Civile Conversation," London, 4to., 1586. This +volume was published without that running marginal abstract of the +contents which is so common upon the books of its period. This omission +an early possessor undertook to supply; and in doing so he left evidence +which forbids us to accept all the conclusions as to the Collier folio +and manuscripts which the British palaeographists draw from the premises +which they set forth. Upon the very first page of the Preface he writes, +in explanation of the phrase "hee which fired the temple of Diana," the +name "_Erostrato_" in a manner which brings to mind one point strongly +made by Dr. Ingleby against the genuineness of a Ralegh letter brought +forward by Mr. Collier, as well as of the manuscript readings in the two +folio Shakespeares, which he also brought to light. Dr. Ingleby says, +"I have given a copy of Mr. Collier's fac-simile in sheet No. II., +and alongside of that I have placed the impossible E in the Ralegh +signature, and the almost exactly similar E which occurs in the +emendation _End, vice_ 'And,' in the Bridgewater Folio. By means of this +monstrous letter we are enabled to trace the chain of forgery from the +Perkins Folio through the Bridgewater Folio, to the perpetration of the +abomination at the foot of the Ralegh letter."[X] + +[Footnote X: _Complete View_, p. 309.] + +Below we give fac-similes of six E-s. No. I is from the margin of the +first page of the Preface to Guazzo, mentioned above; No. 2 from the +third, and No. 3 from the fifth page of the same Preface; No. 4 from +fol. 27 _b_ of the body of the work; No. 5 is the "monstrous letter" +of the Bridgewater folio; and No. 6 the "impossible E" of the Ralegh +signature. + +[Illustration] + +Now how monstrous the last two letters are is a matter of taste,--how +impossible, a matter of knowledge; but we submit that any man with a +passable degree of either taste or knowledge is able to decide, and +will decide that No. 6 is not more impossible than No. 1, or No. 4 more +monstrous than No. 2; while in Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4, there is exhibited a +variation in the form of capital letters, instances of which Dr. Ingleby +intimates it is impossible to find in genuine handwriting, and the +existence of which in the Collier folio Mr. Hamilton sets forth as one +reason for invalidating the good faith of its marginal readings.[Y] + +[Footnote Y: Inquiry, p. 23.] + +But our copy of Guazzo is of further use to us in the examination of +this subject. It exhibits, within less than one hundred folios of +marginal annotations, almost all the characteristics (except, be it +remembered, those of the pencil writing) which are relied upon as proofs +of the forgery of the marginalia of Mr. Collier's folio. The writing +varies from a cursive hand which might almost have been written at the +present day to (in Mr. Duffus Hardy's phrase) "the cursive based on an +Italian model,"--that is, the "sweet Roman hand" which the Countess +Olivia wrote, as became a young woman of fashion when "Twelfth Night" +was produced; and from this again to the modified chancery hand which +was in such common use in the first half of the century 1600, and again +to a cramped and contracted chirography almost illegible, which went out +of general use in the last years of Elizabeth and the first of James I. +All these varieties of handwriting, except the last, were in use from +1600 to the Restoration. They will be found in the second edition of +Richard Gethinge's "Calligraphotechnia, or The Arte of Faire Writing, +1652." This, in spite of its sounding name, is nothing more than a +writing-master's copper-plate copy-book; and its republication in +1652, with these various styles of chirography, is important accessory +evidence in the present case.[Z] + +[Footnote Z: Lowndes mentions no other edition than that of 1652; and +Mr. Bohn in his new edition of the Bibliographer has merely repeated the +original in this respect. But if Lowndes had seen only the edition of +1652, he might have found in it evidence of the date of the publication +of the book. It is dedicated to "Sir Francis Bacon Knight, his Ma'ties +Attorney Generall"; and as Bacon was made Attorney General in 1613 and +Lord Keeper in 1617, the book must have been published between those +dates; and one of the plates, the 18th, is dated "Anno 1615," and +another, the 24th, "1616."] + +But to return to the margins of our Guazzo, from five pages of which we +here give fac-similes. + +[Illustration] + +The writer of the annotations began his work in that clear Italian hand +which came into vogue in the reign of James I., (see, for instance, +Gethinge, Plates 18 to 28,) of which fac-simile No. 1, "_Experience of +father_" is an example. In the course of the first few pages, however, +his chirography, on the one hand, shows traces of the old English +chancery-hand, and, on the other, degenerates into a careless, cursive, +modern-seeming style, of which fac-simile No. 2, "_England_," is a +striking instance. But he soon corrects himself, and writes for twenty +folios (to the recto of folio 27) with more or less care in his clear +Roman hand. Thence he begins to return rapidly, but by perceptible +degrees, to the old hand, until, on the recto of folio 31, and a page +or two before it, he writes, illegibly to most modern eyes, as in +fac-simile No. 3, "_a proverbe_." Thereafter, except upon certain rare +and isolated occasions, he never returns to his Italian hand, but +becomes more and more antique in his style, so that on folio 65, and for +ten folios before and after, we have such writing as that of fac-simile +No. 4, "_strangers where they come change the speech there used_." On +folios 93 to 95 we find characters like those given in fac-simile No. 5, +which it requires more experience than ours in record-reading entirely +to decipher. On the reverse of folio 95 the annotator, apparently weary +of his task, stayed his hand. + +Now in these ninety-nine folios (including the Preface, which is not +numbered) are not only all the five varieties of chirography fac-similed +above, but others partaking the character of some two of these, and +all manifestly written by the same hand; which is shown no less by the +phraseology than by the chirographic traits common to all the notes. And +besides, not a few of these notes, which fill the margins, are in +Latin, and these Latin notes are always written in the Italian hand of +fac-simile No. 1; so that we find that hand, in which all the notes, +English and Latin, (with a few exceptions, like "_England_,") are +written for the first twenty-seven folios, afterward in juxtaposition +with each of the other hands. For instance, on folio 87, recto, we find +"_tolerare laborem propter virtutem quis vult si praemia desunt_," +written in the style of "_Experience_" No. 1 above, though not so +carefully, and immediately beneath it, manifestly with the same pen, and +it would seem with the same pen-full of ink, "the saying of Galen," in +the style of No. 4, "_strangers where they come_," etc. + +The ink, too, in which these notes are written illustrates the shifts to +which our ancestors were put when writing-materials were not made and +bought by the quantity, as they are now,--a fact which bears against +a not yet well-established point made by Mr. Maskelyne of the British +Museum against Mr. Collier's marginalia. This writing exhibits every +possible variety of tint and of shade, and also of consistence and +composition, that ink called black could show. As far as the recto of +folio 12 it has the look of black ink slightly faded. On the reverse of +that folio it suddenly assumes a pale gray tint, which it preserves to +the recto of folio 20. There it becomes of a very dark rich brown, so +smooth in surface as almost to have a lustre, but in the course of a few +folios it changes to a pale tawny tint; again back to black, again +to gray, again to a fine clear black that might have been written +yesterday, and again to the pale tawny, with which it ends. It is also +worthy of notice, that, where this ink has the dark rich brown hue, it +also seems, in the words of Professor Maskelyne, in his letter to the +London "Times," dated July 13, 1859, to be "on rather than in the +paper"; and it also proved in this instance, to use the phraseology of +the same letter, to be "removable, with the exception of a slight stain, +by mere water." But who will draw hence the conclusion of the Professor +with regard to the fluid used on the Collier folio, that it is "a +water-color paint rather than ink,"--unless "ink" is used in a mere +technical sense, to mean only a compound of nutgalls and sulphate of +iron?[aa] + +[Footnote aa: The effect produced upon the brown ink on the margins of +the Guazzo by the mere washing it for a few seconds with lint and warm +water may be seen in the word "_apollegy_" on folio 25, reverse, of that +volume, which, with the others noticed in this article, will be left +for inspection at the Astor Library, in the care of Dr. Cogswell, for a +fortnight after the publication of this number of the _Atlantic_. This +slight ablution, hardly more effective than the rubbing of a child's wet +finger, leaves only a pale yellow stain upon the paper.] + +Now it should be observed, that, among all the fac-similes published of +the marginal readings in Mr. Collier's folio, there are none either +so modern or so antique in their character as the five fac-similes +respectively given above; nor is there in the former a variation of +style approaching that exhibited in the latter, which all surely +represent the work of one hand. Neither do the fac-similes of the folio +corrections exhibit any chirography more ancient, more "Gothic," than +that of the account a specimen of which was published in our previous +article upon this subject,[bb] and which could not have been written +before 1656, and was quite surely not written until ten years later. + +[Footnote bb: See the _Atlantic_ for October, 1859, p. 516.] + + * * * * * + +We have thus far left out of consideration the faint pencil-memorandums +which play so important a part in the history of Mr. Collier's folio. +We now examine one of their bearings upon the question at issue. Is it +possible that they, or any considerable proportion of them, may be +the traces of pencil-marks made in the century 1600? The very great +importance of this question need not be pointed out. It was first +indicated in this magazine in October, 1859. Mr. Collier has seen it, +and, not speaking with certainty as to the use of plumbago pencils at +that period, he says,--"But if it be true that pencils of plumbago were +at that time in common use, as I believe they were, the old corrector +may himself have now and then adopted this mode of recording on the +spot changes which, in his judgment, ought hereafter [thereafter?] +permanently to be made in Shakespeare's text."[cc] + +[Footnote cc: _Reply_, p. 20.] + +Another volume in the possession of the present writer affords +satisfactory evidence that these pencil-marks may be memorandums made in +the latter half of the century 1600. It is a copy of "The Historie of +the Life and Death of Mary Stuart Queene of Scotland," London, 1636,--a +small, narrow duodecimo, in the original binding. Upon the first one +hundred and sixty-nine pages of this volume, within the ruled margin so +common in old books, are annotations, very brief and sparse, rarely +more than two upon a page, and often not more than one, and consisting +sometimes of only two or three abbreviated words,--all evidently written +in haste, and all entirely without interest. These annotations, or, +rather, memorandums, like those in the Guazzo, explain or illustrate the +text. At the top of the page, within the margin-rules, the annotator has +written the year during which the events there related took place; and +he has also paged the Preface. Now of these annotations _about one half +are in pencil_, the numbering entirely so, with a single exception. This +pencil-writing is manifestly the product of a period within twenty-five +or thirty years of the date of the printing of the book, and yet it +presents apparent variations in style which are especially noteworthy in +connection with our present subject. Some of this pencil-writing is +as clear as if it were freshly written; but the greater part is much +rubbed, apparently by the mere service that the volume has seen; and +some of it is so faint as to be legible only in a high, reflected light, +in which, however, to sharp eyes it becomes distinctly visible.[dd] That +ordinary black pencil-marks will endure on paper for two centuries +may very likely be doubted by many readers, but without reason. +Plumbago-marks, if not removed by rubbing, are even more durable than +ink; because plumbago is an organic, insoluble substance, not subject +to the chemical changes which moisture, the atmosphere, and fluids +accidentally spilled, and solvents purposely applied, make in the +various kinds of ink which are known to us. The writer discovered this +in the course of many amateur print- and book-cleaning experiments, and +has since found his experience confirmed by the high authority of M. +Bonnardot, in his "Essai sur l'Art de Restaurer les Estampes et les +Livres." Paris, 1858.[ee] Of the annotations in the "History of Queen +Mary," many are in a strange short-hand, in which various combinations +of simple angles, triangles, circles, semicircles, and straight lines +play a conspicuous part, which we find, upon examination, is not written +according to any system promulgated since the middle of the last +century. Our present concern is, however, only with the writing which +is in the ordinary letter, and in pencil. Of this there follow three +specimen fac-similes, including the figures indicating the Anno Domini +at the top of the page from which the words are taken. Three of the +figures (4, 7, 8) by which the Preface is paged are also added.[ff] + +[Footnote dd: Some of our readers may be glad to know that writing so +faint as to be indistinguishable even in a bright open light may be +often read in the shadow with that very light reflected upon it, as, for +instance, from the opposite page of a book.] + +[Footnote ee: Mr. Bonnardot says:--"_Taches des crayons._ (_Plombagine, +sanguine, crayon noir_, etc.) Les traces _récentes_ que laissent sur le +papier ces divers crayons s'effacent au contact du caoutchouc, ou de la +mie de pain; mais, _quand elles sont trop anciennes, elles résistent à +ces moyens;_ on a recours alors à l'application du savon, etc., etc. +On frotte, etc., etc. S'il restait, après cette opération, des traces +opiniâtres sur le papier, _il faudrait désespérer les enlever_." p. 81.] + +[Footnote ff: By a common mistake, easily understood, the fac-similes +have been put upon the block in reverse order. The lines between the +words represent the coarse column-rules of the margins. (Illustration)] + +Of these, No. 1 ("_ffer Ph: 2_") explains that "the Emperour & the King +of Spaine" of the text are Ferdinand and Philip II.; No. 2 ("_ffr: 2 +death_") directs attention to the mention of the decease of Francis II. +of France; and No. 3 ("_Dudley Q Eliz great favorite_") is apropos of +a supposition by the author of the History that the Virgin Queen "had +assigned Dudley for her own husband." Of the pencil-writing fac-similed +above, the "1559" and the "_e_" in No. 1 and the "_Dudley_" in No. 8 are +so faint as to be almost indistinguishable; the rest of it, though very +much rubbed, is plain enough to those who have good eyes. As to the +period when these annotations were written, there can be no doubt that +it was between 1636 and the end of the third quarter of that century; +yet the difference between Nos. 1 and 2 and the last line of No. 8 is +very noticeable. There are many other words in pencil in the same volume +quite as modern-looking as "_favorite_" in No. 3. Does not this make it +clear that the pencil-writing on the margins of Mr. Collier's folio, the +greater part of which is so indistinct that to most eyes it is illegible +without the aid of a magnifying-glass, and of which not a few of the +most legible words are incomplete, may be the pencil-memorandums of a +man who entered these marginal readings in the century 1600? Who shall +undertake to say that pencil-writing so faint as to have its very +existence disputed, and which is written over so as to be partially +concealed, possesses a decided modern character, when such writing +as that of "_favorite_" above exists, both in pencil and in ink, the +production of which between 1636 and 1675 it would be the merest folly +to question? The possibility of the readings having been first entered +in pencil need not be discussed. It is not only probable that they would +be so entered, but that would be the method naturally adopted by a +corrector of any prudence, who had not an authoritative copy before him; +and that this corrector had such aid not one now pretends to believe. We +shall also find, farther on, that pencil-memorandums or guides, the good +faith of which no one pretends to gainsay, were used upon this volume. A +similar use of pencil is common enough nowadays. We know some writers, +who, when correcting their own proofs, always go over them with pencil +first, and on a second reading make the corrections, often with material +changes, in ink over the pencil-marks. Even letters are, or rather were, +written in this manner by young people in remote rural districts, where +an equal scarcity of money and paper made an economy of the latter +necessary,--a fact which would have a bearing upon the pencilled Marston +letter, but for one circumstance to be noticed hereafter. + +But one point, and that apparently the strongest, made against another +of Mr. Collier's MSS., we are able to set aside entirely. It is that +alleged identity of origin between the List of Players appended to the +letter from the Council to the Lord Mayor of London and the well-known +"Southampton" letter signed H.S., which is based upon an imagined +general similarity of hand and a positive identity of form in a certain +"very remarkable _g_" which is found in both.[gg] The general similarity +seems to us sheerly imaginary; but the _g_ common to the two documents +is undoubtedly somewhat unusual in form. That it is not peculiar to the +documents in question, however, whether they were written by one hand or +two, we happen to be in a position to show. _Ecce signum!_ + +[Footnote gg: See above, p. 266.] + +[Illustration] + +No. 1 of the above fac-similes is the _g_ of the H.S. letter, No. 2 the +_g_ of the List of Players, and in the name below is a _g_ of exactly +the same model. This name is written upon the last page of "The Table" +of a copy of Guevara's "Chronicle conteyning the lives of tenne +Emperours of Rome," translated by Edward Hellowes, London, 1577. This +book is bound up in ancient binding with copies of the "Familiar +Epistles" of the same writer, Englished by the same translator, 1582, +and of his "Familiar Epistles," translated by Geffrey Fenton, 1582. +The volume is defaced by little writing besides the names of three +possessors whose hands it passed through piecemeal or as a whole; but it +is remarkable, that, while one possessor has written on the first title +in ink the price which he paid for it, "_pr. 2s. 6d._," in a handwriting +like that of "_proverbe_" in the third fac-simile from Guazzo, on p. 268 +above, another has recorded _in pencil_ on the next leaf the amount it +cost him, "pr: 5s.," in a hand of perhaps somewhat later date, more in +the style of the fac-similes from the "Life of Queen Mary," on p. 271. +This pencil memorandum is very plain.[hh] It is worthy of special note +also, that one of the owners of this volume, a Simon Holdip, writes on +the last page of the "Lives of the Ten Emperors," the last in order +of binding, "_per me Simone Holdip in te domine speravi_" in the old +so-called chancery-hand, while on the first page of the Dedication +of the "Familiar Epistles," the first in order of binding, he writes +"_Simon Holdip est verus possessor hujus libri_," in as fair an Italian +hand as Richard Gethinge or the Countess Olivia herself could show. This +evidence of property a subsequent owner has stricken through many times +with his pen. In this volume we not only find the "remarkable _g_," the +tail of which is relied upon as a link in the chain of evidence to prove +the forgery of two documents, but yet another instance of the use of +dissimilar styles of writing by the same individual two hundred or two +hundred and fifty years ago, and also a well-preserved pencil memorandum +of the same period.[ii] But we have by no means disposed of all of this +question as to the pencil-writing, and we shall revert to it. + +[Footnote hh: It probably records the price paid by the buyer of the +whole volume at second-hand in the first part of the century 1600. +The first memorandum is quite surely the price paid for the _Familiar +Epistles_ alone; for on the binding of the three books into one volume, +which took place at an early date, the tops of the capital letters of +this possessor's name were slightly cut down.] + +[Footnote ii: Similar evidence must abound; and perhaps there is more +even within the reach of the writer of this article. For he has made +no particular search for it; but merely, after reading Dr. Ingleby's +_Complete View_, looked somewhat hastily through those of his old books +which, according to his recollection, contained old writing,--which, by +the way, has always recommended an antique volume to his attention.] + +That the writing of the "Certificate of the Blackfriars Players," the +"Blackfriars Petition," and the marginal readings in Mr. Collier's folio +shows that they are by the same hand we cannot see. Their chirography is +alike, it is true, but it is not the same. Such likeness is often to +be seen. The capital letters are formed on different models; and the +variation in the _f-s, s-s, d-s_, and _y-s_ is very noticeable. + + * * * * * + +We now turn to another, and, to say the least, not inferior department +of the evidence in this complicated case. Mr. Hamilton has done yeoman's +service by his collation and publication of all the manuscript readings +found on the margins of "Hamlet" in Mr. Collier's folio. It is by far +the most important part of his "Inquiry." It fixes indelibly the stigma +of entire untrustworthiness upon Mr. Collier, by showing, that, when he +professed, after many examinations, to give a list of all the marginal +readings in that folio, he did not, in this play at least, give much +more than one-third of them, and that some of those which he omitted +were even more striking than those which he published. We must be as +brief as possible; and we shall therefore bring forward but one example +of these multitudinous sins against truth; and one is as fatal as a +dozen. In the last scene of the play, Horatio's last speech (spoken, it +will be remembered, after the death of the principal characters and the +entrance of Fortinbras) is correctly as follows, according to the text +both of the folios and the quartos:-- + + "Of that I shall have also cause to speak; + And from his mouth, whose voice will draw on more: + But let this same be presently perform'd, + Even while men's minds are wild, lest more mischance, + On plots and errors, happen." + +But in Mr. Collier's folio it is "corrected" after this astounding +fashion:-- + + "Of that I shall have also cause to speak, + And from his mouth, whose voice shall draw on more. + But let this _scene_ be presently perform'd, + _While I remaine behind to tell a tale + That shall hereafter turn the hearers pale_." + +Now, while Mr. Collier publishes the specious change of "this same" to +"this _scene_" he entirely passes over the substitution of two whole +lines immediately below. And who needs to be told why? Mr. Collier could +have the face and the folly to bring forward other priceless additions +of whole lines, even, in "Henry VI,"-- + + "My staff! Here, noble Henry, is my staff: + _To think I fain would keep it makes me + laugh_,"-- + +but he had judgment enough to see, that, if it were known that his +corrector had foisted the two lines in Italic letter above into the most +solemn scene in "Hamlet," the whole round world would ring with scornful +laughter. This collation of "Hamlet" has not only extinguished Mr. +Collier as a man of veracity, but it has given the _coup de grace_ to +any pretence of deference due to these marginal readings on any score. +But it has done something else. It has brought facts to light which in +themselves are inconsistent with the supposition that Mr. Collier or any +other man forged all these marginal readings,--that is, wrote them in +a pretended antique character,--and which, taken in connection with +the evidence that we have already examined, settles this part of the +question forever. + +The number of marginal alterations in this play, according to Dr. +Ingleby's count, which we believe is correct, is four hundred and +twenty-six. Now for how many of this number does the reader suppose +that the sharp eyes and the microscopes of the British Museum and its +unofficial aids have discovered the relics of pencil memorandums? +Exactly ten,--as any one may see by examining Mr. Hamilton's collation. +Of these ten, three are for punctuation,--the substitution of a period +for a semicolon, the introduction of three commas, and the substitution +of an interrogation point for a comma; the punctuation being of not the +slightest service in either case, as the sense is as clear as noonday +in all. Two are for the introduction of stage-directions in Act I., +Sc. 3,--"_Chambers_," and, on the entrance of the Ghost, "_armed as +before_"; neither of which, again, added anything to the knowledge of +the modern reader. This leaves but five pencil memorandums of changes in +the text; and they, with two exceptions, are the mere adding of letters +not necessary to the sense. + +Of these four hundred and twenty-six marginal changes, a very large +proportion, quite one-half, and we should think more, are mere +insignificant literal changes or additions, such as an editor in +supervising manuscript, or an author in reading proof, passes over, and +leaves to the proof-readers of the printing-office, by whom they are +called "literals," we believe. Such are the change of "_Whon_ yond +same starre" to "_When_ yond," etc.; "_Looke_ it not like the king" to +"_Lookes_ it," etc.; "He _smot_ the sledded Polax" to "He _smote_," +etc.; "_Heaven_ will direct it" to "_Heavens_ will," etc.; "list, +_Hamle_, list," to "list, _Hamlet_, list"; "the _Mornings_ Ayre" to +"the _Morning_ Ayre"; "My Liege and _Madrm_" to "My Liege and _Madam_"; +"_locke_ of Wit" to "_lacke_ of Wit"; "both our _judgement_ joyne" +to "both our _judgements_ joyne"; "my _convseration_" to "my +_conversation_"; "the _strucken_ Deere" to "the _stricken_ Deere"; +"_Requit_ him for your Father" to "_Requite_ him," etc.; "I'll _anoiot_ +my sword" to "I'll _anoint_" etc.; "the _gringding_ of the Axe" to "the +_grinding_" etc. To corrections like these the alleged forger must +have devoted more than half his time; and if the thirty-one pages that +"Hamlet" fills in the folio furnish us a fair sample of the whole of +the forger's labors,[jj] we have the enormous sum of six thousand four +hundred, and over, of such utterly useless changes upon the nine hundred +pages of that volume. Such another laborious scoundrel, who labored for +the labor's sake, the world surely never saw! + +[Footnote jj: Dr. Ingleby says,--"The collations of that single play are +a perfect picture of the contents of the original, and a just sample of +the other plays in that volume."--_Complete View_, p. 131.] + +But among these marginal changes in "Hamlet," a large number present +a very striking and significant peculiarity,--a peculiarity which was +noticed in our previous article as characterizing other marginal changes +in the same volume, and which it is impossible to reconcile with the +purpose of a forger who knew enough to make the body of the corrections +on these margins, and who meant to obtain authority for them as being, +in the words of Mr. Collier, "Early Manuscript Corrections in the Folio +of 1632." That peculiarity is a _modernization of the text absolutely +fatal to the "early" pretensions of the readings;_ and it appears in the +regulation of the loose spelling prevalent at the publication of this +folio, and for many years after, by the standard of the more regular +and approximately analogous fashion of a later period, and also in the +establishment of grammatical concords, which, entirely disregarded in +the former period, were observed by well-educated people in the latter. + +Thus we find "He _smot_" changed to "He _smote_"; "Some _sayes_" to +"Some _say_"; "_veyled_ lids" to "_vayled_ lids"; "_Seemes_ to me all +the uses" to "_Seem_ to me all the uses"; "It lifted up _it_ head" to +"It lifted up _its_ head"; "_dreins_ his draughts" to "_drains_ his +draughts"; "fast in _fiers_" to "fast in _fires_"; "a _vild_ phrase, +beautified is a _vild_ phrase," to "a _vile_ phrase, beautified is a +_vile_ phrase"; "How in my words _somever_ she be shent" to "How in my +words _soever_," etc.; "_currants_ of this world" to "_currents_," etc.; +"theres _matters_" to "theres _matter_"; "like some _oare_" to "like +some _ore_"; "this _vilde_ deed" to "this _vile_ deed"; "a sword +_unbaited_" to "a sword _unbated_"; "a _stoape_ liquor" to "a _stoop_ +liquor"; and "the _stopes_ of wine" to "the _stoopes_ of wine." Of +corrections like these we have discovered twenty-eight among the +collations of "Hamlet" alone, and there are probably more. We may safely +assume that in this respect "Hamlet" fairly represents the other plays +in Mr. Collier's folio; for we have not only Dr. Ingleby's assurance +that it is a "just sample" of the volume, but in the four octavo sheets +of fac-similes privately printed by Mr. Collier we find these instances +of like corrections: "_Betide_ to any creature" to "_Betid_," etc.; +"_Wreaking_ as little" to "_Wrecking_ as little"; "painted _cloathes_" +to "painted _clothes_"; "words that _shakes_" to "words that _shake_." +Twenty-eight such corrections for the thirty-one pages of "Hamlet" give +us about eight hundred and fifty for the nine hundred pages of the whole +volume,--eight hundred and fifty instances in which the alleged forger, +who wished to obtain for his supposed fabrication the consideration due +to antiquity, modernized the text, though he obtained thereby only a +change of form, and not a single new reading, in any sense of the term! + +We turn to kindred evidence in the stage-directions. In "Love's Labor's +Lost," Act IV., Sc. 3, when Birone conceals himself from the King, the +stage-direction in the folio of 1632, as well as in that of 1623, is +"_He stands aside_." But in Mr. Collier's folio of 1632 this is changed +to "_He climbs a tree_," and he is afterward directed to speak "_in the +tree_." So again in "Much Ado about Nothing," Act II., Sc. 3, there is a +MS. stage-direction to the effect that Benedick, when he hides "in the +arbour," "_Retires behind the trees_." Now as this use of scenery +did not obtain until after the Restoration, these stage-directions +manifestly could not have been written until after that period. Upon +this point--which was first made in "Putnam's Magazine" for October, +1853, in the article "The Text of Shakespeare: Mr. Collier's Corrected +Folio of 1632,"--Mr. Halliwell says (fol. Shak. Vol. IV. p. 340) that +the writer of that article "fairly adduces these MS. directions as +incontestable evidences of the late period of the writing in that +volume, 'practicable' trees certainly not having been introduced on the +English stage until after the Restoration." See, too, in the following +passage from "The Noble Stranger," by Lewis Sharpe, London, 1640, direct +evidence as to the stage customs in London, eight years after the +publication of Mr. Collier's folio, in situations like those of Birone +and Benedick:-- + + "I am resolv'd, I over- + Heard them in the presence appoynt to walke + Here in the garden: now in _yon thicket + I'll stay_," etc. + + "_Exit behind the Arras_." + +But no man in the world knows the ancient customs of the English stage +better than Mr. Collier,--we may even say, so well, and pay no undue +compliment to the historian of that stage;[kk] and though he might +easily, in the eagerness of discovery, overlook the bearing of such +stage-directions as those in question, will it be believed, by any one +not brimful of blinding prejudice, that, in attempting the imposition +with which he is charged, and in forging in a copy of the folio of 1632 +notes and emendations for which he claimed deference because they were, +in his own words, "in a handwriting not much later than the time when it +came from the press," he deliberately wrote in these stage-directions, +which in any case added nothing to the reader's information, and which +he, of all men, knew would prove that his volume was not entitled to the +credit he was laboring to obtain for it? + +[Footnote kk: _The History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of +Shakespeare: and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration_. By J. Payne +Collier, Esq., F.S.A. 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1831.] + +Again, Mr. Hamilton's collations of "Hamlet" show that no less than +thirty-six passages have been erased from that play in this folio. These +erased passages are from a few insignificant words to fifty lines in +extent They include lines like these in Act I., Sc. 2:-- + + "With one auspicious and one dropping eye, + With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in + marriage,"-- + +and these from the same scene:-- + + "It shows a will most incorrect to heaven; + A heart unfortified, or mind impatient; + An understanding simple and unschool'd: + For what we know must be, and is as common + As any the most vulgar thing to sense, + Why should we, in our peevish opposition, + Take it to heart? Fie! 't is a fault to heaven, + A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, + To reason most absurd; whose common theme + Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, + From the first corse, till he that died to-day, + This must be so." + +In the last scene, all after Horatio's speech; "Now cracks a noble +heart," etc., is struck out. Who will believe that any man in his +senses, making corrections for which he meant to claim the deference +due to a higher authority than the printed test, would make such and so +numerous erasures? In fact, no one does so believe. + +But the collations of "Hamlet" furnish in these erasures one other very +important piece of evidence. In Act II., Sc. 1, the passage from and +including Reynaldo's speech, "As gaming, my Lord," to his other speech, +"Ay, my Lord, I would know that," is crossed out. But the lines are not +only crossed through in ink, they are "also marked in pencil." Now it +is confessed by the accusers of Mr. Collier that these erasures are the +marks of an ancient adaptation of the text to stage purposes, which were +made before the marginal corrections of the text; otherwise they must +needs have maintained the preposterous position just above set forth. +And besides, it is admitted, that, in the numerous passages which are +both erased and corrected, the work itself shows that the corrections +were made upon the erasures, and not the erasures upon the corrections. +We have, therefore, here, upon the very pages of this folio, evidence +that alterations in pencil not only might have been, but were, made upon +it at an early period, even in regard to so very slight a matter as the +crossing out of fourteen lines; and that these pencilled lines served as +a guide for the subsequent permanent erasure in ink. + +And this collation of "Hamlet" also enables us to decide with +approximate certainty upon the period when these manuscript readings +were entered upon the margins of the folio. Not more surely did the +lacking aspirate betray the Ephraimite at Jordan than the spelling of +this manuscript corrector reveals the period at which he performed his +labors. Take, for instance, the word "vile." Any man who could make the +body of these corrections knows that the most common spelling of "vile" +down to the middle of the century 1600 was _vild_ or _vilde_. This +spelling has even been retained in the text by some editors, and with at +least a semblance of reason, as being not a mere variation in spelling, +but as representing a different form of the word. No man knows all this +better than Mr. Collier; and yet we are called upon to believe that he, +meaning to obtain authoritative position for the marginal readings in +this folio, by making them appear to have been written by a contemporary +of Shakespeare's later years, altered _vild_ to _vile_ in three passages +of a single play, though he thereby made not the slightest shade of +difference in the meaning of the passage! And the same demand is made +upon our credulity in regard to the eight hundred and fifty similar +instances! Sir Frederic Madden, Mr. Duffus Hardy, Mr. Hamilton, +Dr. Ingleby, accomplished palaeographers, keen-eyed, remorseless +investigators, learned doctors though you be, you cannot make men who +have common sense believe this. Your tests, your sharp eyes, and your +optical aids, even that dreadful "microscope bearing the imposing and +scientific name of the Simonides Uranius," which carried such terror to +the heart of Mr. Collier, will fail to convince the world that he spent +hour after hour and day after day in labors the only purpose of which +was directly at war with that which you attribute to him, and which, if +he made these manuscript corrections, must have been the motive of his +labors. + +But if Mr. Collier, or some other man of this century, did not make +these orthographical changes, when were they made? Let us trace the +fortunes of _vile_, which is a good test word, as being characteristic, +and as it occurs several times in "Hamlet," and is there thrice +modernized by the manuscript corrector. It occurs five times in that +play, as the reader may see by referring to Mrs. Clarke's "Concordance." +In the folio of 1623, in all these cases, except the first, it is +spelled _vild_; in the folio of 1632, with the same exception, we also +find _vild_; even in the folio of 1664[ll] the spelling in all these +instances remains unchanged; but in the folio of 1685, _vild_ gives +place to _vile_ in every case. As with "vild," so with the other words +subjected to like changes. To make a long story short, the spelling +throughout the marginal readings of this folio, judged by the numerous +fac-similes and collations that have been published, indicates the close +of the last quarter of the century 1600 as the period about which the +volume in which they appear was subjected to correction. The careful +removal (though with some oversights) of those irregularities and +anomalies of spelling which were common before the Restoration, and the +harmonizing of grammatical discords which were disregarded before that +period, and, on the other hand, the retention of the superfluous final +_e_, (once the _e_ of prolongation,) and of the _l_ in the contractions +of "would," in accordance with a pronunciation which prevailed in +England until 1700 and later, all point to this date, which is also +indicated by various other internal proofs to which attention has been +heretofore sufficiently directed.[mm] The punctuation, too, which, +as Mr. Collier announced in "Notes and Emendations," etc., 1853, is +corrected "with nicety and patience," is that of the books printed after +the Restoration, as may be seen by a comparison of Mr. Collier's private +fac-similes and the collations of "Hamlet" in Mr. Hamilton's book with +the original editions of poems and plays printed between 1660 and 1675. + +[Footnote ll: Or 1663, according to the title-pages of some copies that +we have seen.] + +[Footnote mm: See _Shakespeare's Scholar_, pp. 56-62. And to the +passages noticed there, add this: In _King Henry VI_., Part II., Act +IV., Sc. 5, is this couplet:-- + + "Fight for your King, your country, and your lives. + And so farewell; for I must hence again." + +The last line of which in Mr. Collier's folio is changed to + + "And so farewell; _Rebellion never thrives_." + +Plainly this was written when Charlie was no longer over the water.] + +From the foregoing examination of the evidence upon this most +interesting question, it appears, we venture to assume, that the +conclusions drawn by Mr. Collier's opponents as to the existence of +primal evidence of forgery in the ink writing alone in his folio are not +sustained by the premises which are brought forward in their support. It +seems also clear, that, to say the least, it is not safe to assume that +all the pencil memorandums which appear upon the margins of that +volume as guides for the corrections in ink are proofs of the spurious +character of those corrections; but that, on the contrary, those +pencil-marks, with certain exceptions, may be the faint vestiges of the +work of a corrector who lived between 1632 and 1675, and who entered his +readings in pencil before finally completing them in ink. We have found, +too, that this volume, for the manuscript readings in which the alleged +forger claimed an authority based upon the early date at which they were +written, presents upon its every page changes in phraseology, grammar, +orthography, and punctuation, which, utterly useless for a forger's +purpose, could not have been made before a late period in the century +1600. Now when, in view of these facts, we consider that the man who is +accused of committing this forgery is a professed literary antiquary, +who, at the time when he brought forward this folio, (in 1852,) had been +engaged in the minute study of the text of old plays and poems for more +than thirty years,[nn] can we hesitate in pronouncing a verdict of not +guilty of the offence as charged? It is as manifest as the sun in +the heavens that Mr. Collier is not the writer of the mass of the +corrections in this folio. It is morally impossible that he should have +made them; and, on the other hand, the physical evidence which is relied +upon by his accusers breaks down upon examination. + +[Footnote nn: _The Poetical Decameron, or Ten Conversations on English +Poets and Poetry, particularly of the Reigns of Elizabeth and James I._ +London, 1820.] + + * * * * * + +But the modern cursive pencil-writing!--for you see that it is this +cursive writing that damns this folio,--what story does that tell? +What is its character? Who wrote it? Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby have +answered these questions by the publication of between twenty and thirty +fac-similes of this pencil-writing, consisting in only five instances of +more than a single word, letter, or mark. But these are undeniably the +work of a modern hand,--a hand of this century, as may be seen by the +following reproductions of two of the fac-similes:-- + +[Illustration: Handwriting sample.] + +The upper one represents the stage-direction in ink, with its +accompanying pencil-memorandum, for an _aside_ speech in "King +John," Act II., Sc. 1,--doubtless that of Faulconbridge,--"O prudent +discipline," etc. This is reproduced from a fac-simile published by Dr. +Ingleby. Mr. Hamilton has given a fac-simile of the same words; but Dr. +Ingleby says that his is the more accurate. The lower memorandum is a +pencilled word, "_begging_" opposite the line in "Hamlet," Act III., Sc. +2, "And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee," to which there is no +corresponding word in ink. Both these words are manifestly not examples +of an ancient cursive hand, like those of which fac-similes are given +above, but of rapid pencil-writing of the present century. They fairly +represent the character of all the fac-similes of words in pencil, with +two exceptions, which Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby have published. But +the question as to their origin can be brought down to a narrower point. +For not only does competent testimony from London assure us that Mr. +Collier's handwriting and that of these pencil-memorandums is identical, +but, having some of that gentleman's writing in pencil by us, we are +able to see this identity for ourselves. We can discover not the +slightest room for doubt that a certain number of the pencil-guides for +the corrections upon the margins of this folio were written either by +Mr. Collier himself, or in the British Museum by some malicious +person who desired to inculpate him in a forgery. The reader who has +accompanied us thus far can have no doubt as to which alternative we +feel compelled to choose. The indications of the pencilled words +in modern cursive writing are strengthened by the short-hand +stage-direction in "Coriolanus," Act V., Sc. 2, "Struggles or instead +noise," in the characters of Palmer's system, which was promulgated in +1774. This system is one which a man of Mr. Collier's years would be +likely to use, and the purport of the memorandum is obvious. Would Mr. +Collier have us believe that this also was introduced in the British +Museum? + +We have chosen the word "begging" for fac-simile not merely because of +the marked character of its chirography. It has other significance. Mr. +Collier asks, "What is gained by it?" and says, that, as there is no +corresponding change in the text, "'begging' must have been written in +the margin ... merely as an explanation, and a bad explanation, too, if +it refer to 'pregnant' in the poet's text."[oo] It is, of course, no +explanation; but it seems plainly that it is the memorandum for a +proposed, but abandoned, substitution. Who that is familiar with the +corrections in Mr. Collier's folio does not recognize this as one of +those which have been so felicitously described by an American critic as +taking "the fire out of the poetry, the fine tissue out of the thought, +and the ancient flavor and aroma out of the language"?[pp] The corrector +in this case plainly thought of reading, + + "And crook the begging hinges of the knee"; + +but, doubtful as to this at first, (for we regard the +interrogation-point as a query to himself, and not as indicating the +insertion of that point after "Dost thou hear,") he finally came to the +conclusion, that, although he, and many a respectable poet, might have +written "begging" in this passage, Shakespeare was just the man to write +"pregnant,"--an instance of critical sagacity of which he has left us +few examples. Now it is remarkable that the majority of the changes +proposed by Mr. Collier in the notes to this edition of Shakespeare +(8 vols., 8vo., 1842-3) evince a capacity for the apprehension of +figurative language and for conjectural emendation of the very calibre +indicated by this proposed change of "pregnant hinges" to "_begging_ +hinges." He has throughout his literary career, which began, we believe, +with the publication of the "Poetical Decameron," in 1820, shown +rather the faithfulness, the patience, and the judgment of a literary +antiquary, than the insight, the powers of comparison, the sensibility, +and the constructive ingenuity of a literary critic. And one of the +great improbabilities against his authorship of all the corrections in +his folio is, that it is not according to Nature that so late in life he +should develop the constructive ability necessary for the production +of many of its specious and ingenious, though inadmissible, original +readings. + +[Footnote oo: _Reply_, p. 22.] + +[Footnote pp: Rev. N.L. Frothingham, D.D., in the _Christian Examiner_ +for November, 1853.] + +We see, then, no way of avoiding the conclusion that this notorious +folio was first submitted to erasure for stage purposes; that afterward, +at some time between 1650 and 1675, it was carefully corrected for +the press with the view to the publication of a new edition; and that +finally it fell into the hands of Mr. Collier, who, either alone or by +the aid of an accomplice, introduced other readings upon its margins, +for the purpose of obtaining for them the same deference which he +supposed those already there would receive for their antiquity. +Either this is true, or Mr. Collier is the victim of a mysterious +and marvellously successful conspiracy; and by his own unwise and +unaccountable conduct--to use no harsher terms--has aided the plans of +his enemies. + +Mr. Collier's position in this affair is, in any case, a most singular +and unenviable one. His discoveries, considering their nature and +extent and the quarters in which they were made, are exceedingly +suspicious:--the Ellesmere folio, the Bridgewater House documents, +including the Southampton letter, the Dulwich College documents, +including the Alleyn letter, the Petition of the Blackfriars Company +in the State Paper Office, and the various other letters, petitions, +accounts, and copies of verses, all of which are justly open to +suspicion of tampering, if not of forgery. What a strange and +unaccountable fortune to befall one man! How has this happened? What +fiend has followed Mr. Collier through the later years of his life, +putting manuscripts under his pillow and folios into his pew, and so +luring him on to moral suicide? Alas! there is probably but one man +now living that can tell us, and he will not. But this protracted +controversy, which has left so much unsettled, has greatly served the +cause of literature, in showing that by whomsoever and whensoever these +marginal readings, which so took the world by storm nine years ago, were +written, they have no pretence to any authority whatever, not even +the quasi authority of an antiquity which would bring them within the +post-Shakespearian period. All must now see, what a few at first saw, +that their claim to consideration rests upon their intrinsic merit only. +But what that merit is, we fear will be disputed until the arrival of +that ever-receding Shakespearian millenium when the editors shall no +longer rage or the commentators imagine a vain thing. + + * * * * * + + +THE BATH. + + + Off, fetters of the falser life,-- + Weeds that conceal the statue's form! + This silent world with truth is rife, + This wooing air is warm. + + Now fall the thin disguises, planned + For men too weak to walk unblamed; + Naked beside the sea I stand,-- + Naked, and not ashamed. + + Where yonder dancing billows dip, + Far-off, to ocean's misty verge, + Ploughs Morning, like a full-sailed ship, + The Orient's cloudy surge. + + With spray of scarlet fire before + The ruffled gold that round her dies, + She sails above the sleeping shore, + Across the waking skies. + + The dewy beach beneath her glows; + A pencilled beam, the light-house burns: + Full-breathed, the fragrant sea-wind blows,-- + Life to the world returns! + + I stand, a spirit newly born, + White-limbed and pure, and strong, and fair,-- + The first-begotten son of Morn, + The nursling of the air! + + There, in a heap, the masks of Earth, + The cares, the sins, the griefs, are thrown + Complete, as, through diviner birth, + I walk the sands alone. + + With downy hands the winds caress, + With frothy lips the amorous sea, + As welcoming the nakedness + Of vanished gods, in me. + + Along the ridged and sloping sand, + Where headlands clasp the crescent cove, + A shining spirit of the land, + A snowy shape, I move: + + Or, plunged in hollow-rolling brine, + In emerald cradles rocked and swung, + The sceptre of the sea is mine, + And mine his endless song. + + For Earth with primal dew is wet, + Her long-lost child to rebaptize: + Her fresh, immortal Edens yet + Their Adam recognize. + + Her ancient freedom is his fee; + Her ancient beauty is his dower: + She bares her ample breasts, that he + May suck the milk of power. + + Press on, ye hounds of life, that lurk + So close, to seize your harried prey! + Ye fiends of Custom, Gold, and Work, + I hear your distant bay! + + And like the Arab, when he bears + To the insulted camel's path + His garment, which the camel tears, + And straight forgets his wrath; + + So, yonder badges of your sway, + Life's paltry husks, to you I give: + Fall on, and in your blindness say, + We hold the fugitive! + + But leave to me this brief escape + To simple manhood, pure and free,-- + A child of God, in God's own shape, + Between the land and sea! + + + + +SACCHARISSA MELLASYS. + + +I. + +THE HERO. + + +When I state that my name is A. Bratley Chylde, I presume that I am +already sufficiently introduced. + +My patronymic establishes my fashionable position. Chylde, the +distinguished monosyllable, is a card of admission everywhere,-- +everywhere that is anywhere. + +And my matronymic, Bratley, should have established my financial +position for life. It should have--allow me a vulgar term--"indorsed" me +with the tradesmen who have the honor to supply me with the glove, the +boot, the general habiliment, and all the requisites of an elegant +appearance upon the carpet or the _trottoir_. + +But, alas! I am not so indorsed--pardon the mercantile aroma of the +word--by the name Bratley. + +The late Mr. A. Bratley, my grandfather, was indeed one of those rude, +laborious, and serviceable persons whose office is to make money--or +perhaps I should say to accumulate the means of enjoyment--for the upper +classes of society. + +But my father, the late Mr. Harold Chylde, had gentlemanly tastes. + +How can I blame him? I have the same. + +He loved to guide the rapid steed along the avenue. + +I also love to guide the rapid steed. + +He could not persuade his delicate lungs--pardon my seeming knowledge of +anatomy--to tolerate the confined air in offices, counting-houses, banks, +or other haunts of persons whose want of refinement of taste impels them +to the crude distractions of business-life. + +I have the same delicacy of constitution. Indeed, unless the atmosphere +I breathe is rendered slightly narcotic by the smoke of Cabañas and +slightly stimulating by the savor of heeltaps,--excuse the technical +term,--I find myself debilitated to a degree. The open air is extremely +offensive to me. I confine myself to clubs and billiard-rooms. + +My late father, being a man distinguished for his clear convictions, was +accustomed to sustain the statement of those convictions by wagers. +The inherent generosity of his nature obliged him often to waive his +convictions in behalf of others, and thus to abandon the receipt of +considerable sums. He also found the intellectual excitement of games of +chance necessary to his mental health. + +I cannot blame him for these and similar gentlemanly tastes. My own are +the same. + +The late Mr. A. Bratley, at that time in his dotage, and recurring to +the crude idioms of his homely youth, constantly said to my father,-- + +"Harold, you are a spendthrift and a rake, and are bringing up your son +the same." + +I object, of course, to his terms; but since he foresaw that my habits +would be expensive, it is to be regretted that he did not make suitable +provision for their indulgence. + +He did not, however, do so. Persons of low-breeding never can comprehend +their duties to the more refined. + +The respective dusts of my father and grandfather were consigned to the +tomb the same week, and it was found that my mother's property had all +melted away, as--allow me a poetical figure--ice-cream melts between the +lips of beauty heated after the German. + +Yes,--all was gone, except a small pittance in the form of an annuity. I +will not state the ridiculously trifling amount. I have seen more +than our whole annual income lost by a single turn of a card at the +establishment of the late Mr. P. Hearn, and also in private circles. + +Something must be done. Otherwise, that deprivation of the luxuries of +life which to the aristocratic is starvation. + +I stated my plans to my mother. They were based in part upon my +well-known pecuniary success at billiards--I need not say that I prefer +the push game, as requiring no expenditure of muscular force. They were +also based in part upon my intimacy with a distinguished operator in +Wall Street. Our capital would infallibly have been quadrupled,--what +do I say? decupled, centupled, in a short space of time. + +My mother is a good, faithful creature. She looks up to me as a Bratley +should to a Chylde. She appreciates the honor my father did her by his +marriage, and I by my birth. I have frequently remarked a touching +fidelity of these persons of the lower classes of society toward those +of higher rank. + +"I would make any sacrifice in the world," she said, "to help you, my +dear A---" + +"Hush!" I cried. + +I have suppressed my first name as unmelodious and connecting me too +much with a religious persuasion meritorious for its wealth alone. Need +I say that I refer to the faith of the Rothschild? + +"All that I have is yours, my dear Bratley," continued my mother. + +Quite touching! was it not? I was so charmed, that I mentally promised +her a new silk when she went into half-mourning, and asked her to go +with me to the opera as soon as she got over that feeble tendency to +tears which kept her eyes red and unpresentable. + +"I would gladly aid you," the simple-hearted creature said, "in any +attempt to make your fortune in an honorable and manly way." + +"Brava! brava!" I cried, and I patted applause, as she deserved. "And +you had better make over your stocks to me at once," I continued. + +"I cannot without your Uncle Bratley's permission. He is my trustee. Go +to him, my dear son." + +I went to him very unwillingly. My father and I had always as much as +possible ignored the Bratley connection. They live in a part of New York +where self-respect does not allow me to be seen. They are engaged in +avocations connected with the feeding of the lower classes. My father +had always required that the females of their families should call on +my mother on days when she was not at home to our own set, and at hours +when they were not likely to be detected. None of them, I am happy to +say, were ever seen at our balls or our dinners. + +I nerved myself, and penetrated to that Ultima Thule where Mr. Bratley +resides. His house already, at that early hour of two, smelt vigorously +of dinner. Nothing but the urgency of my business could have induced me +to brave these odors of plain roast and boiled. + +A mob of red-faced children rushed to see me as I entered, and I heard +one of them shouting up the stairs,-- + +"Oh, pa! there's a stiffy waiting to see you." + +The phrase was new to me. I looked for a mirror, to see whether any +inaccuracy in my toilet might have suggested it. + +Positively there was no mirror in the _salon_. + +Instead of it, there were nothing but distressingly bright pictures by +artists who had had the bad taste to paint raw Nature just as they saw +it. + +My uncle entered, and quite overwhelmed me with a robust cordiality +which seemed to ignore my grief. + +"Just in time, my boy," said he, "to take a cut of rare roast beef and a +hot potato and a mug of your Uncle Sam's beer with us." + +I shuddered, and rebuked him with the intelligence that I had just +lunched at the club, and should not dine till six. + +Then I stated my business, curtly. + +He looked at me with a stare, which I have frequently observed in +persons of limited intelligence. + +"So you want to gamble away your mother's last dollar," said he. + +In vain I stated and restated to him my plans. The fellow, evidently +jealous of my superior financial ability, constantly interrupted me with +ejaculations of "Pish!" "Bosh!" "Pshaw!" "No go!" and finally, with a +loud thump on a table, covered with such costly but valueless objects as +books and plates, he cried, + +"What a d--d fool!" + +I was glad to perceive that he began to admit my wisdom and his +stolidity. And so I told him. + +"A---," said he, using my abhorred name in full, "I believe you are a +greater ass than your father was." + +"Sir," said I, much displeased, "these intemperate ebullitions will +necessarily terminate our conference." + +"Conference be hanged!" he rejoined. "You may as well give it up. You +are not going to get the first red cent out of me." + +"Have I referred, Sir," said I, "to the inelegant coin you name?" + +The creature grinned. "I shall pay your mother's income quarterly, and +do the best I can by her," he continued; "and if you want to make a +man of yourself, I'll give you a chance in the bakery with me; or Sam +Bratley will take you into his brewery; or Bob into his pork-packery." + +I checked my indignation. The vulgarian wished to drag me, a Chylde, +down to the Bratley level. But I suppressed my wrath, for fear he might +find some pretext for suppressing the quarterly income, and alleged my +delicate health as a reason for my refusing his insulting offer. + +"Well," said he, "I don't see as there is anything else for you to do, +except to find some woman fool enough to marry you, as Betsey did your +father. There's a hundred dollars!" + +I have seldom seen dirtier bills than those he produced and handed to +me. Fortunately I was in deep mourning and my gloves were dark lead +color. + +"That's right," says he,--"grab 'em and fob 'em. Now go to Newport and +try for an heiress, and don't let me see your tallow face inside of my +door for a year." + +He had bought the right to be despotic and abusive. I withdrew and +departed, ruminating on his advice. Singularly, I had not before thought +of marrying. I resolved to do so at once. + +Newport is the mart where the marriageable meet. I took my departure for +Newport next day. + + +II. + +THE HEROINE. + + +I need hardly say, that, on arriving at Newport, one foggy August +morning, I drove at once to the Millard. + +The Millard attracted me for three reasons: First, it was new; second, +it was fashionable; third, the name would be sure to be in favor with +the class I had resolved to seek my spouse among. The term _spouse_ I +select as somewhat less familiar than _wife_, somewhat more permanent +than _bride_, and somewhat less amatory than _the partner of my bosom_. +I wish my style to be elevated, accurate, and decorous. It is my object, +as the reader will have already observed, to convey heroic sentiments in +the finest possible language. + +It was upon some favored individual of the class Southern Heiress that +I designed to let fall the embroidered handkerchief of affectionate +selection. At the Millard I was sure to find her. That enormously +wealthy and highly distinguished gentleman, her father, would naturally +avoid the Ocean House. The adjective _free_, so intimately connected +with the _substantive_ ocean, would constantly occur to his mind and +wound his sensibilities. The Atlantic House was still more out of the +question. The name must perpetually remind the tenants of that hotel of +a certain quite objectionable periodical devoted to propagandism. In +short, not to pursue this process of elimination farther, and perhaps +offend some friend of the class Hotel-Keeper, the Millard was not only +about the cheese, _per se_,--I punningly allude here to the creaminess +of its society,--but inevitably the place to seek my charmer. + +The clock of the Millard was striking eleven as I entered the _salle à +manger_ for a late breakfast after my night-journey from New York by +steamboat. + +I flatter myself that I produced, as I intended, a distinct impression. +My deep mourning gave me a most interesting look, which I heightened +by an air of languor and abstraction as of one lost in grief. My +shirt-studs were jet. The plaits of my shirt were edged with black. My +Clarendon was, of course, black, and from its breast-pocket appeared a +handkerchief dotted with spots, not dissimilar to black peppermint-drops +on a white paper. In consequence of the extreme heat of the season, I +wore waistcoat and trousers of white duck; but they, too, were qualified +with sombre contrasts of binding and stripes. + +The waiters evidently remarked me. It may have been the hope of +pecuniary reward, it may have been merely admiration for my dress and +person; but several rushed forward, diffusing that slightly oleaginous +perfume peculiar to the waiter, and drew chairs for me. + +I had, however, selected my position at the table at the moment of +my entrance. It was _vis-à-vis_ a party of four persons,--two of the +sterner, two of the softer sex. A back view interpreted them to me. +There is much physiognomy in the backs of human heads, because--and here +I flatter myself that I enunciate a profound truth--people wear that +well-known mask, the human countenance, on the front of the human head +alone, and think it necessary to provide such concealment nowhere else. + +"A rich Southern planter and his family!" I said to myself, and took my +seat opposite them. + +"Nothing, Michel," I replied to the waiter's recital of his +bill-of-fare. "Nothing but a glass of iced water and bit of dry toast. +Only that, thank you, Michel." + +My appetite was good, particularly as, in consequence of the agitation +of the water opposite Point Judith, my stomach had ceased to be occupied +with relics of previous meals. My object in denying myself, and +accepting simply hermit fare, was to convey to observers my grief for my +bereavement. I have always deemed it proper for persons of distinguished +birth to deplore the loss of friends in public. Hunger, if extreme, can +always be reduced by furtive supplies from the pastry-cook. + +I could not avoid observing that the party opposite had each gone +through the whole breakfast bill-of-fare in a desultory, but exhaustive +manner. + +As I ordered my more delicate meal, the younger of the two gentlemen +cast upon me a look of latent truculence, such as I have often remarked +among my compatriots of the South. He seemed to detect an unexpressed +sarcasm in the contrast between my gentle refection and his robust +_déjeuner_. + +I hastened to disarm such a suspicion by a half-articulate sigh. No one, +however crass, could have failed to be touched by this token of a grief +so bitter as to refuse luxurious nutriment. + +As I sighed, I glanced with tender meaning at the young lady. Her +feminine heart, I hoped, would interpret and pity me. + +I fancied, that, at my look, her cheeks, though swarthy, blushed. She +was certainly interested, and somewhat confused, and paused a moment +in her mastication. Ham was the viand she was engaged upon, and she +(playfully, I have no doubt) ate with her knife. I have remarked the +same occasional superiority to what might be called Fourchettism and its +prejudices in others of established position in society. + +I lavished a little languid and not too condescending civility upon the +party by passing them, when Michel was absent, the salt, the butter, the +bread, and other commonplace condiments. Presently I withdrew, that my +absence might make me desired. Before I did so, however, I took pains, +by the exhibition of the "New York Herald" in my hands, to show that my +political sentiments were unexceptionable. + +I lost no time in consulting the books of the hotel for the names and +homes of the strangers. + +I read as follows:-- + + _Sachary Mellasys and Lady, } Bayou La + Miss Saccharissa Mellasys, } Farouche, + Mellasys Plickaman, } La._ + +Saccharissa Mellasys! I rolled the name like a sweet morsel under +my tongue. I forgot that she was not beautiful in form, feature, or +complexion. How slight, indeed, is the charm of beauty, when compared +with other charms more permanent! Ah, yes! + +The complexion of Miss Mellasys announced a diet of alternate pickles +and _pralines_ during her adolescent years,--the pickles taken to excite +an appetite for the _pralines_, the _pralines_ absorbed to occupy the +interval until pickle-time approached. Neither her form nor her features +were statuesque. But the name glorified the person. + +Sachary Mellasys was, as I was well aware, the great sugar-planter of +Louisiana, and Saccharissa his only child. + +I am an imaginative man. I have never doubted, that, if I should ever +give my fancies words, they would rank with the great creations of +genius. At the dulcet name of Mellasys a fairy scene grew before +my eyes. I seemed to see an army of merry negroes cultivating the +sugar-cane to the inspiring music of a banjo band. Ever and anon a +company of the careless creatures would pause and dance for pure +gayety of heart. Then they would recline under the shade of the wild +bandanna-tree,--I know this vegetable only through the artless poetry of +the negro minstrels,--while sleek and sprightly negresses, decked with +innocent finery, served them beakers of iced _eau sucré_. + +As I was shaping this Arcadian vision, Mr. Mellasys passed me on his +way to the bar-room. I hastened to follow, without the appearance of +intention. + +My reader is no doubt aware that at the fashionable bar-room the cigars +are all of the same quality, though the prices mount according to the +ambition of the purchaser. I found Mr. Mellasys gasping with efforts to +light a dime cigar. Between his gasps, profane expressions escaped him. + +"Sir," said I, "allow a stranger to offer you a better article." + +At the same time I presented my case filled with choice +Cabañas,--smuggled. My limited means oblige me to employ these judicious +economies. + +Mr. Mellasys took a cigar, lighted, whiffed, looked at me, whiffed +again,-- + +"Sir," says he, "dashed if that a'n't the best cigar I've smoked sence I +quit Bayou La Farouche!" + +"Ah! a Southerner!" said I. "Pray, allow the harmless weed to serve as a +token of amity between our respective sections." + +Mr. Mellasys grasped my hand. + +"Take a drink, Mr. ----?" said he. + +"Bratley Chylde," rejoined I, filling the hiatus,--"and I shall be most +happy." + +The name evidently struck him. It was a combination of all aristocracy +and all plutocracy. As I gave my name, I produced and presented my card. +I was aware, that, with the uncultured, the possession of a card is a +proof of gentility, as the wearing of a coat-of-arms proves a long line +of distinguished ancestry. + +Mr. Mellasys took my card, studied it, and believed in it with +refreshing _naiveté_. + +"I'm proud to know you, Mr. Chylde," said he. "I haven't a card; +but Mellasys is my name, and I'll show it to you written on the +hotel-books." + +"We will waive that ceremony," said I. "And allow me to welcome you to +Newport and the Millard. Shall we enjoy the breeze upon the piazza?" + +Before our second cigar was smoked, the great planter and I were on the +friendliest terms. My political sentiments he found precisely in accord +with his own. Indeed, our general views of life harmonized. + +"I dare say you have heard," said Mellasys, "from some of the bloated +aristocrats of my section that I was a slave-dealer once." + +"Such a rumor has reached me," rejoined I. "And I was surprised to find, +that, in some minds of limited intelligence and without development of +the logical faculty, there was a prejudice against the business." + +"You think that buyin' and sellin' 'em is just the same as ownin' 'em?" + +"I do." + +"Your hand!" said he, fervently. + +"Mr. Mellasys," said I, "let me take this opportunity to lay down my +platform,--allow me the playful expression. Meeting a gentleman of your +intelligence from the sunny South, I desire to express my sentiments as +a Christian and a gentleman." + +Here I thought it well to pause and spit, to keep myself in harmony with +my friend. + +"A gentleman," I continued, "I take to be one who confines himself to +the cultivation of his tastes, the decoration of his person, and the +preparation of his whole being to shine in the _salon_. Now to such +a one the condition of the laboring classes can be of no possible +interest. As a gentleman, I cannot recognize either slaves or laborers. +But here Christianity comes in. Christianity requires me to read and +interpret my Bible. In it I find such touching paragraphs as, 'Cursed +be Canaan!' Canaan is of course the negro slave of our Southern States. +Curse him! then, I say. Let us have no weak and illogical attempts to +elevate his condition. Such sentimentalism is rank irreligion. I view +the negro as _a man permanently upon the rack_, who is to be punished +just as much as he will bear without diminishing his pecuniary value. +And the allotted method of punishment is hard work, hard fare, the +liberal use of the whip, and a general negation of domestic privileges." + +"Mr. Chylde," said Mr. Mellasys, rising, "this is truth! this is +eloquence! this is being up to snuff! You are a high-toned gentleman! +you are an old-fashioned Christian! you should have been my partner in +slave-driving! Your hand!" + +The quality of the Mellasys hand was an oleaginous clamminess. My only +satisfaction, in touching it, was, that it seemed to suggest a deficient +circulation of the blood. Mr. Mellasys would probably go off early with +an apoplexy, and the husband of Miss Mellasys would inherit without +delay. + +"And now," continued the planter, "let me introduce you to my daughter." + +I felt that my fortune was made. + +I knew that she would speedily yield to my fascinations. + +And so it proved. In three days she adored me. For three days more I was +coy. In a week she was mine. + + +III. + +THE SUNNY SOUTH. + + +We were betrothed, Saccharissa Mellasys and I. + +In vain did Mellasys Plickaman glower along the corridors of the +Millard. I pitied him for his defeat too much to notice his attempts +to pick a quarrel. Firm in the affection of my Saccharissa and in the +confidence of her father, I waived the insults of the aggrieved and +truculent cousin. He had lost the heiress. I had won her. I could afford +to be generous. + +We were to be married in December, at Bayou La Farouche. Then we were +to sail at once for Europe. Then, after a proud progress through the +principal courts, we were to return and inhabit a stately mansion in New +York. How the heart of my Saccharissa throbbed at the thought of bearing +the elevated name of Chylde and being admitted to the sacred circles of +fashion, as peer of the most elevated in social position! + +I found no difficulty in getting a liberal credit from my tailor. Upon +the mere mention of my engagement, that worthy artist not only provided +me with an abundant supply of raiment, but, with a most charming +delicacy, placed bank-notes for a considerable amount in the pockets +of my new trousers. I was greatly touched by this attention, and very +gladly signed an acknowledgment of debt. + +I regret, that, owing to circumstances hereafter to be mentioned, the +diary kept jointly by Saccharissa and myself during our journey to the +sunny South has passed out of my possession. Its pages overflowed with +tenderness. How beautiful were our dreams of the balls and _soirées_ we +were to give! How we discussed the style of our furniture, our carriage, +and our coachman! How I fed Saccharissa's soul with adulation! She +was ugly, she was vulgar, she was jealous, she was base, she had had +flirtations of an intimate character with scores; but she was rich, and +I made great allowances. + +At last we arrived at Bayou La Farouche. + +I cannot state that the locality is an attractive one. Its land scenery +is composed of alligators and mud in nearly equal proportions. + +I never beheld there my fancy realized of a band of gleeful negroes +hoeing cane to the music of the banjo. There are no wild bandanna-trees, +and no tame ones, either. The slaves of Mr. Mellasys never danced, +except under the whip of a very noisome person who acted as overseer. +There were no sleek and sprightly negresses in gay turbans, and no iced +_eau sucré_. Canaan was cursed with religious rigor on the Mellasys +plantation at Bayou La Farouche. + +All this time Mellasys Plickaman had been my _bête noir_. + +I know nothing of politics. Were our country properly constituted, +I should be in the House of Peers. The Chylde family is of sublime +antiquity, and I am its head in America. But, alas! we have no +hereditary legislators; and though I feel myself competent to wear the +strawberry-leaves, or even to sit upon a throne, I have not been willing +to submit to the unsavory contacts of American political life. Mr. +Mellasys Plickaman took advantage of my ignorance. + +When several gentlemen of the neighborhood were calling upon me in the +absence of Mr. Mellasys, my defeated rival introduced the subject of +politics. + +"I suppose you are a good Democrat, Mr. Chylde?" said one of the +strangers. + +"No, I thank you," replied I, sportively,--meaning, of course, that +they should understand I was a good Aristocrat. + +"Who's your man for President?" my interlocutor continued, rather +roughly. + +I had heard in conversation, without giving the fact much attention, +that an election for President was to take place in a few days. These +struggles of commonplace individuals for the privilege of residing in +a vulgar town like Washington were without interest to me. So I +answered,-- + +"Oh, any of them. They are all alike to me." + +"You don't mean to say," here another of the party loudly broke in, +"that Breckenridge and Lincoln are the same to you?" + +The young man wore long hair and a black dress-coat, though it was +morning. His voice was nasal, and his manner intrusive. I crushed +him with a languid "Yes." He was evidently abashed, and covered his +confusion by lighting a cigar and smoking it with the lighted end in +his mouth. This is a habit of many persons in the South, who hence are +called Fire-Eaters. + +Mellasys Plickaman here changed the subject to horses, which I _do_ +understand, and my visitors presently departed. + + "How happily the days of Thalaba went by!" + +as the poet has it. My Saccharissa and myself are both persons of a +romantic and dreamy nature. Often for hours we would sit and gaze +upon each other with only occasional interjections,--"How warm!" "How +sleepy!" "Is it not almost time for lunch?" As Saccharissa was not in +herself a beautiful object, I accustomed myself to see her merely as a +representative of value. Her yellowish complexion helped me in imagining +her, as it were, a golden image which might be cut up and melted down. +I used to fancy her dresses as made of certificates of stock, and +her ribbons as strips of coupons. Thus she was always an agreeable +spectacle. + +So time flew, and the sun of the sixth of November gleamed across the +scaly backs of the alligators of Bayou La Farouche. + +In three days I was to be made happy with the possession of one +hundred thousand dollars ($100,000) on the nail,--excuse the homely +expression,--great expectations for the future, and the hand of my +Saccharissa. + +For these I exchanged the name and social position of a Chylde, and my +own, I trust, not unattractive person. + +I deemed that I gave myself away dirt-cheap,--excuse again the +colloquialism; the transaction seems to require such a phrase,--for +there is no doubt that Mr. Mellasys was greatly objectionable. It was +certainly very illogical; but his neighbors who owned slaves insisted +upon turning up their noses at Mellasys, because he still kept up his +slave-pen on Touchpitchalas Street, New Orleans. Besides,--and here +again the want of logic seems to culminate into rank absurdity,--he was +viewed with a purely sentimental abhorrence by some, because he had +precluded a reclaimed fugitive from repeating his evasion by roasting +the soles of his feet before a fire until the fellow actually died. The +fact, of coarse, was unpleasant, and the loss considerable,--a prime +field-hand, with some knowledge of carpentry and a good performer on +the violin,--but evasions must be checked, and I cannot see why Mr. +Mellasys's method was too severe. Mr. Mellasys was also considered a +very unscrupulous person in financial transactions,--indeed, what would +be named in some communities a swindler; and I have heard it whispered +that the estimable, but somewhat obese and drowsy person who passed as +his wife was not a wife, ceremonially speaking. The dusky hues of her +complexion were also attributed to an infusion of African blood. There +was certainly more curl in her hair than I could have wished; and +Saccharissa's wiggy looks waged an irrepressible conflict with the +unguents which strove to reduce their crispness. + +Indeed, why should I not be candid? Mellasys _per se_ was a pill, Mrs. +Mellasys was a dose, and Saccharissa a bolus, to one of my refined and +sensitive taste. + +But the sugar coated them. + +To marry the daughter of the great sugar-planter of Louisiana I would +have taken medicines far more unpalatable and assafoetidesque than any +thus far offered. + +Meanwhile Mr. Mellasys Plickaman, cousin of my betrothed, had changed +his tactics and treated me with civility and confidence. We drank +together freely, sometimes to the point of inebriation. Indeed, unless +he put me to bed, on the evening before the day of the events I am about +to describe, I do not know how I got there. + +Morning dawned on the sixth of November. + +I was awakened, as usual, by the outcries of the refractory negroes +receiving their matinal stripes in the whipping-house. Feeling a little +languid and tame, I strolled down to witness the spectacle. + +It stimulated me quite agreeably. The African cannot avoid being comic. +He is the grotesque element in our civilization. He will be droll even +under the severest punishment. His contortions of body, his grimaces, +his ejaculations of "O Lor'! O Massa!" as the paddle or the lash strikes +his flesh, are laughable in the extreme. + +I witnessed the flagellation of several pieces of property of either +sex. The sight of their beating had the effect of a gentle tickling upon +me. The tone of my system was restored. I grew gay and lightsome. I +exchanged jokes with the overseer. He appreciated my mood, and gave a +farcical turn to the incidents of the occasion. + +I enjoyed my breakfast enormously. Saccharissa never looked so sweet; +Mr. Mellasys never so little like--pardon the expression--a cross +between a hog and a hyena; and I began to fancy that my mother-in-law's +general flabbiness of flesh and drapery was not so very offensive. + +After breakfast, Mr. Mellasys left us. It was, he said, the day of the +election for President. How wretched that America should not be governed +by hereditary sovereigns and an order of nobles trained to control! + +The day passed. It was afternoon, and I sat reading one of the novels +of my favorite De Balzac to my Saccharissa. At the same time my +imagination, following the author, strayed to Paris, and recalled to me +my bachelor joys in that gay capital. I resolved to repeat them again, +on our arrival there, at my bride's expense. How charming to possess a +hundred thousand dollars, ($100,000,) even burdened with a wife! + +My reading and my reverie were interrupted by the tramp of horses +without. Six persons in dress-coats rode up, dismounted, and approached. +All were smoking cigars with the lighted ends in their mouths. Mellasys +Plickaman led the party. I recognized also the persons who had +questioned me as to my politics. They entered the apartment where I sat +alone with Saccharissa. + +"Thar he is!" said Mellasys Plickaman. "Thar is the d--d Abolitionist!" + +Seeing that he indicated me, and that his voice was truculent, I +looked to my betrothed for protection. She burst into tears and drew a +handkerchief. + +An odor of musk combated for an instant with the whiskey reek diffused +by Mr. Plickaman and his companions. The balmy odor was, however, +quelled by the ruder scent. + +"I am surprised, Mr. Plickaman," said I, mildly, but conscious of +tremors, "at your use of opprobrious epithets in the presence of a +lady." + +"Oh, you be blowed!" returned he, with unpardonable rudeness. "You can't +skulk behind Saccharissy." + +"To what is this change in tone and demeanor owing, Sir?" I asked, with +dignity. + +"Don't take on airs, you little squirt!" said he. + +It will be observed that I quote his very language. His intention was +evidently insulting. + +"Mr. Chylde," remarked Judge Pyke, one of the gentlemen who had been +inquisitive as to my political sentiments, "The Vigilance Committee of +Fire-Eaters of Bayou La Farouche have come to the conclusion that you +are a spy, an Abolitionist, and a friend of Beecher and Phillips. We +intend to give you a fair trial; but I may as well state that we have +all made up our minds as to the law, the facts, and the sentence. +Therefore, prepare for justice. Colonel Plickaman, have you given +directions about the tar?" + +"It'll be b'ilin' in about eight minutes," replied my quondam rival, +with a boo-hoo of vulgar laughter. + +"Culprit!" said Judge Pyke, looking at me with a truly terrible +expression, "I have myself heard you avow, with insolent audacity, +that you were not a Democrat. Do you not know, Sir, that nothing but +Democrats are allowed to breathe the zephyrs of Louisiana? Silence, +culprit! Not a word! The court cannot be interrupted. I have also heard +you state that the immortal Breckenridge, Kentucky's favorite son, +was the same to you as the tiger Lincoln, the deadly foe of Southern +institutions. Silence, culprit!" + +Here Saccharissa moaned, and wafted a slight flavor of musk to me from +her cambric wet with tears. + +"Colonel Plickaman," continued the Judge, "produce the letters and +papers of the culprit." + +I am aware that a rival has rights, and that a defeated suitor may, +according to the code, calumniate and slander the more fortunate one. I +have done so myself. But it seems to me that there should be limits; and +I cannot but think that Mr. Mellasys Plickaman overstepped the limits +of fair play, when he took advantage of my last night's inebriety +to possess himself of my journal and letters. I will not, however, +absolutely commit myself on this point. Perhaps everything is fair in +love. Perhaps I may desire to avail myself of the same privilege in +future. + +I had spoken quite freely in my journal of the barbarians of Bayou La +Farouche. Each of the gentlemen now acting upon my jury was alluded to. +Colonel Plickaman read each passage in a pointed way, interjecting,--"Do +you hear that, Billy Sangaree?" "How do you like yourself now, Major +Licklickin?" "Here's something about your white cravat, Parson +Butterfut." + +The delicacy and wit of my touches of character chafed these gentlemen. +Their aspect became truly formidable. + +Meantime I began to perceive an odor which forcibly recalled to me the +asphaltum-kettles of the lively Boulevards of Paris. + +"Wait awhile, Fire-Eaters," said Plickaman, "the tar isn't quite ready +yet." + +The tar! What had that viscous and unfragrant material to do with the +present interview? + +"I won't read you what he says of me," resumed the Colonel. + +"Yes,--out with it!" exclaimed all. + +Suffice it to say that I had spoken of Mr. Mellasys Plickaman as a +person so very ill-dressed, so very lavish in expectoration, so entirely +destitute of the arts and graces of the higher civilization, merited. +His companions required that he should read his own character. He did +so. I need not say that I was suffering extremities of apprehension all +this time; but still I could not refrain from a slight sympathetic smile +of triumph as the others roared with laughter at my accurate analysis of +my rival. + +"You'll pay for this, Mr. A. Bratley Chylde!" says Plickaman. + +So long as my Saccharissa was on my side, I felt no special fear of what +my foes might do. I knew the devoted nature of the female sex. "_Elles +meurent, ou elles s'attachent_,"--beautiful thought! These riflers +of journals would, I felt confident, be unable to produce anything +reflecting my real sentiments about my betrothed. I had spoken of her +and her family freely--one must have a vent somewhere--to Mr. Derby +Deblore, my other self, my _Pylades_, my _Damon_, my _fidus Achades_ in +New York; but, unless they found Derby and compelled him to testify, +they could not alienate my Saccharissa. + +I gave her a touching glance, as Mellasys Plickaman closed his reading +of my private papers. + +She gave me a touching glance,--or rather, a glance which her amorphous +features meant to make touching,--and, waving musk from her handkerchief +through the apartment, cried,-- + +"Never mind, Arthur dear! I don't like you a bit the less for saying +what barbarous creatures these men are. They may do what they +please,--I'll stand by you. You have my heart, my warm Southern heart, +my Arthur!" + +"Arthur!" shouted that atrocious Plickaman,--"the loafer's name's +Aminadab, after that old Jew, his grandfather." + +Saccharissa looked at him and smiled contemptuously. + +I tried to smile. I could not. Aminadab _was_ my name. That old dotard, +my grandfather, had borne it before me. I had suppressed it carefully. + +"Aminadab's his name," repeated the Colonel. "His own mother ought to +know what he was baptized, and here is a letter from her which the +postmaster and I opened this morning. Look!--'My dear Aminadab.'" + +"Don't believe it, Saccharissa," said I, faintly, "It is only one of +those tender nicknames, relics of childhood, which the maternal parent +alone remembers." + +"Silence, culprit!" exclaimed Judge Pyke. "And now, Colonel, read the +letter upon which our sentence is principally based,--that traitorous +document which you and our patriotic postmaster arrested." + +The ruffian, with a triumphant glance at me, took from his pocket +a letter from Derby Deblore. He cleared his throat by a plenteous +expectoration, and then proceeded to read as follows:-- + +"Dear Bratley,--Nigger ran like a hound. Marshall and the rest only saw +his heels. I'm going on to Toronto to see how he does there. Keep your +eyes peeled, when you come through Kentucky. There's more of the same +stock there, only waiting for somebody to say, 'Leg it!' and they'll go +like mad." + +Here the audience interrupted,--"Hang him! hang him! tar and feathers +a'n't half bad enough for the dam' nigger-thief!" + +I began to comprehend Deblore's innocent reference to his favorite horse +Nigger; and a successful race he had made with the well-known racer +Marshall--not Rynders--was construed by my jury into a knowledge on my +part of the operations of the "Underground Railroad." What could have +been more absurd? I endeavored to protest. I endeavored to show them, on +general and personal grounds, how utterly devoted I was to the "Peculiar +Institution." + +"Billy Sangaree," said Judge Pyke, "do you and Major Licklickin stand by +the low-lived Abolitionist, and if he says another word, blow out his +Black Republican heart." + +They did so. I was silent. Saccharissa gave me a glance expressive of +continued devotion. So long as I kept her and her hundred thousand +dollars, ($100,000,) I little cared for the assaults of these noisy and +ill-bred persons. + +"Continue, Colonel," said Judge Pyke, severely. + +Plickaman resumed the reading of my friend's letter. + +"Well, Bratley," Deblore went on, "I hope you'll be able to stand Bayou +La Farouche till you're married. I couldn't do it. I roar over your +letters. But I swear I respect your powers of humbug. I suppose, if you +didn't let out to me, you never could lie so to your dear Saccharissa. +Do you know I think you are a little too severe in calling her a mean, +spiteful, slipshod, vulgar, dumpy little flirt?" + +"Read that again!" shrieked Saccharissa. + +"You are beginning to find out your Aminadab!" says Plickaman. + +I moved my lips to deny my name; but the pistol of Billy Sangaree was +at my right temple, the pistol of Major Licklickin at my left. I was +silent, and bore the scornful looks of my persecutors with patience and +dignity. + +Plickaman repeated the sentence. + +"But hear the rest," said he, and read on:-- + +"From what you say of her tinge of African blood and other charming +traits, I have constructed this portrait of the future Mrs. Bratley +Chylde, as the Hottentot Venus. Behold it!" + +And Mellasys held up a highly colored caricature, covering one whole +side of my friend's sheet. + +Saccharissa rose from the sofa where she had been sitting during the +whole of my trial. + +She stood before me,--really I cannot deny it,--a little, ugly, vulgar +figure, overloaded with finery, and her laces and ribbons trembled with +rage. + +She seemed not to be able to speak, and, by way of relieving herself of +her overcharge of wrath, smote me several times on either ear with that +pudgy hand I had so often pressed in mine or tenderly kissed. + +At this exhibition of a resentment I can hardly deem feminine, the +Fire-Eaters roared with laughter and cheered her to continue. A circle +of negroes also, at the window, expressed their amusement at the scene +in the guttural manner of their race. + +I could not refrain from tears at these unhappy exhibitions on the part +of my betrothed. They augured ill for the harmony of our married life. + +"Hit him again, Rissy! he's got no friends," that vulgar Plickaman +urged. + +She again advanced, seized me by the hair, and shook me with greater +muscular force than I should have expected of one of her indolent +habits. Delicacy for her sex of course forbade my offering resistance; +and besides, there were my two sentries, roaring with vulgar laughter, +but holding their pistols with a most unpleasant accuracy of aim at my +head. + +"Saccharissa, my love," I ventured to say, in a pleading tone, "these +momentary ebullitions of a transitory rage will give the bystanders +unfavorable impressions of your temper." + +"You horrid little wretch!" she screeched, "you sneak! you irreligious +infidel! you Black Republican! you Aminadab!"---- + +Here her unnecessary passion choked her, and she took advantage of +the pause to handle my hair with extreme violence. The sensation was +unpleasant, but I began to hope that no worse would befall me, and +I knew that with a few dulcet words in private I could remove from +Saccharissa's mind the asperity induced by my friend's caricature. + +"I leave it to you, gentlemen," said she, "whether I am vulgar, as this +fellow's correspondence asserts." + +"Certainly not," said Judge Pyke. "You are one of the most high-toned +beauties in the sunny South, the land of the magnolia and the papaw." + +"Your dignity," said Major Licklickin, "is only surpassed by your grace, +and both by your queenly calmness." + +The others also gave her the best compliments they could, poor fellows! +I could have taught them what to say. + +Here a grinning negro interrupted with,-- + +"De tar-kittle's a b'ilin' on de keen jump, Mas'r Mellasys." + +"Gentlemen of the Jury," said Judge Pyke, "as you had agreed upon your +verdict before the trial, it is not requisite that you should retire to +consult. Prisoner at the Bar, rise to receive sentence." + +I thought it judicious to fall upon my knees and request forgiveness; +but my persecutors were blinded by what no doubt seemed to them a +religious zeal. + +"Git up!" said Major Licklickin; and I am ashamed, for his sake, to say +that there was an application of boot accompanying this remark. + +"Prisoner," continued my Rhadamanthus, "you have had a fair trial, and +you are found guilty on all the counts of the indictment. First: Of +disloyalty to the South. Second: Of indifference to the Democratic +candidate for the Presidency. Third: Of maligning the character +of Southern patriots in a book intended, no doubt, for universal +circulation through the Northern States. Fourth: Of holding +correspondence with an agent of the Underground Railroad, who, as he +himself avows, has recently run off a nigger to Toronto.--Silence, Sir! +Choke him, Billy Sangaree, if he says a word!--Fifth: Of defaming a +Southern lady, while at the same time you were endeavoring to win her +most attractive property and person from those who should naturally +acquire them. Sixth: Of Agrarianism, Abolitionism, Atheism, and +Infidelity. Prisoner at the Bar, your sentence is, that you be tarred +and cottoned and leave the State. If you are caught again, you will be +hung by the neck, and Henry Ward Beecher have mercy on your soul!" + +I was now marched along by my two sentries to a huge tree, not of the +bandanna species. Beneath it a sugar-kettle filled with ebullient tar +was standing. + +My persecutors, with tranquil brutality, proceeded to disrobe me. As my +nether garments were removed, Mellasys Plickaman succeeded in persuading +Saccharissa to retire. She, however, took her station at a window +and peered through the blinds at the spectacle. I do not envy her +sensations. All her bright visions of fashionable life were destroyed +forever. She would now fall into the society from which I had endeavored +to lift her. Poor thing! knowing, too, that I, and my friend Derby +Deblore, perhaps the most elegant young man in America, regarded her as +a Hottentot Venus. Poor thing! I have no doubt that she longed to rush +out, fling herself at my feet, and pray me to forgive her and reconsider +my verdict of dumpiness and vulgarity. + +Meantime I had been reduced to my shirt and drawers,--excuse the nudity +of my style in stating this fact. Mellasys Plickaman took a ladle-full +of the viscous fluid and poured it over my head. + +"Aminadab," said he, "I baptize thee!" + +I have experienced few sensations more unpleasant than this application. +The tar descended in warm and sluggish streams, trickling over my +forehead, dropping from my eyelids, rolling over my cheeks, sealing my +mouth, gluing my ears to my skull, identifying itself with my hair, +pursuing the path indicated by my spine beneath my shirt,--in short, +enveloping me with a close-fitting armor of a glutinous and most +unsavory material. + +Each of the jury followed the example of my detested rival. In a few +moments the tarring was complete. Few can see themselves mentally or +physically as others see them; but, judging from the remarks made, I am +convinced that I must have afforded an entertaining spectacle to the +party. They roared with laughter, and jeered me. I, however, preserved a +silence discreet, and, I flatter myself, dignified. + +The negroes, particularly those at whose fustigation I had assisted +in the morning, joined in the scoffs of their masters, calling me +Bobolitionist, Black Republican, Liberator, and other nicknames by +which these simple-hearted and contented creatures express dislike and +distrust. + +"Bring the cotton!" now cried Mellasys Plickaman. + +A bag of that regal product was brought. + +"Roll him in it!" said Billy Sangaree. + +"Let the Colonel work his own tricks," Major Licklickin said. "He's an +artist, he is." + +I must admit that he was an artist. He fabricated me an elaborate wig of +the cotton. He arranged me a pair of bushy white eyebrows. He stuck +a venerable beard upon my chin, and a moustache upon my lip. Then he +proceeded to indicate my ribs with lines of cotton, and to cap my +shoulders with epaulets. It would be long to describe the fantastic +tricks he played with me amid the loud laughter of his crew. + +Occasionally, also, I heard suppressed giggles from Saccharissa at the +window. + +I have no doubt that I should have strangled my late _fiancée_, if such +an act had been consistent with my personal safety. + +When I was completely cottoned, in the decorative manner I have +described, Mellasys took a banjo from an old negro, and, striking it, +not without a certain unsophisticated and barbaric grace appropriate to +the instrument, commanded me to dance. + +I essayed to do so. But my heart was heavy; consequently my heels were +not light. My faint attempts at pirouettes were not satisfactory. + +"Dance jollier, or we'll hang you," said Plickaman. + +"No," says Judge Pyke,--"the sentence of the Court has been executed. +In the sacred name of Justice I protest against proceeding farther. +Culprit," continued he, in a voice of thunder, "cut for the North Star, +and here's passage-money for you." + +He stuck a half-eagle into the tarry integument of my person. Billy +Sangaree, Major Licklickin, and others of the more inebriated, imitated +him. My dignity of bearing had evidently made a favorable impression. + +I departed amid cheers, some ironical, some no doubt sincere. But to the +last, these chivalric, but prejudiced and misguided gentlemen declined +to listen to my explanations. Mellasys Plickaman had completely +perverted their judgments against me. + +The last object I saw was Saccharissa, looking more like a Hottentot +Venus than ever, waving her handkerchief and kissing her hand to me. Did +she repent her brief disloyalty? For a moment I thought so, and resolved +to lie in wait, return by night, and urge her to fly with me. But while +I hesitated, Mellasys Plickaman drew near her. She threw herself into +his arms, and there, before all the Committee of Fire-Eaters of Bayou La +Farouche, she kissed him with those amorphous lips I had often compelled +myself to taste. Faugh! + +I deemed this scene a token that my engagement was absolutely +terminated. + +There was no longer any reason why I should degrade myself by remaining +in this vulgar society. I withdrew into the thickets of the adjoining +wood and there for a time abandoned myself to melancholy reminiscences. + +Presently I heard footsteps. I turned and saw a black approaching, +bearing the homely viand known as corn-dodger. He offered it. I accepted +it as a tribute from the inferior race to the superior. + +I recognized him as one whose fustigation had so revived my crapulous +spirits in the morning. He seemed to bear no malice. Malignity is +perhaps a mark of more highly developed character. I, for example, +possess it to a considerable degree. + +The black led me to a lair in the wood. He took my half-eagles from my +tar. He scraped and cleansed me by simple methods of which he had the +secret. He clothed me in rude garments. Gunny-bag was, I think, the +material. He gave me his own shoes. The heels were elongated; but this +we remedied by a stuffing of leaves. He conducted me toward the banks of +Bayou La Farouche. + +On our way, we were compelled to pass not far from the Mellasys mansion. +There was a sound of revelry. It was night. I crept cautiously up and +peered into the window. + +There stood the Reverend Onesimus Butterfut, since a prominent candidate +for the archbishopric of the Southern Confederacy. Saccharissa, more +over-dressed than usual, and her cousin Mellasys Plickaman, somewhat +unsteady with inebriation, stood before him. He was pronouncing them man +and wife,--why not ogre and hag? + +How fortunate was my escape! + +As my negro guide would not listen to my proposal to set the Mellasys +establishment on fire while the inmates slept, I followed him to the +banks of the Bayou. He provided me with abundant store of the homely +food already alluded to. He launched me in a vessel; known to some as +a dug-out, to some as a gundalow. His devotion was really touching. +It convinced me more profoundly than ever of the canine fidelity and +semi-animal characteristics of his race. + +I floated down the Bayou. I was picked up by a cotton-ship in the Gulf. +I officiated as assistant to the cook on the homeward voyage. + +At the urgent solicitation of my mother, I condescended, on my return, +to accept a situation in my Uncle Bratley's cracker-bakery. The business +is not aristocratic. But what business is? I cannot draw the line +between the baker of hard tack--such is the familiar term we employ--and +the seller of the material for our product, by the barrel or the cargo. +From the point of view of a Chylde, all avocations for the making of +money seem degrading, and only the spending is dignified. + +As my conduct during the Mellasys affair has been maligned and scoffed +at by persons of crude views of what is _comme il faut_, I have drawn up +this statement, confident that it will justify me to all of my order, +which I need not state is distinctively that of the Aristocrat and the +Gentleman. + + + + +MY ODD ADVENTURE WITH JUNIUS BRUTUS BOOTH. + + +More than twenty years ago, being pastor of a church in one of our +Western cities, I was sitting, one evening, meditating over my coal +fire, which was cheerfully blazing up and gloomily subsiding again, in +the way that Western coal fires in Western coal grates were then very +much in the habit of doing. I was a young, and inexperienced minister. +I had come to the West, fresh from a New England divinity-school, with +magnificent ideas of the vast work which was to be done, and with rather +a vague notion of the way in which I was to do it. My views of the West +were chiefly derived from two books, both of which are now obsolete. +When a child, with the omnivorous reading propensity of children, I had +perused a thin, pale octavo, which stood on the shelves of our library, +containing the record of a journey by the Rev. Thaddeus Mason Harris, of +Dorchester, from Massachusetts to Marietta, Ohio. Allibone, whom nothing +escapes, gives the title of the book, "Journal of a Tour into the +Territory Northwest of the Allegheny Mountains in 1803, Boston, 1805." +That a man should write an octavo volume about a journey to Marietta now +strikes us as rather absurd; but in those days the overland journey to +Ohio was as difficult as that to California is now. The other book was a +more important one, being Timothy Flint's "Ten Years' Recollections +of the Mississippi Valley," published in 1826. Mr. Flint was a man of +sensibility and fancy, a sharp observer, and an interesting writer. His +book opened the West to us in its scenery and in its human interest. + +I was sitting in my somewhat lonely position, watching my coal fire, and +thinking of the friends I had left on the other side of the mountains. +I had not succeeded as I had hoped in my work. I came to the West +expecting to meet with opposition, and I found only indifference. I +expected infidelity, and found worldliness. I had around me a company +of good Christian friends, but they were no converts of mine; they were +from New England, like myself, and brought their religion with them. +Upon the real Western people I had made no impression, and could not see +how I should make any. Those who were religious seemed to be bigots; +those who were not religious cared apparently more for making money, for +politics, for horseracing, for duelling, than for the difference between +Homoousians and Homoiousians. They were very fond of good preaching, but +their standard was a little different from that I had been accustomed +to. A solid, meditative, carefully written sermon had few attractions +for them. They would go to hear our great New England divines on account +of their reputation, but they would run in crowds to listen to John +Newland Maffit. What they wanted, as one of them expressed it, was "an +eloquent divine and no common orator." They liked sentiment run out into +sentimentalism, fluency, point, plenty of illustration, and knock-down +argument. How could a poor boy, fresh from the groves of our Academy, +where Good Taste reigned supreme, and where to learn how to manage one's +voice was regarded as a sin against sincerity, how could he meet such +demands as these? + +I was more discouraged than I need to have been; for, after all, the +resemblances in human beings are more than their differences. The +differences are superficial,--the resemblances radical. Everywhere men +like, in a Christian minister, the same things,--sincerity, earnestness, +and living Christianity. Mere words may please, but not long. Men differ +in taste about the form of the cup out of which they drink this wine of +Divine Truth, but they agree in their thirst for the same wine. + +But to my story. + +I was sitting, therefore, meditating somewhat sadly, when a knock came +at the door. On opening it, a negro boy, with grinning face, presented +himself, holding a note. The great fund of good-humor which God has +bestowed on the African race often makes them laugh when we see no +occasion for laughter. Any event, no matter what it is, seems to them +amusing. So this boy laughed merely because he had brought me a note, +and not because there was anything peculiarly amusing in the message +which the note contained. It is true that you sometimes meet a +melancholy negro. But such, I fancy, have some foreign blood in +them,--they are not Africans _pur sang_. The race is so essentially +joyful, that centuries of oppression and hardship cannot depress its +good spirits. It is cheerful in spite of slavery, and in spite of cruel +prejudice. + +The note the boy brought me did not seem adapted to furnish much +provocation for laughter. It was as follows:-- + +"_United States Hotel_, Jan. 4th, 1834. + +"SIR,--I hope you will excuse the liberty of a stranger addressing you +on a subject he feels great interest in. It is to require a place of +interment for his friend[s] in the church-yard, and also the expense +attendant on the purchase of such place of temporary repose. + +"Your communication on this matter will greatly oblige, + +"Sir, + +"Your respectful and + +"Obedient Servant, + +"J.B. BOOTH." + +It will be observed that after the word "friend" an [s] follows in +brackets. In the original the word was followed by a small mark which +might or might not give it the plural form. It could be read either +"friend" or "friends"; but as we do not usually find ourselves called +upon to bury more than one friend at a time, the hasty reader would +not notice the mark, but would read it "friend." So did I; and only +afterward, in consequence of the _dénouement_, did I notice that it +might be read in the other way. + +Taking my hat, I stepped into the street. Gas in those days was not; +an occasional lantern, swung on a wire across the intersection of the +streets, reminded us that the city was once French, and suggested the +French Revolution and the cry, "_À la lanterne!_" First I went to my +neighbor, the mayor of the city, in pursuit of the desired information. +A jolly mayor was he,--a Yankee melted down into a Western man, +thoroughly Westernized by a rough-and-tumble life in Kentucky during +many years. Being obliged to hold a mayor's court every day, and knowing +very little of law, his chief study was, as he expressed it, "how to +choke off the Kentucky lawyers." Mr. Mayor not being at home, I turned +next to the office of another naturalized Yankee,--a Yankee naturalized, +but never Westernized. He was one of those who do not change their mind +with their sky, who, exiled from the dear hills of New England, can +never get away from the inborn, inherent Yankee. He was a Plymouth man, +and religiously preserved every opinion, habit, and accent which he had +brought from Plymouth Rock. When Kentucky was madly Democratic and wept +over the dead Jefferson as over her saint, he had expressed the opinion +that it would have been well for the country, if he had died long +before,--for which expression he came near being lynched. He was the +most unpopular and the most indispensable man in the city,--they could +live neither with him nor without him. He founded and organized the +insurance companies, the public schools, the charitable associations, +the great canal, the banking-system,--in short, all Yankee institutions. +The city was indebted to him for much of its prosperity, but disliked +him while it respected him. For he spared no Western prejudice; he +remorselessly criticized everything that was not done as Yankees do it: +and the most provoking thing of all was that he never made a mistake; he +was always right. + +Finding no one at home, and so not being able to learn about the price +of lots in the church-yard, I walked on to the hotel, and asked to see +Mr. J.B. Booth. I was shown into a private parlor, where he and another +gentleman were sitting by a table. On the table were candles, a decanter +of wine, and glasses, a plate of bread, cigars, and a book. Mr. Booth +rose when I announced myself, and I at once recognized the distinguished +actor. I had met him once before, and travelled with him for part of a +day. He was a short man, but one of those who seem tall when they choose +to do so. He had a clear blue eye and fair complexion. In repose +there was nothing to attract attention to him; but when excited, his +expression was so animated, his eye was so brilliant, and his figure so +full of life, that he became another man. + +Having told him that I had not been successful in procuring the +information he desired, but would bring it to him on the following +morning, he thanked me, and asked me to sit down. It passed through my +mind, that, as he had lost a friend and was a stranger in the place, I +might be of use to him. Perhaps he needed consolation, and it was my +office to sympathize with the bereaved. So I sat down. But it did not +appear that he was disposed to seek for such comfort, or engage in such +discourse. Once or twice I endeavored, but without success, to turn +the conversation to his presumed loss. I asked him if the death of his +friend was sudden. + +"Very," he replied. + +"Was he a relative?" + +"Distant," said he, and changed the subject. + +It is twenty-seven years since these events took place, and I do not +pretend to give the conversation very accurately, but what occurred was +very much like this. It was a dialogue between Booth and myself, the +third party saying not a word during the evening. Mr. Booth first asked +me to take a glass of wine, or a cigar, both of which I declined. + +"Well," said he, "let me try to entertain you in another way. When you +came in, I was reading aloud to my friend. Perhaps you would like to +hear me read." + +"I certainly should," said I. + +"What shall I read?" + +"Whatever you like best. What you like to read I shall like to hear." + +"Then suppose I attempt Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner'? Have you time for +it? It is long." + +"Yes, I should like it much." + +So he read aloud the whole of this magnificent poem. I have listened to +Macready, to Edmund Kean, to Rachel, to Jenny Lind, to Fanny Kemble,--to +Webster, Clay, Everett, Harrison Gray Otis,--to Dr. Channing, Henry +Ward Beecher, Wendell Phillips, Father Taylor, Ralph Waldo Emerson,--to +Victor Hugo, Coquerel, Lacordaire; but none of them affected me as I was +affected by this reading. I forgot the place where I was, the motive of +my coming, the reader himself. I knew the poem almost by heart, yet I +seemed never to have heard it before. I was by the side of the doomed +mariner. I was the wedding-guest, listening to his story, held by his +glittering eye. I was with him in the storm, among the ice, beneath +the hot and copper sky. Booth became so absorbed in his reading, so +identified with the poem, that his tone and manner were saturated with +a feeling of reality. He actually thought himself the mariner,--so I am +persuaded,--while he was reading. As the poem proceeded, and we plunged +deeper and deeper into its mystic horrors, the actual world receded +into a dim, indefinable distance. The magnetism of this marvellous +interpreter had caught up himself, and me with him, into Dreamland, from +which we gently descended at the end of Part VI., and "the spell was +snapt." + + "And now, all in my own countree, + I stood on the firm land,"-- + +returned from a voyage into the inane. Again I found myself sitting in +the little hotel parlor, by the side of a man with glittering eye, with +a third somebody on the other side of the table. + +I drew a long breath. + +Booth turned over the leaves of the volume. It was the collected Works +of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats. + +"Did you ever read," said he, "Shelley's argument against the use of +animal food, at the end of 'Queen Mab'?" + +"Yes, I have read it." + +"And what do you think of the argument?" + +"Ingenious, but not satisfactory." + +"To me it _is_ satisfactory. I have long been convinced that it is wrong +to take the life of an animal for our pleasure. I eat no animal food. +There is my supper,"--pointing to the plate of bread. "And, indeed," +continued he, "I think the Bible favors this view. Have you a Bible with +you?" + +I had not. + +Booth thereupon rang the bell, and when the boy presented himself, +called for a Bible. _Garçon_ disappeared, and came back soon with a +Bible on a waiter. + +Our tragedian took the book, and proceeded to argue his point by means +of texts selected skilfully here and there, from Genesis to Revelation. +He referred to the fact that it was not till after the Deluge men were +allowed, "for the hardness of their hearts," as he maintained, to eat +meat. But in the beginning it was not so; only herbs were given to man, +at first, for food. He quoted the Psalmist (Psalm civ. 14) to show that +man's food came from the earth, and was the green herb; and contended +that the reason why Daniel and his friends were fairer and fatter than +the children who ate their portion of meat was that they ate only pulse +(Daniel i. 12-15). These are all of his Scriptural arguments which I now +recall; but I thought them very ingenious at the time. + +The argument took some time. Then he recited one or two pieces bearing +on the same subject, closing with Byron's Lines to his Newfoundland Dog. + +"In connection with that poem," he continued, "a singular event once +happened to me. I was acting in Petersburg, Virginia. My theatrical +engagement was just concluded, and I dined with a party of friends +one afternoon before going away. We sat after dinner, singing songs, +reciting poetry, and relating anecdotes. At last I recited those lines +of Byron on his dog. I was sitting by the fireplace, my feet resting +against the jamb, and a single candle was burning on the mantel. It had +become dark. Just as I came to the end of the poem,-- + + "'To mark a friend's remains these stones arise, + I never knew but one, and here he lies,'-- + +"my foot slipped down the jamb, and struck a _dog_, who was lying +beneath. The dog sprang up, howled, and ran out of the room, and at the +same moment the candle went out. I asked whose dog it was. No one knew. +No one had seen the dog till that moment. Perhaps you will smile at me, +Sir, and think me superstitious,--but I could not but think that the +animal was brought there by _occult sympathy_." + +Having uttered these oracular words in a very solemn tone, Booth rose, +and, taking one of the candles, said to me, "Would you like to look at +the remains?" + +I assented. Asking our silent friend to excuse us, he led me into an +adjoining chamber. I looked toward a bed in the corner of the room, +expecting to see a corpse. There was none there. But Booth went to +another corner of the room, where, spread out upon a large sheet, I +saw--what do you suppose, dear reader? + +_About a bushel of Wild Pigeons!_ + +Booth knelt down by the side of the birds, and with every evidence of +sincere affliction began to mourn over them. He took them up in his +hands tenderly, and pressed them to his heart. For a few moments he +seemed to forget my presence. For this I was glad, for it gave me a +little time to recover from my astonishment, and to consider rapidly +what it might mean. As I look back now, and think of the oddity of +the situation, I rather wonder at my own self-possession. It was a +sufficiently trying position. At first I thought it was a hoax, an +intentional piece of practical fun, of which I was to be the object. But +even in the moment allowed me to think, I decided that this could not +be. For I recalled the long and elaborate Bible argument against taking +the life of animals, which could hardly have been got up for the +occasion. I considered also that as a joke it would be too poor in +itself, and too unworthy a man like Booth. So I decided that it was a +sincere conviction,--an idea, exaggerated perhaps to the borders of +monomania, of the sacredness of all life. And I determined to treat +the conviction with respect, as all sincere and religious convictions +deserve to be treated. + +I also saw the motive for this particular course of action. During the +week immense quantities of the Wild Pigeon (Passenger Pigeon, _Columba +Migratoria_) had been flying over the city, in their way to and from +a _roost_ in the neighborhood. These birds had been slaughtered by +myriads, and were for sale by the bushel at the corners of every street +in the city. Although all the birds which could be killed by man made +the smallest impression on the vast multitude contained in one of these +flocks,--computed by Wilson to consist of more than twenty-two hundred +millions,--yet to Booth the destruction seemed wasteful, wanton, and +from his point of view was a wilful and barbarous murder. + +Such a sentiment was perhaps an exaggeration; still I could not but +feel a certain sympathy with its humanity. It was an error in a good +direction. If an insanity, it was better than the cold, heartless sanity +of most men. By the time, therefore, that Booth was ready to speak, I +was prepared to answer. + +"You see," said he, "these innocent victims of man's barbarity. I wish +to testify in some public way against this wanton destruction of life. +And I wish you to help me. Will you?" + +"Hardly," I replied. "I expected something very different from this, +when I received your note. I did not come to see you expecting to be +called to assist at the funeral solemnities of birds." + +"Nor did I send for you," he answered. "I merely wrote to ask about the +lot in the grave-yard. But now you are here, why not help me? Do you +fear the laugh of man?" + +"No," I returned. "If I agreed with you in regard to this subject, I +might, perhaps, have the courage to act out my convictions. But I do +not look at it as you do. There is no reason, then, why I should have +anything to do with it. I respect your convictions, but do not share +them." + +"That is fair," he said. "I cannot ask anything more. I am obliged to +you for coming to see me. My intention was to purchase a place in the +burial-ground, and have them put into a coffin and carried in a hearse. +I might do it without any one's knowing that it was not a human body. +Would you assist me, then?" + +"But if no one _knew_ it," I said, "how would it be a public testimony +against the destruction of life?" + +"True, it would not. Well, I will consider what to do. Perhaps I may +wish to bury them privately in some garden." + +"In that case," said I, "I will find you a place in the grounds of some +of my friends." + +He thanked me, and I took my leave,--exceedingly astonished and amused +by the incident, but also interested in the earnestness of conviction of +the man. + +I heard, in a day or two, that he had actually purchased a lot in the +cemetery, two or three miles below the city, that he had had a coffin +made, hired a hearse and carriage, and had gone through all the +solemnity of a regular funeral. For several days he continued to visit +the grave of his little friends, and mourned over them with a grief +which did not seem at all theatrical. + +Meantime he acted every night at the theatre, and my friends told me +that his acting was of unsurpassed excellence. A vein of insanity began, +however, to mingle in his conduct. His fellow-actors were afraid of +him. He looked terribly in earnest on the stage; and when he went behind +the scenes, he spoke to no one, but sat still, looking sternly at the +ground. During the day he walked about town, giving apples to the +horses, and talked to the drivers, urging them to treat their animals +with kindness. + +An incident happened, one day, which illustrated still further his +sympathy for the humbler races of animals. One of the sudden freshets +which come to the Ohio, caused commonly by heavy rains melting the snow +in the valleys of its tributary streams, had raised the river to an +unusual height. The yellow torrent rushed along its channel, bearing +on its surface logs, boards, and the _debris_ of fences, shanties, and +lumber-yards. A steamboat, forced by the rapid current against the stone +landing, had been stove, and lay a wreck on the bottom, with the water +rising rapidly around it. A horse had been left, fastened on the boat, +and it looked as if he would be drowned. Booth was on the landing, and +he took from his pocket twenty dollars, and offered it to any one who +would get to the boat and cut the halter, so that the horse might swim +ashore. Some one was found to do it, and the horse's life was saved. + +So this golden thread of human sympathy with all creatures whom God had +made ran through the darkening moods of his genius. He had well laid to +heart the fine moral of his favorite poem,--that + + "He prayeth well, who loveth well + Both man, and bird, and beast. + + "He prayeth best, who loveth best + All things, both great and small; + For the dear God, who loveth us, + He made and loveth all." + +In a week or less the tendency to derangement in Booth became more +developed. One night, when he was to act, he did not appear; nor could +he be found at his lodgings. He did not come home that night. Next +morning he was found in the woods, several miles from the city, +wandering through the snow. He was taken care of. His derangement proved +to be temporary, and his reason returned in a few days. He soon left the +city. But before he went away he sent to me the following note, which I +copy from the original faded paper, now lying before me:-- + +"--_Theatre_, + +"January 18, 1834. + +"MY DEAR SIR, + +"Allow me to return you my grateful acknowledgments for your prompt and +benevolent attention to my request last Wednesday night. Although I am +convinced _your_ ideas and _mine_ thoroughly coincide as to the _real_ +cause of man's bitter degradation, yet I fear human means to redeem him +are now fruitless. The Fire must burn, and Prometheus endure his agony. +The Pestilence of Asia must come again, ere the savage will be taught +humanity. May _you_ escape! God bless you, Sir! + +"J.B. BOOTH." + +Certainly I may call this "an odd adventure" for a young minister, +less than six months in his profession. But it left in my mind a very +pleasant impression of this great tragedian. It may be asked why he came +to me, the youngest and newest clergyman in the place. The reason he +gave me himself. I was a Unitarian. He said he had more sympathy with me +on that account, as he was of Jewish descent, and a Monotheist. + + + + +MY OUT-DOOR STUDY. + + +The noontide of the summer-day is past, when all Nature slumbers, and +when the ancients feared to sing, lest the great god Pan should be +awakened. Soft changes, the gradual shifting of every shadow on every +leaf, begin to show the waning hours. Ineffectual thunder-storms have +gathered and gone by, hopelessly defeated. The floating-bridge is +trembling and resounding beneath the pressure of one heavy wagon, and +the quiet fishermen change their places to avoid the tiny ripple that +glides stealthily to their feet above the half-submerged planks. Down +the glimmering lake there are miles of silence and still waters and +green shores, overhung with a multitudinous and scattered fleet of +purple and golden clouds, now furling their idle sails and drifting away +into the vast harbor of the South. Voices of birds, hushed first by +noon and then by possibilities of tempest, cautiously begin once more, +leading on the infinite melodies of the June afternoon. As the freshened +air invites them forth, so the smooth and stainless water summons us. +"Put your hand upon the oar," says Charon in the old play to Bacchus, +"and you shall hear the sweetest songs." The doors of the boathouse +swing softly open, and the slender wherry, like a water-snake, steals +silently in the wake of the dispersing clouds. + +The woods are hazy, as if the warm sunbeams had melted in among the +interstices of the foliage and spread a soft film throughout the whole. +The sky seems to reflect the water, and the water the sky; both are +roseate with color, both are darkened with clouds, and between them +both, as the boat recedes, the floating-bridge hangs suspended, with its +motionless fishermen and its moving team. The wooded islands are poised +upon the lake, each belted with a paler tint of softer wave. The air +seems fine and palpitating; the drop of an oar in a distant row-lock, +the sound of a hammer on a dismantled boat, pass into some region of +mist and shadows, and form a metronome for delicious dreams. + +Every summer I launch my boat to seek some realm of enchantment beyond +all the sordidness and sorrow of earth, and never yet did I fail to +ripple with my prow at least the outskirts of those magic waters. What +spell has fame or wealth to enrich this midday blessedness with a joy +the more? Yonder barefoot boy, as he drifts silently in his punt beneath +the drooping branches of yonder vine-clad bank, has a bliss which no +Astor can buy with money, no Seward conquer with votes,--which yet is +no monopoly of his, and to which time and experience only add a more +subtile and conscious charm. The rich years were given us to increase, +not to impair, these cheap felicities. Sad or sinful is the life of +that man who finds not the heavens bluer and the waves more musical in +maturity than in childhood. Time is a severe alembic of youthful joys, +no doubt; we exhaust book after book and leave Shakespeare unopened; we +grow fastidious in men and women; all the rhetoric, all the logic, we +fancy we have heard before; we have seen the pictures, we have listened +to the symphonies: but what has been done by all the art and literature +of the world towards describing one summer day? The most exhausting +effort brings us no nearer to it than to the blue sky which is its dome; +our words are shot up against it like arrows, and fall back helpless. +Literary amateurs go the tour of the globe to renew their stock of +materials, when they do not yet know a bird or a bee or a blossom beside +their homestead-door; and in the hour of their greatest success they +have not an horizon to their life so large as that of yon boy in his +punt. All that is purchasable in the capitals of the world is not to be +weighed in comparison with the simple enjoyment that may be crowded into +one hour of sunshine. What can place or power do here? "Who could be +before me, though the palace of Caesar cracked and split with emperors, +while I, sitting in silence on a cliff of Rhodes, watched the sun as he +swung his golden censer athwart the heavens?" + +It is pleasant to observe a sort of confused and latent recognition of +all this in the instinctive sympathy which is always rendered to any +indication of out-door pursuits. How cordially one sees the eyes of +all travellers turn to the man who enters the railroad-station with +a fowling-piece in hand, or the boy with water-lilies! There is a +momentary sensation of the freedom of the woods, a whiff of oxygen for +the anxious money-changers. How agreeably sounds the news--to all +but his creditors--that the lawyer or the merchant has locked his +office-door and gone fishing! The American temperament needs at this +moment nothing so much as that wholesome training of semi-rural life +which reared Hampden and Cromwell to assume at one grasp the sovereignty +of England, and which has ever since served as the foundation of +England's greatest ability. The best thoughts and purposes seem ordained +to come to human beings beneath the open sky, as the ancients fabled +that Pan found the goddess Ceres when he was engaged in the chase, whom +no other of the gods could find when seeking seriously. The little I +have gained from colleges and libraries has certainly not worn so well +as the little I learned in childhood of the habits of plant, bird, and +insect. That "weight and sanity of thought," which Coleridge so finely +makes the crowning attribute of Wordsworth, is in no way so well matured +and cultivated as in the society of Nature. + +There may be extremes and affectations, and Mary Lamb declared that +Wordsworth held it doubtful if a dweller in towns had a soul to be +saved. During the various phases of transcendental idealism among +ourselves, in the last twenty years, the love of Nature has at times +assumed an exaggerated and even a pathetic aspect, in the morbid +attempts of youths and maidens to make it a substitute for vigorous +thought and action,--a lion endeavoring to dine on grass and green +leaves. In some cases this mental chlorosis reached such a height as +almost to nauseate one with Nature, when in the society of the victims; +and surfeited companions felt inclined to rush to the treadmill +immediately, or get chosen on the Board of Selectmen, or plunge into any +conceivable drudgery, in order to feel that there was still work enough +in the universe to keep it sound and healthy. But this, after all, was +exceptional and transitory, and our American life still needs, beyond +all things else, the more habitual cultivation of out-door habits. + +Probably the direct ethical influence of natural objects may be +overrated. Nature is not didactic, but simply healthy. She helps +everything to its legitimate development, but applies no goads, and +forces on us no sharp distinctions. Her wonderful calmness, refreshing +the whole soul, must aid both conscience and intellect in the end, but +sometimes lulls both temporarily, when immediate issues are pending. The +waterfall cheers and purifies infinitely, but it marks no moments, has +no reproaches for indolence, forces to no immediate decision, offers +unbounded to-morrows, and the man of action must tear himself away, when +the time comes, since the work will not be done for him. "The natural +day is very calm, and will hardly reprove our indolence." + +And yet the more bent any man is upon action, the more profoundly he +needs the calm lessons of Nature to preserve his equilibrium. The +radical himself needs nothing so much as fresh air. The world is called +conservative; but it is far easier to impress a plausible thought on the +complaisance of others than to retain an unfaltering faith in it for +ourselves. The most dogged reformer distrusts himself every little +while, and says inwardly, like Luther, "Art thou alone wise?" So he is +compelled to exaggerate, in the effort to hold his own. The community is +bored by the conceit and egotism of the innovators; so it is by that of +poets and artists, orators and statesmen; but if we knew how heavily +ballasted all these poor fellows need to be, to keep an even keel amid +so many conflicting tempests of blame and praise, we should hardly +reproach them. But the simple enjoyments of out-door life, costing next +to nothing, tend to equalize all vexations. What matter, if the Governor +removes you from office? he cannot remove you from the lake; and if +readers or customers will not bite, the pickerel will. We must keep +busy, of course; yet we cannot transform the world except very slowly, +and we can best preserve our patience in the society of Nature, who does +her work almost as imperceptibly as we. + +And for literary training, especially, the influence of natural beauty +is simply priceless Under the present educational systems, we need +grammars and languages far less than a more thorough out-door experience. +On this flowery bank, on this ripple-marked shore, are the true literary +models. How many living authors have ever attained to writing a single +page which could be for one moment compared, for the simplicity and +grace of its structure, with this green spray of wild woodbine or yonder +white wreath of blossoming clematis? A finely organized sentence should +throb and palpitate like the most delicate vibrations of the summer +air. We talk of literature as if it were a mere matter of rule and +measurement, a series of processes long since brought to mechanical +perfection: but it would be less incorrect to say that it all lies +in the future; tried by the out-door standard, there is as yet no +literature, but only glimpses and guideboards; no writer has yet +succeeded in sustaining, through more than some single occasional +sentence, that fresh and perfect charm. If by the training of a lifetime +one could succeed in producing one continuous page of perfect cadence, +it would be a life well spent, and such a literary artist would fall +short of Nature's standard in quantity only, not in quality. + +It is one sign of our weakness, also, that we commonly assume Nature to +be a rather fragile and merely ornamental thing, and suited for a model +of the graces only. But her seductive softness is the last climax of +magnificent strength. The same mathematical law winds the leaves around +the stem and the planets round the sun. The same law of crystallization +rules the slight-knit snow-flake and the hard foundations of the earth. +The thistle-down floats secure upon the same summer zephyrs that are +woven into the tornado. The dew-drop holds within its transparent cell +the same electric fire which charges the thunder-cloud. In the softest +tree or the airiest waterfall, the fundamental lines are as lithe and +muscular as the crouching haunches of a leopard; and without a pencil +vigorous enough to render these, no mere mass of foam or foliage, +however exquisitely finished, can tell the story. Lightness of touch is +the crowning test of power. + +Yet Nature does not work by single spasms only. That chestnut spray is +not an isolated and exhaustive effort of creative beauty: look upward +and see its sisters rise with pile above pile of fresh and stately +verdure, till tree meets sky in a dome of glorious blossom, the whole as +perfect as the parts, the least part as perfect as the whole. Studying +the details, it seems as if Nature were a series of costly fragments +with no coherency,--as if she would never encourage us to do anything +systematically, would tolerate no method but her own, and yet had none +of her own,--were as abrupt in her transitions from oak to maple as +the heroine who went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf to make an +apple-pie; while yet there is no conceivable human logic so close +and inexorable as her connections. How rigid, how flexible are, for +instance, the laws of perspective! If one could learn to make his +statements as firm and unswerving as the horizon-line,--his continuity +of thought as marked, yet as unbroken, as yonder soft gradations by +which the eye is lured upward from lake to wood, from wood to hill, from +hill to heavens,--what more bracing tonic could literary culture demand? +As it is, Art misses the parts, yet does not grasp the whole. + +Literature also learns from Nature the use of materials: either to +select only the choicest and rarest, or to transmute coarse to fine by +skill in using. How perfect is the delicacy with which the woods and +fields are kept, throughout the year! All these millions of living +creatures born every season, and born to die; yet where are the dead +bodies? We never see them. Buried beneath the earth by tiny nightly +sextons, sunk beneath the waters, dissolved into the air, or distilled +again and again as food for other organizations,--all have had their +swift resurrection. Their existence blooms again in these violet-petals, +glitters in the burnished beauty of these golden beetles, or enriches +the veery's song. It is only out of doors that even death and decay +become beautiful. The model farm, the most luxurious house, have their +regions of unsightliness; but the fine chemistry of Nature is constantly +clearing away all its impurities before our eyes, and yet so delicately +that we never suspect the process. The most exquisite work of literary +art exhibits a certain crudeness and coarseness, when we turn to it from +Nature,--as the smallest cambric needle appears rough and jagged, +when compared through the magnifier with the tapering fineness of the +insect's sting. + +Once separated from Nature, literature recedes into metaphysics, or +dwindles into novels. How ignoble seems the current material of London +literary life, for instance, compared with the noble simplicity which, a +half-century ago, made the Lake Country an enchanted land forever! Is +it worth a voyage to England to sup with Thackeray in the Pot Tavern? +Compare the "enormity of pleasure" which De Quincey says Wordsworth +derived from the simplest natural object with the serious protest of +Wilkie Collins against the affectation of caring about Nature at all. +"Is it not strange", says this most unhappy man, "to see how little real +hold the objects of the natural world amidst which we live can gain on +our hearts and minds? We go to Nature for comfort in joy and sympathy +in trouble, only in books.... What share have the attractions of Nature +ever had in the pleasurable or painful interests and emotions of +ourselves or our friends?... There is surely a reason for this want of +inborn sympathy between the creature and the creation around it." + +Leslie says of "the most original landscape-painter he knew," meaning +Constable, that, whenever he sat down in the fields to sketch, he +endeavored to forget that he had ever seen a picture. In literature this +is easy, the descriptions are so few and so faint. When Wordsworth was +fourteen, he stopped one day by the wayside to observe the dark outline +of an oak against the western sky; and he says that he was at that +moment struck with "the infinite variety of natural appearances which +had been unnoticed by the poets of any age or country," so far as he was +acquainted with them, and "made a resolution to supply in some degree +the deficiency." He spent a long life in studying and telling these +beautiful wonders; and yet, so vast is the sum of them, they seem almost +as undescribed before, and men to be still as content with vague or +conventional representations. On this continent, especially, people +fancied that all must be tame and second-hand, everything long since +duly analyzed and distributed and put up in appropriate quotations, and +nothing left for us poor American children but a preoccupied universe. +And yet Thoreau camps down by Walden Pond and shows us that absolutely +nothing in Nature has ever yet been described,--not a bird nor a berry +of the woods, nor a drop of water, nor a spicula of ice, nor summer, nor +winter, nor sun, nor star. + +Indeed, no person can portray Nature from any slight or transient +acquaintance. A reporter cannot step out between the sessions of a +caucus and give a racy abstract of the landscape. It may consume the +best hours of many days to certify for one's self the simplest out-door +fact, but every such piece of knowledge is intellectually worth the +time. Even the driest and barest book of Natural History is good and +nutritious, so far as it goes, if it represents genuine acquaintance; +one can find summer in January by poring over the Latin catalogues +of Massachusetts plants and animals in Hitchcock's Report. The most +commonplace out-door society has the same attraction. Every one of those +old outlaws who haunt our New England ponds and marshes, water-soaked +and soakers of something else,--intimate with the pure fluid in that +familiarity which breeds contempt,--has yet a wholesome side when you +explore his knowledge of frost and freshet, pickerel and musk-rat, and +is exceedingly good company while you can keep him beyond scent of the +tavern. Any intelligent farmer's boy can give you some narrative +of out-door observation which, so far as it goes, fulfils Milton's +definition of poetry, "simple, sensuous, passionate." He may not write +sonnets to the lake, but he will walk miles to bathe in it; he may not +notice the sunsets, but he knows where to search for the black-bird's +nest. How surprised the school-children looked, to be sure, when the +Doctor of Divinity from the city tried to sentimentalize, in addressing +them, about "the bobolink in the woods"! They knew that the darling of +the meadow had no more personal acquaintance with the woods than was +exhibited by the preacher. + +But the preachers are not much worse than the authors. The prosaic +Buckle, to be sure, admits that the poets have in all time been +consummate observers, and that their observations have been as valuable +as those of the men of science; and yet we look even to the poets +for very casual and occasional glimpses of Nature only, not for any +continuous reflection of her glory. Thus, Chaucer is perfumed with early +spring; Homer resounds like the sea; in the Greek Anthology the sun +always shines on the fisherman's cottage by the beach; we associate the +Vishnu Purana with lakes and houses, Keats with nightingales in forest +dim, while the long grass waving on the lonely heath is the last +memorial of the fading fame of Ossian. Of course Shakspeare's +omniscience included all natural phenomena; but the rest, great or +small, associate themselves with some special aspects, and not with the +daily atmosphere. Coming to our own times, one must quarrel with Ruskin +as taking rather the artist's view of Nature, selecting the available +bits and dealing rather patronizingly with the whole; and one is tempted +to charge even Emerson, as he somewhere charges Wordsworth, with not +being of a temperament quite liquid and musical enough to admit the full +vibration of the great harmonics. The three human foster-children who +have been taken nearest into Nature's bosom, perhaps,--an odd triad, +surely, for the whimsical nursing mother to select,--are Wordsworth, +Bettine Brentano, and Thoreau. Is it yielding to an individual +preference too far, to say, that there seems almost a generic difference +between these three and any others,--however wide be the specific +differences among themselves,--to say that, after all, they in their +several paths have attained to an habitual intimacy with Nature, and the +rest have not? + +Yet what wonderful achievements have some of the fragmentary artists +performed! Some of Tennyson's word-pictures, for instance, bear almost +as much study as the landscape. One afternoon, last spring, I had been +walking through a copse of young white birches,--their leaves scarce yet +apparent,--over a ground delicate with wood-anemones, moist and mottled +with dog's-tooth-violet leaves, and spangled with the delicate clusters +of that shy creature, the Claytonia or Spring Beauty. All this was +floored with last year's faded foliage, giving a singular bareness +and whiteness to the foreground. Suddenly, as if entering a cavern, I +stepped through the edge of all this, into a dark little amphitheatre +beneath a hemlock-grove, where the afternoon sunlight struck broadly +through the trees upon a tiny stream and a miniature swamp,--this last +being intensely and luridly green, yet overlaid with the pale gray of +last year's reeds, and absolutely flaming with the gayest yellow light +from great clumps of cowslips. The illumination seemed perfectly weird +and dazzling; the spirit of the place appeared live, wild, fantastic, +almost human. Now open your Tennyson:-- + + "_And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire + in swamps and hollows gray_." + +Our cowslip is the English marsh-marigold. + +History is a grander poetry, and it is often urged that the features of +Nature in America must seem tame because they have no legendary wreaths +to decorate them. It is perhaps hard for those of us who are untravelled +to appreciate how densely even the ruralities of Europe are overgrown +with this ivy of associations. Thus, it is fascinating to hear that +the great French forests of Fontainebleau and St. Germain are full of +historic trees,--the oak of Charlemagne, the oak of Clovis, of Queen +Blanche, of Henri Quatre, of Sully,--the alley of Richelieu,--the +rendezvous of St. Hérem,--the star of Lamballe and of the Princesses, +a star being a point where several paths or roads converge. It is said +that every topographical work upon these forests has turned out a +history of the French monarchy. Yet surely we lose nearly as much as +we gain by this subordination of imperishable beauty to the perishable +memories of man. It may not be wholly unfortunate, that, in the +absence of those influences which come to older nations from ruins and +traditions, we must go more directly to Nature. Art may either rest upon +other Art, or it may rest directly upon the original foundation; the one +is easier, the other more valuable. Direct dependence on Nature leads +to deeper thought and affords the promise of far fresher results. Why +should I wish to fix my study in Heidelberg Castle, when I possess the +unexhausted treasures of this out-door study here? + +The walls of my study are of ever-changing verdure, and its roof and +floor of ever-varying blue. I never enter it without a new heaven above +and new thoughts below. The lake has no lofty shores and no level ones, +but a series of undulating hills, fringed with woods from end to end. +The profaning axe may sometimes come near the margin, and one may hear +the whetting of the scythe; but no cultivated land abuts upon the main +lake, though beyond the narrow woods there are here and there glimpses +of rye-fields that wave like rolling mist. Graceful islands rise from +the quiet waters,--Grape Island, Grass Island, Sharp Pine Island, +and the rest, baptized with simple names by departed generations of +farmers,--all wooded and bushy and trailing with festoonery of vines. +Here and there the banks are indented, and one may pass beneath drooping +chestnut-leaves and among alder-branches into some secret sanctuary of +stillness. The emerald edges of these silent tarns are starred with +dandelions which have strayed here, one scarce knows how, from their +foreign home; the buck-bean perchance grows in the water, or the Rhodora +fixes here one of its shy camping-places, or there are whole skies of +lupine on the sloping banks;--the catbird builds its nest beside us, +the yellow-bird above, the wood-thrush sings late and the whippoorwill +later, and sometimes the scarlet tanager and his golden-haired bride +send a gleam of the tropics through these leafy aisles. + +Sometimes I rest in a yet more secluded place amid the waters, where +a little wooded island holds a small lagoon in the centre, just wide +enough for the wherry to turn round. The entrance lies between two +hornbeam trees, which stand close to the brink, spreading over it their +thorn-like branches and their shining leaves. Within there is perfect +shelter; the island forms a high circular bank, like a coral reef, and +shuts out the wind and the passing boats; the surface is paved with +leaves of lily and pond-weed, and the boughs above are full of song. No +matter what white caps may crest the blue waters of the pond, which here +widens out to its broadest reach, there is always quiet here. A few +oar-strokes distant lies a dam or water-break, where the whole lake is +held under control by certain distant mills, towards which a sluggish +stream goes winding on through miles of water-lilies. The old gray +timbers of the dam are the natural resort of every boy or boatman within +their reach; some come in pursuit of pickerel, some of turtles, some of +bull-frogs, some of lilies, some of bathing. It is a good place for the +last desideratum, and it is well to leave here the boat tethered to +the vines which overhang the cove, and perform a sacred and Oriental +ablution beneath the sunny afternoon. + +Oh, radiant and divine afternoon! The poets profusely celebrate silver +evenings and golden mornings; but what floods on floods of beauty steep +the earth and gladden it in the first hours of day's decline! The +exuberant rays reflect and multiply themselves from every leaf and +blade; the cows lie upon the hill-side, with their broad peaceful backs +painted into the landscape; the hum of insects, "tiniest bells on the +garment of silence," fills the air; the gorgeous butterflies doze upon +the thistle-blooms till they almost fall from the petals; the air is +full of warm fragrance from the wild-grape clusters; the grass is +burning hot beneath the naked feet in sunshine, and cool as water in the +shade. Diving from this overhanging beam,--for Ovid evidently meant that +Midas to be cured must dive,-- + + "Subde caput, corpusque simul, simul elue + crinem,"-- + +one finds as kindly a reception from the water as in childish days, and +as safe a shelter in the green dressing-room afterwards; and the patient +wherry floats near by, in readiness for a reëmbarkation. + +Here a word seems needed, unprofessionally and non-technically, upon +boats,--these being the sole seats provided for occupant or visitor in +my out-door study. When wherries first appeared in this peaceful inland +community, the novel proportions occasioned remark. Facetious bystanders +inquired sarcastically whether that thing were expected to carry +more than one,--plainly implying by labored emphasis that it would +occasionally be seen tenanted by even less than that number. +Transcendental friends inquired, with more refined severity, if the +proprietor expected to _meditate_ in that thing? This doubt at least +seemed legitimate. Meditation seems to belong to sailing rather than +rowing; there is something so gentle and unintrusive in gliding +effortless beneath overhanging branches and along the trailing edges of +clematis thickets;--what a privilege of fairy-land is this noiseless +prow, looking in and out of one flowery cove after another, scarcely +stirring the turtle from his log, and leaving no wake behind! It seemed +as if all the process of rowing had too much noise and bluster, and as +if the sharp slender wherry, in particular, were rather too pert and +dapper to win the confidence of the woods and waters. Time has dispelled +the fear. As I rest poised upon the oars above some submerged shallow, +diamonded with ripple-broken sunbeams, the fantastic Notonecta or +water-boatman rests upon his oars below, and I see that his proportions +anticipated the wherry, as honeycombs antedated the problem of the +hexagonal cell. While one of us rests, so does the other; and when one +shoots away rapidly above the water, the other does the same beneath. +For the time, as our motions seem the same, so with our motives,--my +enjoyment certainly not less, with the conveniences of humanity thrown +in. + +But the sun is declining low. The club-boats are out, and from island +to island in the distance these shafts of youthful life shoot swiftly +across. There races some swift Atalanta, with no apple to fall in her +path but some soft and spotted oak-apple from an overhanging tree; there +the Phantom, with a crew white and ghostlike in the distance, glimmers +in and out behind the headlands, while yonder wherry glides lonely +across the smooth expanse. The voices of all these oarsmen are dim and +almost inaudible, being so far away; but one would scarcely wish that +distance should annihilate the ringing laughter of these joyous +girls, who come gliding, in a safe and heavy boat, they and some blue +dragon-flies together, around yonder wooded point. + +Many a summer afternoon have I rowed joyously with these same maidens +beneath these steep and garlanded shores; many a time have they pulled +the heavy four-oar, with me as coxswain at the helm,--the said patient +steersman being oft-times insulted by classical allusions from rival +boats, satirically comparing him to an indolent Venus drawn by doves, +while the oarswomen in turn were likened to Minerva with her feet upon +a tortoise. Many were the disasters in the earlier days of feminine +training;--first of toilet, straw hats blowing away, hair coming down, +hair-pins strewing the floor of the boat, gloves commonly happening to +be off at the precise moment of starting, and trials of speed impaired +by somebody's oar catching in somebody's dress-pocket. Then the actual +difficulties of handling the long and heavy oars,--the first essays +at feathering, with a complicated splash of air and water, as when a +wild-duck in rising swims and flies together, and uses neither element +handsomely,--the occasional pulling of a particularly vigorous stroke +through the atmosphere alone, and at other times the compensating +disappearance of nearly the whole oar beneath the liquid surface, as if +some Uncle Kühleborn had grasped it, while our Undine by main strength +tugged it from the beguiling wave. But with what triumphant abundance +of merriment were these preliminary disasters repaid, and how soon +outgrown! What "time" we sometimes made, when nobody happened to be near +with a watch, and how successfully we tossed oars in saluting, when the +world looked on from a pic-nic! We had our applauses, too. To be sure, +owing to the age and dimensions of the original barge, we could not +command such a burst of enthusiasm as when the young men shot by us in +their race-boat;--but then, as one of the girls justly remarked, we +remained longer in sight. + +And many a day, since promotion to a swifter craft, have they rowed with +patient stroke down the lovely lake, still attended by their guide, +philosopher, and coxswain,--along banks where herds of young birch-trees +overspread the sloping valley and ran down in a blaze of sunshine to the +rippling water,--or through the Narrows, where some breeze rocked the +boat till trailing shawls and ribbons were water-soaked, and the bold +little foam would even send a daring drop over the gunwale, to play at +ocean,--or to Davis's Cottage, where a whole parterre of lupines bloomed +to the water's edge, as if relics of some ancient garden-bower of a +forgotten race,--or to the dam by Lily Pond, there to hunt among the +stones for snakes' eggs, each empty shell cut crosswise, where the +young creatures had made their first fierce bite into the universe +outside,--or to some island, where white violets bloomed fragrant and +lonely, separated by relentless breadths of water from their shore-born +sisters, until mingled in their visitors' bouquets,--then up the lake +homeward again at nightfall, the boat all decked with clematis, clethra, +laurel, azalea, or water-lilies, while purple sunset clouds turned forth +their golden linings for drapery above our heads, and then unrolling +sent northward long roseate wreaths to outstrip our loitering speed, and +reach the floating-bridge before us. + +It is nightfall now. One by one the birds grow silent, and the soft +dragon-flies, children of the day, are fluttering noiselessly to their +rest beneath the under sides of drooping leaves. From shadowy coves the +evening air is thrusting forth a thin film of mist to spread a white +floor above the waters. The gathering darkness deepens the quiet of the +lake, and bids us, at least for this time, to forsake it. "_De soir +fontaines, de matin montaignes_," says the old French proverb,--Morning +for labor, evening for repose. + + + + +A SERMON IN A STONE. + + + Harry Jones and Tom Murdock got down from the cars, + Near a still country village, and lit their cigars. + They had left the hot town for a stroll and a chat, + And wandered on looking at this and at that,-- + Plumed grass with pink clover that waltzed in the breeze, + Ruby currants in gardens, and pears on the trees,-- + Till a green church-yard showed them its sun-checkered gloom, + And in they both went and sat down on a tomb. + The dead name was mossy; the letters were dim; + But they spelled out "James Woodson," and mused upon him, + Till Harry said, poring, "I wish I could know + What manner of man used the bones down below." + Answered Tom,--as he took his cigar from his lip + And tapped off the ashes that crusted the tip, + His quaint face somewhat shaded with awe and with mystery,-- + "You shall hear, if you will, the main points in his story."-- + "You don't mean you knew him? You could not! See here! + Why, this, since he died, is the thirtieth year!"-- + "I never saw him, nor the place where he lay, + Nor heard of nor thought of the man, till to-day; + But I'll tell you his story, and leave it to you + If 'tis not ten to one that my story is true. + + "The man whose old mould underneath us is hid + Meant a great deal more good and less harm than he did. + He knelt in yon church 'mid the worshipping throng, + And vowed to do right, but went out to do wrong; + For, going up of a Sunday to look at the gate + Of Saints' Alley, he stuck there and found it was strait, + And slid back of a Monday to walk in the way + That is popular, populous, smooth-paved, and gay. + The flesh it was strong, but the spirit was faint. + He first was too young, then too old, for a saint. + He wished well by his neighbors, did well by himself, + And hoped for salvation, and struggled for pelf; + And easy Tomorrow still promised to pay + The still swelling debts of his bankrupt Today, + Till, bestriding the deep sudden chasm that is fixed + The sunshiny world and the shadowy betwixt, + His Today with a pale wond'ring face stood alone, + And over the border Tomorrow had flown. + So after went he, his accounts as he could + To settle and make his loose reckonings good, + And left us his tomb and his skeleton under,-- + Two boons to his race,--to sit down on and ponder. + Heaven help him! Yet heaven, I fear, he hath lost. + Here lies his poor dust; but where cries his poor ghost? + We know not. Perhaps we shall see by-and-by, + When out of our coffins we get, you and I." + + + + +AGNES OF SORRENTO. + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE INTERVIEW. + + +The dreams of Agnes, on the night after her conversation with the monk +and her singular momentary interview with the cavalier, were a strange +mixture of images, indicating the peculiarities of her education and +habits of daily thought. + +She dreamed that she was sitting alone in the moonlight, and heard some +one rustling in the distant foliage of the orange-groves, and from them +came a young man dressed in white of a dazzling clearness like sunlight; +large pearly wings fell from his shoulders and seemed to shimmer with +a phosphoric radiance; his forehead was broad and grave, and above it +floated a thin, tremulous tongue of flame; his eyes had that deep, +mysterious gravity which is so well expressed in all the Florentine +paintings of celestial beings: and yet, singularly enough, this +white-robed, glorified form seemed to have the features and lineaments +of the mysterious cavalier of the evening before,--the same deep, +mournful, dark eyes, only that in them the light of earthly pride had +given place to the calm, strong gravity of an assured peace,--the same +broad forehead,--the same delicately chiselled features, but elevated +and etherealized, glowing with a kind of interior ecstasy. He seemed to +move from the shadow of the orange-trees with a backward floating of his +lustrous garments, as if borne on a cloud just along the surface of +the ground; and in his hand he held the lily-spray, all radiant with a +silvery, living light, just as the monk had suggested to her a divine +flower might be. Agnes seemed to herself to hold her breath and marvel +with a secret awe, and, as often happens in dreams, she wondered to +herself,--"Was this stranger, then, indeed, not even mortal, not even a +king's brother, but an angel?--How strange," she said to herself, "that +I should never have seen it in his eyes!" Nearer and nearer the vision +drew, and touched her forehead with the lily, which seemed dewy and +icy cool; and with the contact it seemed to her that a delicious +tranquillity, a calm ecstasy, possessed her soul, and the words were +impressed in her mind, as if spoken in her ear, "The Lord hath sealed +thee for his own!"--and then, with the wild fantasy of dreams, she saw +the cavalier in his wonted form and garments, just as he had kneeled to +her the night before, and he said, "Oh, Agnes! Agnes! little lamb of +Christ, love me and lead me!"--and in her sleep it seemed to her that +her heart stirred and throbbed with a strange, new movement in answer to +those sad, pleading eyes, and thereafter her dream became more troubled. + +The sea was beginning now to brighten with the reflection of the coming +dawn in the sky, and the flickering fire of Vesuvius was waxing sickly +and pale; and while all the high points of rocks were turning of a rosy +purple, in the weird depths of the gorge were yet the unbroken shadows +and stillness of night. But at the earliest peep of dawn the monk had +risen, and now, as he paced up and down the little garden, his morning +hymn mingled with Agnes's dreams,--words strong with all the nerve of +the old Latin, which, when they were written, had scarcely ceased to be +the spoken tongue of Italy. + + Splendor paternae gloriae, + De luce lucem proferens, + Lux lucis et fons luminis + Dies diem illuminans! + + "Votis vocemus et Patrem, + Patrem potentis gratiae, + Patrem perennis gloriae: + Culpam releget lubricam! + + "Confirmet actus strenuos, + Dentes retundat invidi, + Casus secundet asperos, + Donet gerendi gratiam! + + "Christus nobis sit cibus, + Potusque noster sit fides: + Laeti bibamus sobriam + Ebrietatem spiritus! + + "Laetus dies hic transeat, + Pudor sit ut diluculum, + Fides velut meridies, + Crepusculum mens nesciat!"[A] + +[Footnote A: + + Splendor of the Father's glory, + Bringing light with cheering ray, + Light of light and fount of brightness, + Day, illuminating day! + + In our prayers we call thee Father, + Father of eternal glory, + Father of a mighty grace: + Heal our errors, we implore thee! + + Form our struggling, vague desires; + Power of spiteful spirits break; + Help us in life's straits, and give us + Grace to suffer for thy sake! + + Christ for us shall be our food; + Faith in him our drink shall be; + Hopeful, joyful, let us drink + Soberness of ecstasy! + + Joyful shall our day go by, + Purity its dawning light, + Faith its fervid noontide glow, + And for us shall be no night!] + +The hymn in every word well expressed the character and habitual pose +of mind of the singer, whose views of earthly matters were as different +from the views of ordinary working mortals as those of a bird, as he +flits and perches and sings, must be from those of the four-footed +ox who plods. The "_sobriam ebrietatem spiritus_" was with him first +constitutional, as a child of sunny skies, and then cultivated by every +employment and duty of the religious and artistic career to which from +childhood he had devoted himself. If perfect, unalloyed happiness has +ever existed in this weary, work-day world of ours, it has been in the +bosoms of some of those old religious artists of the Middle Ages, whose +thoughts grew and flowered in prayerful shadows, bursting into thousands +of quaint and fanciful blossoms on the pages of missal and breviary. In +them the fine life of color, form, and symmetry, which is the gift of +the Italian, formed a rich stock on which to graft the true vine of +religious faith, and rare and fervid were the blossoms. + +For it must be remarked in justice of the Christian religion, that the +Italian people never rose to the honors of originality in the beautiful +arts till inspired by Christianity. The Art of ancient Rome was a +second-hand copy of the original and airy Greek,--often clever, but +never vivid and self-originating. It is to the religious Art of the +Middle Ages, to the Umbrian and Florentine schools particularly, that we +look for the peculiar and characteristic flowering of the Italian mind. +When the old Greek Art revived again in modern Europe, though at first +it seemed to add richness and grace to this peculiar development, it +smothered and killed it at last, as some brilliant tropical parasite +exhausts the life of the tree it seems at first to adorn. Raphael and +Michel Angelo mark both the perfected splendor and the commenced decline +of original Italian Art; and just in proportion as their ideas grew less +Christian and more Greek did the peculiar vividness and intense flavor +of Italian nationality pass away from them. They became again like the +ancient Romans, gigantic imitators and clever copyists, instead of +inspired kings and priests of a national development. + +The tones of the monk's morning hymn awakened both Agnes and Elsie, and +the latter was on the alert instantly. + +"Bless my soul!" she said, "brother Antonio has a marvellous power of +lungs; he is at it the first thing in the morning. It always used to be +so; when he was a boy, he would wake me up before daylight, singing. + +"He is happy, like the birds," said Agnes, "because he flies near +heaven." + +"Like enough: he was always a pious boy; his prayers and his pencil were +ever uppermost: but he was a poor hand at work: he could draw you an +olive-tree on paper; but set him to dress it, and any fool would have +done better." + +The morning rites of devotion and the simple repast being over, Elsie +prepared to go to her business. It had occurred to her that the visit +of her brother was an admirable pretext for withdrawing Agnes from the +scene of her daily traffic, and of course, as she fondly supposed, +keeping her from the sight of the suspected admirer. + +Neither Agnes nor the monk had disturbed her serenity by recounting the +adventure of the evening before. Agnes had been silent from the habitual +reserve which a difference of nature ever placed between her and her +grandmother,--a difference which made confidence on her side an utter +impossibility. There are natures which ever must be silent to other +natures, because there is no common language between them. In the same +house, at the same board, sharing the same pillow even, are those +forever strangers and foreigners whose whole stock of intercourse is +limited to a few brief phrases on the commonest material wants of life, +and who, as soon as they try to go farther, have no words that are +mutually understood. + +"Agnes," said her grandmother, "I shall not need you at the stand +to-day. There is that new flax to be spun, and you may keep company with +your uncle. I'll warrant me, you'll be glad enough of that!" + +"Certainly I shall," said Agnes, cheerfully. "Uncle's comings are my +holidays." + +"I will show you somewhat further on my Breviary," said the monk. +"Praised be God, many new ideas sprang up in my mind last night, and +seemed to shoot forth in blossoms. Even my dreams have often been made +fruitful in this divine work." + +"Many a good thought comes in dreams," said Elsie; "but, for my part, I +work too hard and sleep too sound to get much that way." + +"Well, brother," said Elsie, after breakfast, "you must look well after +Agnes to-day; for there be plenty of wolves go round, hunting these +little lambs." + +"Have no fear, sister," said the monk, tranquilly; "the angels have +her in charge. If our eyes were only clear-sighted, we should see that +Christ's little ones are never alone." + +"All that is fine talk, brother; but I never found that the angels +attended to any of my affairs, unless I looked after them pretty sharp +myself; and as for girls, the dear Lord knows they need a legion apiece +to look after them. What with roystering fellows and smooth-tongued +gallants, and with silly, empty-headed hussies like that Giulietta, one +has much ado to keep the best of them straight. Agnes is one of the +best, too,--a well-brought up, pious, obedient girl, and industrious +as a bee. Happy is the husband who gets her. I would I knew a man good +enough for her." + +This conversation took place while Agnes was in the garden picking +oranges and lemons, and filling the basket which her grandmother was to +take to the town. The silver ripple of a hymn that she was singing came +through the open door; it was part of a sacred ballad in honor of Saint +Agnes:-- + + "Bring me no pearls to bind my hair, + No sparkling jewels bring to me! + Dearer by far the blood-red rose + That speaks of Him who died for me. + + "Ah! vanish every earthly love, + All earthly dreams forgotten be! + My heart is gone beyond the stars, + To live with Him who died for me." + +"Hear you now, sister," said the monk, "how the Lord keeps the door of +this maiden's heart? There is no fear of her; and I much doubt, sister, +whether you would do well to interfere with the evident call this child +hath to devote herself wholly to the Lord." + +"Oh, you talk, brother Antonio, who never had a child in your life, +and don't know how a mother's heart warms towards her children and her +children's children! The saints, as I said, must be reasonable, and +oughtn't to be putting vocations into the head of an old woman's only +staff and stay; and if they oughtn't to, why, then, they won't. Agnes is +a pious child, and loves her prayers and hymns; and so she will love her +husband, one of these days, as an honest woman should." + +"But you know, sister, that the highest seats in Paradise are reserved +for the virgins who follow the Lamb." + +"Maybe so," said Elsie, stiffly; "but the lower seats are good enough +for Agnes and me. For my part, I would rather have a little comfort as I +go along, and put up with less in Paradise, (may our dear Lady bring us +safely there!) say I." + +So saying, Elsie raised the large, square basket of golden fruit to +her head, and turned her stately figure towards the scene of her daily +labors. + +The monk seated himself on the garden-wall, with his portfolio by his +side, and seemed busily sketching and retouching some of his ideas. +Agnes wound some silvery-white flax round her distaff, and seated +herself near him under an orange-tree; and while her small fingers were +twisting the flax, her large, thoughtful eyes were wandering off on the +deep blue sea, pondering over and over the strange events of the day +before, and the dreams of the night. + +"Dear child," said the monk, "have you thought more of what I said to +you?" + +A deep blush suffused her cheek as she answered,-- + +"Yes, uncle; and I had a strange dream last night." + +"A dream, my little heart? Come, then, and tell it to its uncle. Dreams +are the hushing of the bodily senses, that the eyes of the Spirit may +open." + +"Well, then," said Agnes, "I dreamed that I sat pondering as I did last +evening in the moonlight, and that an angel came forth from the trees"-- + +"Indeed!" said the monk, looking up with interest; "what form had he?" + +"He was a young man, in dazzling white raiment, and his eyes were deep +as eternity, and over his forehead was a silver flame, and he bore a +lily-stalk in his hand, which was like what you told of, with light in +itself." + +"That must have been the holy Gabriel," said the monk, "the angel that +came to our blessed Mother. Did he say aught?" + +"Yes, he touched my forehead with the lily, and a sort of cool rest and +peace went all through me, and he said, 'The Lord hath sealed thee for +his own!'" + +"Even so," said the monk, looking up, and crossing himself devoutly, "by +this token I know that my prayers are answered." + +"But, dear uncle," said Agnes, hesitating and blushing painfully, "there +was one singular thing about my dream,--this holy angel had yet a +strange likeness to the young man that came here last night, so that I +could not but marvel at it." + +"It may be that the holy angel took on him in part this likeness to show +how glorious a redeemed soul might become, that you might be encouraged +to pray. The holy Saint Monica thus saw the blessed Augustine standing +clothed in white among the angels while he was yet a worldling and +unbeliever, and thereby received the grace to continue her prayers for +thirty years, till she saw him a holy bishop. This is a sure sign that +this young man, whoever he may be, shall attain Paradise through your +prayers. Tell me, dear little heart, is this the first angel thou hast +seen?" + +"I never dreamed of them before. I have dreamed of our Lady, and Saint +Agnes, and Saint Catharine of Siena; and sometimes it seemed that they +sat a long time by my bed, and sometimes it seemed that they took me +with them away to some beautiful place where the air was full of music, +and sometimes they filled my hands with such lovely flowers that when I +waked I was ready to weep that they could no more be found. Why, dear +uncle, do _you_ see angels often?" + +"Not often, dear child, but sometimes a little glimpse. But you should +see the pictures of our holy Father Angelico, to whom the angels +appeared constantly; for so blessed was the life he lived, that it was +more in heaven than on earth. He would never cumber his mind with the +things of this world, and would not paint for money, nor for prince's +favor; nor would he take places of power and trust in the Church, or +else, so great was his piety, they had made a bishop of him; but he kept +ever aloof and walked in the shade. He used to say, 'They that would do +Christ's work must walk with Christ.' His pictures of angels are indeed +wonderful, and their robes are of all dazzling colors, like the rainbow. +It is most surely believed among us that he painted to show forth what +he saw in heavenly visions." + +"Ah!" said Agnes, "how I wish I could see some of these things!" + +"You may well say so, dear child. There is one picture of Paradise +painted on gold, and there you may see our Lord in the midst of the +heavens crowning his blessed Mother, and all the saints and angels +surrounding; and the colors are so bright that they seem like the sunset +clouds,--golden, and rosy, and purple, and amethystine, and green like +the new, tender leaves of spring: for, you see, the angels are the +Lord's flowers and birds that shine and sing to gladden his Paradise, +and there is nothing bright on earth that is comparable to them,--so +said the blessed Angelico, who saw them. And what seems worthy of note +about them is their marvellous lightness, that they seem to float as +naturally as the clouds do, and their garments have a divine grace of +motion like vapor that curls and wavers in the sun. Their faces, too, +are most wonderful; for they seem so full of purity and majesty, and +withal humble, with an inexpressible sweetness; for, beyond all others, +it was given to the holy Angelico to paint the immortal beauty of the +soul." + +"It must be a great blessing and favor for you, dear uncle, to see all +these things," said Agnes; "I am never tired of hearing you tell of +them." + +"There is one little picture," said the monk, "wherein he hath painted +the death of our dear Lady; and surely no mortal could ever conceive +anything like her sweet dying face, so faint and weak and tender that +each man sees his own mother dying there, yet so holy that one feels +that it can be no other than the mother of our Lord; and around her +stand the disciples mourning; but above is our blessed Lord himself, who +receives the parting spirit, as a tender new-born babe, into his bosom: +for so the holy painters represented the death of saints, as of a birth +in which each soul became a little child of heaven." + +"How great grace must come from such pictures!" said Agnes. "It seems +to me that the making of such holy things is one of the most blessed of +good works.--Dear uncle," she said, after a pause, "they say that this +deep gorge is haunted by evil spirits, who often waylay and bewilder the +unwary, especially in the hours of darkness." + +"I should not wonder in the least," said the monk; "for you must know, +child, that our beautiful Italy was of old so completely given up and +gone over to idolatry that even her very soil casts up fragments of +temples and stones that have been polluted. Especially around these +shores there is scarcely a spot that hath not been violated in all times +by vilenesses and impurities such as the Apostle saith it is a shame +even to speak of. These very waters cast up marbles and fragments of +colored mosaics from the halls which were polluted with devil-worship +and abominable revellings; so that, as the Gospel saith that the evil +spirits cast out by Christ walk through waste places, so do they cling +to these fragments of their old estate." + +"Well, uncle, I have longed to consecrate the gorge to Christ by having +a shrine there, where I might keep a lamp burning." + +"It is a most pious thought, child." + +"And so, dear uncle, I thought that you would undertake the work. There +is one Pietro hereabout who is a skilful worker in stone, and was a +playfellow of mine,--though of late grandmamma has forbidden me to talk +with him,--and I think he would execute it under your direction." + +"Indeed, my little heart, it shall be done," said the monk, cheerfully; +"and I will engage to paint a fair picture of our Lady to be within; and +I think it would be a good thought to have a pinnacle on the outside, +where should stand a statue of Saint Michael with his sword. Saint +Michael is a brave and wonderful angel, and all the devils and vile +spirits are afraid of him. I will set about the devices to-day." + +And cheerily the good monk began to intone a verse of an old hymn,-- + + "Sub tutela Michaelis, + Pax in terra, pax in coelis."[B] + +[Footnote B: + + "'Neath Saint Michael's watch is given + Peace on earth and peace in heaven."] + +In such talk and work the day passed away to Agnes; but we will not say +that she did not often fall into deep musings on the mysterious visitor +of the night before. Often while the good monk was busy at his drawing, +the distaff would droop over her knee and her large dark eyes become +intently fixed on the ground, as if she were pondering some absorbing +subject. + +Little could her literal, hard-working grandmother, or her artistic, +simple-minded uncle, or the dreamy Mother Theresa, or her austere +confessor, know of the strange forcing process which they were all +together uniting to carry on in the mind of this sensitive young girl. +Absolutely secluded by her grandmother's watchful care from any actual +knowledge and experience of real life, she had no practical tests by +which to correct the dreams of that inner world in which she delighted +to live and move, and which was peopled with martyrs, saints, and +angels, whose deeds were possible or probable only in the most exalted +regions of devout poetry. + +So she gave her heart at once and without reserve to an enthusiastic +desire for the salvation of the stranger, whom Heaven, she believed, had +directed to seek her intercessions; and when the spindle drooped from +her hand, and her eyes became fixed on vacancy, she found herself +wondering who he might really be, and longing to know yet a little more +of him. + +Towards the latter part of the afternoon, a hasty messenger came to +summon her uncle to administer the last rites to a man who had just +fallen from a building, and who, it was feared, might breathe his last +unshriven. + +"Dear daughter, I must hasten and carry Christ to this poor sinner," +said the monk, hastily putting all his sketches and pencils into her +lap. "Have a care of these till I return,--that is my good little one!" + +Agnes carefully arranged the sketches and put them into the book, and +then, kneeling before the shrine, began prayers for the soul of the +dying man. + +She prayed long and fervently, and so absorbed did she become, that she +neither saw nor heard anything that passed around her. + +It was, therefore, with a start of surprise, as she rose from prayer, +that she saw the cavalier sitting on one end of the marble sarcophagus, +with an air so composed and melancholy that he might have been taken for +one of the marble knights that sometimes are found on tombs. + +"You are surprised to see me, dear Agnes," he said, with a calm, slow +utterance, like a man who has assumed a position he means fully to +justify; "but I have watched day and night, ever since I saw you, to +find one moment to speak with you alone." + +"My Lord," said Agnes, "I humbly wait your pleasure. Anything that a +poor maiden may rightly do I will endeavor, in all loving duty." + +"Whom do you take me for, Agnes, that you speak thus?" said the +cavalier, smiling sadly. + +"Are you not the brother of our gracious King?" said Agnes. + +"No, dear maiden; and if the kind promise you lately made me is founded +on this mistake, it may be retracted." + +"No, my Lord," said Agnes,--"though I now know not who you are, yet if +in any strait or need you seek such poor prayers as mine, God forbid I +should refuse them!" + +"I am, indeed, in strait and need, Agnes; the sun does not shine on a +more desolate man than I am,--one more utterly alone in the world; there +is no one left to love me. Agnes, can you not love me a little?--let it +be ever so little, it shall content me." + +It was the first time that words of this purport had ever been addressed +to Agnes; but they were said so simply, so sadly, so tenderly, that they +somehow seemed to her the most natural and proper things in the world +to be said; and this poor handsome knight, who looked so earnest and +sorrowful,--how could she help answering, "Yes"? From her cradle she had +always loved everybody and every thing, and why should an exception be +made in behalf of a very handsome, very strong, yet very gentle and +submissive human being, who came and knocked so humbly at the door +of her heart? Neither Mary nor the saints had taught her to be +hard-hearted. + +"Yes, my Lord," she said, "you may believe that I will love and pray for +you; but now you must leave me, and not come here any more,--because +grandmamma would not be willing that I should talk with you, and it +would be wrong to disobey her, she is so very good to me." + +"But, dear Agnes," began the cavalier, approaching her, "I have many +things to say to you,--I have much to tell you." + +"But I know grandmamma would not be willing," said Agnes; "indeed, you +must not come here any more." + +"Well, then," said the stranger, "at least you will meet me at some +time,--tell me only where." + +"I cannot,--indeed, I cannot," said Agnes, distressed and embarrassed. +"Even now, if grandmamma knew you were here, she would be so angry." + +"But how can you pray for me, when you know nothing of me?" + +"The dear Lord knoweth you," said Agnes; "and when I speak of you, He +will know what you need." + +"Ah, dear child, how fervent is your faith! Alas for me, I have lost the +power of prayer! I have lost the believing heart my mother gave me,--my +dear mother who is now in heaven." + +"Ah, how can that be?" said Agnes. "Who could lose faith in so dear a +Lord as ours, and so loving a mother?" + +"Agnes, dear little lamb, you know nothing of the world; and I should be +most wicked to disturb your lovely peace of soul with any sinful doubts. +Oh, Agnes, Agnes, I am most miserable, most unworthy!" + +"Dear Sir, should you not cleanse your soul by the holy sacrament of +confession, and receive the living Christ within you? For He says, +'Without me ye can do nothing.'" + +"Oh, Agnes, sacrament and prayer are not for such as me! It is only +through your pure prayers I can hope for grace." + +"Dear Sir, I have an uncle, a most holy man, and gentle as a lamb. He is +of the convent San Marco in Florence, where there is a most holy prophet +risen up." + +"Savonarola?" said the cavalier, with flashing eyes. + +"Yes, that is he. You should hear my uncle talk of him, and how blessed +his preaching has been to many souls. Dear Sir, come some time to my +uncle." + +At this moment the sound of Elsie's voice was heard ascending the path +to the gorge outside, talking with Father Antonio, who was returning. + +Both started, and Agnes looked alarmed. + +"Fear nothing, sweet lamb," said the cavalier; "I am gone." + +He kneeled and kissed the hand of Agnes, and disappeared at one bound +over the parapet on the side opposite that which they were approaching. + +Agnes hastily composed herself, struggling with that half-guilty +feeling which is apt to weigh on a conscientious nature that has been +unwittingly drawn to act a part which would be disapproved by those +whose good opinion it habitually seeks. The interview had but the more +increased her curiosity to know the history of this handsome stranger. +Who, then, could he be? What were his troubles? She wished the interview +could have been long enough to satisfy her mind on these points. From +the richness of his dress, from his air and manner, from the poetry and +the jewel that accompanied it, she felt satisfied, that, if not what she +supposed, he was at least nobly born, and had shone in some splendid +sphere whose habits and ways were far beyond her simple experiences. She +felt towards him somewhat of the awe which a person of her condition in +life naturally felt toward that brilliant aristocracy which in those +days assumed the state of princes, and the members of which were +supposed to look down on common mortals from as great a height as the +stars regard the humblest flowers of the field. + +"How strange," she thought, "that he should think so much of me! What +can he see in me? And how can it be that a great lord, who speaks so +gently and is so reverential to a poor girl, and asks prayers so humbly, +can be so wicked and unbelieving as he says he is? Dear God, it cannot +be that he is an unbeliever; the great Enemy has been permitted to try +him, to suggest doubts to him, as he has to holy saints before now. How +beautifully he spoke about his mother!--tears glittered in his eyes +then,--ah, there must be grace there after all!" + +"Well, my little heart," said Elsie, interrupting her reveries, "have +you had a pleasant day?" + +"Delightful, grandmamma," said Agnes, blushing deeply with +consciousness. + +"Well," said Elsie, with satisfaction, "one thing I know,--I've +frightened off that old hawk of a cavalier with his hooked nose. I +haven't seen so much as the tip of his shoe-tie to-day. Yesterday he +made himself very busy around our stall; but I made him understand that +you never would come there again till the coast was clear." + +The monk was busily retouching the sketch of the Virgin of the +Annunciation. He looked up, and saw Agnes standing gazing towards the +setting sun, the pale olive of her cheek deepening into a crimson +flush. His head was too full of his own work to give much heed to the +conversation that had passed, but, looking at the glowing face, he said +to himself,-- + +"Truly, sometimes she might pass for the rose of Sharon as well as the +lily of the valley!" + +The moon that evening rose an hour later than the night before, yet +found Agnes still on her knees before the sacred shrine, while Elsie, +tired, grumbled at the draft on her sleeping-time. + +"Enough is as good as a feast," she remarked between her teeth; still +she had, after all, too much secret reverence for her grandchild's piety +openly to interrupt her. But in those days, as now, there were the +material and the spiritual, the souls who looked only on things that +could be seen, touched, and tasted, and souls who looked on the things +that were invisible. + +Agnes was pouring out her soul in that kind of yearning, passionate +prayer possible to intensely sympathetic people, in which the +interests and wants of another seem to annihilate for a time personal +consciousness, and make the whole of one's being seem to dissolve in an +intense solicitude for something beyond one's self. In such hours prayer +ceases to be an act of the will, and resembles more some overpowering +influence which floods the soul from without, bearing all its faculties +away on its resistless tide. + +Brought up from infancy to feel herself in a constant circle of +invisible spiritual agencies, Agnes received this wave of intense +feeling as an impulse inspired and breathed into her by some celestial +spirit, that thus she should be made an interceding medium for a soul in +some unknown strait or peril. For her faith taught her to believe in an +infinite struggle of intercession in which all the Church Visible and +Invisible were together engaged, and which bound them in living bonds of +sympathy to an interceding Redeemer, so that there was no want or woe +of human life that had not somewhere its sympathetic heart, and its +never-ceasing prayer before the throne of Eternal Love. Whatever may be +thought of the actual truth of this belief, it certainly was far more +consoling than that intense individualism of modern philosophy which +places every soul alone in its life-battle,--scarce even giving it a God +to lean upon. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE CONFESSIONAL. + + +The reader, if a person of any common knowledge of human nature, +will easily see the direction in which a young, inexperienced, and +impressible girl would naturally be tending under all the influences +which we perceive to have come upon her. + +But in the religious faith which Agnes professed there was a modifying +force, whose power both for good and evil can scarcely be estimated. + +The simple Apostolic direction, "Confess your faults one to another," +and the very natural need of personal pastoral guidance and assistance +to a soul in its heavenward journey, had in common with many other +religious ideas been forced by the volcanic fervor of the Italian nature +into a certain exaggerated proposition. Instead of brotherly confession +one to another, or the pastoral sympathy of a fatherly elder, the +religious mind of the day was instructed in an awful mysterious +sacrament of confession, which gave to some human being a divine right +to unlock the most secret chambers of the soul, to scrutinize and direct +its most veiled and intimate thoughts, and, standing in God's stead, to +direct the current of its most sensitive and most mysterious emotions. + +Every young aspirant for perfection in the religious life had to +commence by an unreserved surrender of the whole being in blind faith at +the feet of some such spiritual director, all whose questions must +be answered, and all whose injunctions obeyed, as from God himself. +Thenceforward was to be no soul-privacy, no retirement, nothing too +sacred to be expressed, too delicate to be handled and analyzed. In +reading the lives of those ethereally made and moulded women who +have come down to our day canonized as saints in the Roman Catholic +communion, one too frequently gets the impression of most regal natures, +gifted with all the most divine elements of humanity, but subjected to +a constant unnatural pressure from the ceaseless scrutiny and ungenial +pertinacity of some inferior and uncomprehending person invested with +the authority of a Spiritual Director. + +That there are advantages attending this species of intimate direction, +when wisely and skilfully managed, cannot be doubted. Grovelling and +imperfect natures have often thus been lifted up and carried in the arms +of superior wisdom and purity. The confession administered by a Fenelon +or a Francis de Sales was doubtless a beautiful and most invigorating +ordinance; but the difficulty in its actual working is the rarity of +such superior natures,--the fact, that the most ignorant and most +incapable may be invested with precisely the same authority as the most +intelligent and skilful. + +He to whom the faith of Agnes obliged her to lay open her whole soul, +who had a right with probing-knife and lancet to dissect out all the +finest nerves and fibres of her womanly nature, was a man who had been +through all the wild and desolating experiences incident to a dissipated +and irregular life in those turbulent days. + +It is true, that he was now with most stringent and earnest solemnity +striving to bring every thought and passion into captivity to the spirit +of his sacred vows; but still, when a man has once lost that unconscious +soul-purity which exists in a mind unscathed by the fires of passion, no +after-tears can weep it back again. No penance, no prayer, no anguish +of remorse can give back the simplicity of a soul that has never been +stained. + +If Padre Francesco had not failed to make those inquiries into the +character of Agnes's mysterious lover which he assumed to be necessary +as a matter of pastoral faithfulness. + +It was not difficult for one possessing the secrets of the confessional +to learn the real character of any person in the neighborhood, and it +was with a kind of bitter satisfaction which rather surprised himself +that the father learned enough ill of the cavalier to justify his using +every possible measure to prevent his forming any acquaintance with +Agnes. He was captain of a band of brigands, and, of course, in array +against the State; he was excommunicated, and, of course, an enemy of +the Church. What but the vilest designs could be attributed to such a +man? Was he not a wolf prowling round the green, secluded pastures where +as yet the Lord's lamb had been folded in unconscious innocence? + +Father Francesco, when he next met Agnes at the confessional, put such +questions as drew from her the whole account of all that had passed +between her and the stranger. The recital on Agnes's part was perfectly +translucent and pure, for she had said no word and had had no thought +that brought the slightest stain upon her soul. Love and prayer had been +the prevailing habit of her life, and in promising to love and pray she +had had no worldly or earthly thought. The language of gallantry, or +even of sincere passion, had never reached her ear; but it had always +been as natural to her to love every human being as for a plant +with tendrils to throw them round the next plant, and therefore she +entertained the gentle guest who had lately found room in her heart +without a question or a scruple. + +As Agnes related her childlike story of unconscious faith and love, her +listener felt himself strangely and bitterly agitated. It was a vision +of ignorant purity and unconsciousness rising before him, airy and +glowing as a child's soap-bubble, which one touch might annihilate; but +he felt a strange remorseful tenderness, a yearning admiration, at its +unsubstantial purity. There is something pleading and pitiful in the +simplicity of perfect ignorance,--a rare and delicate beauty in its +freshness, like the morning-glory cup, which, once withered by the heat, +no second morning can restore. Agnes had imparted to her confessor, by +a mysterious sympathy, something like the morning freshness of her own +soul; she had redeemed the idea of womanhood from gross associations, +and set before him a fair ideal of all that female tenderness and purity +may teach to man. Her prayers--well he believed in them,--but be set +his teeth with a strange spasm of inward passion,--when he thought +of her prayers and love being given to another. He tried to persuade +himself that this was only the fervor of pastoral zeal against a vile +robber who had seized the fairest lamb of the sheepfold; but there was +an intensely bitter, miserable feeling connected with it, that scorched +and burned his higher aspirations like a stream of lava running among +fresh leaves and flowers. + +The conflict of his soul communicated a severity of earnestness to +his voice and manner which made Agnes tremble, as he put one probing +question after another, designed to awaken some consciousness of sin +in her soul. Still, though troubled and distressed by his apparent +disapprobation, her answers came always clear, honest, unfaltering, like +those of one who _could_ not form an idea of evil. + +When the confession was over, he came out of his recess to speak +with Agnes a few words face to face. His eyes had a wild and haggard +earnestness, and a vivid hectic flush on either cheek told how extreme +was his emotion. Agnes lifted her eyes to his with an innocent wondering +trouble and an appealing confidence that for a moment wholly unnerved +him. He felt a wild impulse to clasp her in his arms; and for a moment +it seemed to him he would sacrifice heaven and brave hell, if he could +for one moment hold her to his heart, and say that he loved her,--her, +the purest, fairest, sweetest revelation of God's love that had ever +shone on his soul,--her, the only star, the only flower, the only +dew-drop of a burning, barren, weary life. It seemed to him that it was +not the longing, gross passion, but the outcry of his whole nature for +something noble, sweet, and divine. + +But he turned suddenly away with a sort of groan, and, folding his robe +over his face, seemed engaged in earnest prayer. Agnes looked at him +awe-struck and breathless. + +"Oh, my father!" she faltered, "what have I done?" + +"Nothing, my poor child," said the father, suddenly turning toward her +with recovered calmness and dignity; "but I behold in thee a fair lamb +whom the roaring lion is seeking to devour. Know, my daughter, that I +have made inquiries concerning this man of whom you speak, and find that +he is an outlaw and a robber and a heretic,--a vile wretch stained +by crimes that have justly drawn down upon him the sentence of +excommunication from our Holy Father the Pope." + +Agnes grew deadly pale at this announcement. + +"Can it be possible?" she gasped. "Alas! what dreadful temptations have +driven him to such sins?" + +"Daughter, beware how you think too lightly of them, or suffer his good +looks and flattering words to blind you to their horror. You must from +your heart detest him as a vile enemy." + +"Must I, my father?" + +"Indeed you must." + +"But if the dear Lord loved us and died for us when we were his enemies, +may we not pity and pray for unbelievers? Oh, say, my dear father, is it +not allowed to us to pray for all sinners, even the vilest?" + +"I do not say that you may not, my daughter," said the monk, too +conscientious to resist the force of this direct appeal; "but, +daughter," he added, with an energy that alarmed Agnes, "you must watch +your heart; you must not suffer your interest to become a worldly love: +remember that you are chosen to be the espoused of Christ alone." + +While the monk was speaking thus, Agnes fixed on him her eyes with an +innocent mixture of surprise and perplexity,--which gradually deepened +into a strong gravity of gaze, as if she were looking through him, +through all visible things into some far-off depth of mysterious +knowledge. + +"My Lord will keep me," she said; "my soul is safe in His heart as a +little bird in its nest; but while I love Him, I cannot help loving +everybody whom He loves, even His enemies: and, father, my heart prays +within me for this poor sinner, whether I will or no; something within +me continually intercedes for him." + +"Oh, Agnes! Agnes! blessed child, pray for me also," said the monk, with +a sudden burst of emotion which perfectly confounded his disciple. He +hid his face with his hands. + +"My blessed father!" said Agnes, "how could I deem that holiness like +yours had any need of my prayers?" + +"Child! child! you know nothing of me. I am a miserable sinner, tempted +of devils, in danger of damnation." + +Agnes stood appalled at this sudden burst, so different from the rigid +and restrained severity of tone in which the greater part of the +conversation had been conducted. She stood silent and troubled; while +he, whom she had always regarded with such awful veneration, seemed +shaken by some internal whirlwind of emotion whose nature she could not +comprehend. + +At length Father Francesco raised his head, and recovered his wonted +calm severity of expression. + +"My daughter," he said, "little do the innocent lambs of the flock know +of the dangers and conflicts through which the shepherds must pass who +keep the Lord's fold. We have the labors of angels laid upon us, and we +are but men. Often we stumble, often we faint, and Satan takes advantage +of our weakness. I cannot confer with you now as I would; but, my child, +listen to my directions. Shun this young man; let nothing ever lead +you to listen to another word from him; you must not even look at him, +should you meet, but turn away your head and repeat a prayer. I do not +forbid you to practise the holy work of intercession for his soul, but +it must be on these conditions. + +"My father," said Agnes, "you may rely on my obedience"; and, kneeling, +she kissed his hand. + +He drew it suddenly away, with a gesture of pain and displeasure. + +"Pardon a sinful child this liberty," said Agnes. + +"You know not what you do," said the father, hastily. "Go, my +daughter,--go, at once; I will confer with you some other time"; and +hastily raising his hand in an attitude of benediction, he turned and +went into the confessional. + +"Wretch! hypocrite! whited sepulchre!" he said to himself,--"to warn +this innocent child against a sin that is all the while burning in my +own bosom! Yes, I do love her,--I do! I, that warn her against earthly +love, I would plunge into hell itself to win hers! And yet, when I know +that the care of her soul is only a temptation and a snare to me, I +cannot, will not give her up! No, I cannot!--no, I will not! Why should +I _not_ love her? Is she not pure as Mary herself? Ah, blessed is he +whom such a woman leads! And I--I--have condemned myself to the society +of swinish, ignorant, stupid monks,--I must know no such divine souls, +no such sweet communion! Help me, blessed Mary!--help a miserable +sinner!" + +Agnes left the confessional perplexed and sorrowful. The pale, proud, +serious face of the cavalier seemed to look at her imploringly, and she +thought of him now with the pathetic interest we give to something noble +and great exposed to some fatal danger. "Could the sacrifice of my whole +life," she thought, "rescue this noble soul from perdition, then I shall +not have lived in vain. I am a poor little girl; nobody knows whether +I live or die. He is a strong and powerful man, and many must stand or +fall with him. Blessed be the Lord that gives to his lowly ones a +power to work in secret places! How blessed should I be to meet him in +Paradise, all splendid as I saw him in my dream! Oh, that would be worth +living for,--worth dying for!" + + * * * * * + + +THE AQUARIUM. + + +The sumptuous abode of Licinius Crassus echoes with his sighs and +groans. His children and slaves respect his profound sorrow, and leave +him with intelligent affection to solitude,--that friend of great grief, +so grateful to the afflicted soul, because tears can flow unwitnessed. +Alas! the favorite sea-eel of Crassus is dead, and it is uncertain +whether Crassus can survive it! + +This sensitive Roman caused his beloved fish to be buried with great +magnificence: he raised a monument to its memory, and never ceased to +mourn for it. So say Macrobius and Aelian. + +This man, we are told, who displayed so little tenderness towards his +servants, had an extraordinary weakness concerning his fine sea-eels. He +passed his life beside the superb fish-pond, where he lovingly +fattened them from his own hand. Nor was his fondness for pisciculture +exceptional in his times. The fish-pond, to raise and breed the +finest varieties of fish, was as necessary an adjunct to a complete +establishment as a barn-yard or hen-coop to a modern farmer or rural +gentleman. Wherever there was a well-appointed Roman villa, it contained +a _piscina_; while many gardens near the sea could boast also a +_vivarium_, which, in this connection, means an oyster-bed. + +Fish-ponds, of course, varied with the wealth, the ingenuity, and the +taste of their owners. Many were of vast size and of heterogeneous +contents. The costly _Muraena_, the carp, the turbot, and many other +varieties, sported at will in the great inclosures prepared for them. +The greater part of the Roman emperors were very fond of sea-eels. +The greedy Vitellius, growing tired of this dish, would at last, as +Suetonius assures us, eat only the soft roe; and numerous vessels +ploughed the seas in order to obtain it for him. The family of Licinius +took their surname of Muraena from these fish, in order thus to +perpetuate their silly affection for them. The love of fish became a +real mania, and the _Murcena Helena_ was worshipped. + +Hortensius, who possessed three splendid country-seats, constructed in +the grounds of his villa at Bauli a fish-tank so massive that it has +endured to the present day, and so vast as to gain for it even then the +name of _Piscina Mircihilis_. It is a subterraneous edifice, vaulted, +and divided by four rows of arcades and numerous columns,--some ten +feet deep, and of very great extent. Here the largest fishes could be +fattened at will; and even the mighty sturgeon, prince of good-cheer, +might find ample accommodations. + +Lucullus, that most ostentatious of patricians, and autocrat of +_bons-vivants_, had a mountain cut through in the neighborhood of +Naples, so as to open a canal, and bring up the sea and its fishes to +the centre of the gardens of his sumptuous villa. So Cicero well names +him one of the Tritons of fish-pools. His country-seat of Pausilypum +resembled a village rather than a villa, and, if of less extent, was +more magnificent in luxury than the gigantic villa of Hadrian, near +Tivoli. Great masses of stone-work are still visible, glimmering under +the blue water, where the marble walls repelled the waves, and ran out +in long arcades and corridors far into the sea. Inlets and creeks, +which wear even now an artificial air, mark the site of _piscinae_ and +refreshing lakes. Here were courts, baths, porticoes, and terraces, in +the _villa urbana_, or residence of the lord,--the _villa rustica_ for +the steward and slaves,--the _gallinarium_ for hens,--the _apiarium_ for +bees,--the _suile_ for swine,--the _villa fructuaria_, including the +buildings for storing corn, wine, oil, and fruits,--the _horius_, or +garden,--and the park, containing the fish-pond and the _vivarium_. +Statues, groves, and fountains, pleasure-boats, baths, jesters, and even +a small theatre, served to vary the amusements of the lovely grounds and +of the tempting sea. + +But it was not to be supposed that men satiated with the brutal shows +of the amphitheatre, even if enervated by their frequentation of the +Suburra, could, on leaving the city, be always content with simple +pleasures, rural occupations, or pleasure-sails. Habit demanded +something more exciting; and the ready tragedy of a fish-pond filled +with ravenous eels fed upon human flesh furnished the needed excitement. +For men _blasé_ with the spectacles of lions and tigers lacerating the +_bestiarii_. It was much more exciting to witness a swarm of sea-eels +tearing to pieces an awkward or rebellious slave. Vedius Pollio, a Roman +knight of the highest distinction, could find nothing better to do for +his dear Muraenae than to throw them slaves alive; and he never +failed to have sea-eels served to him after their odious repast, says +Tertullian. It is true, these wretched creatures generally deserved this +terrible punishment; for instance, Seneca speaks of one who had the +awkwardness to break a crystal vase while waiting at supper on the +irascible Pollio. + +Pisciculture was carried so far that fish-ponds were constructed on +the roofs of houses. More practical persons conducted a stream of +river-water through their dining-rooms, so that the fish swam under the +table, and it "was only necessary to stoop and pick them out the moment +before eating them; and as they were often cooked on the table, their +perfect freshness was thus insured. Martial (Lib. X., Epigram. XXX., vv. +16-25) alludes to this custom, as well as to the culture and taming of +fish in the _piscina_. + + "Nec seta largo quaerit in mari praedam, + Sed e cubiclo lectuloque jactatam + Spectatus alte lineam trahit piscis. + Si quando Nereus sentit Aeoli regnum, + Ridet procellas tula de suo mensa. + Piscina rhombum pascit et lupos vernas, + Nomenculator mugilem citat notum + Et adesse jussi prodeunt senes mulli." + +It having been remarked that the red mullet passed through many changes +of color in dying, like the dolphin, fashion decreed that it should die +upon the table. Served alive, inclosed in a glass vessel, it was cooked +in the presence of the attentive guests, by a slow fire, in order +that they might gloat upon its sufferings and expiring hues, before +satisfying their appetites with its flesh. + +It will not surprise us to learn that the eminent _gourmand_ Apicius +offered a prize to the inventor of a new sauce made of mullets' livers. + +But we may remark, that fish, like all other natural objects, were +studied by the ancients only to pet or to eat. All their views of +Nature were essentially selfish; none were disinterested, reverential, +deductive, or scientific. Nature ministered only to their appetites, +in her various kinds of food,--to their service, in her beasts of +burden,--or to their childish or ferocious amusement, with talking +birds, as the starling, with pet fish, or with pugnacious wild beasts. +There was no higher thought. The Greeks, though fond of flowers, and +employing them for a multitude of adornments and festive occasions +entirely unequalled now, yet did not advance to their botanical study or +classification. The Roman, if enamored of the fine arts, could see no +Art in Nature. There was no experiment, no discovery, and but little +observation. The whole science of Natural History, which has assumed +such magnitude and influence in our times, was then almost entirely +neglected. + +And yet what an opportunity there was for the naturalist, had a single +enthusiast arisen? All lands, all climes, and all their natural +productions were subservient to the will of the Emperor. The orb of the +earth was searched for the roe of eels or the fins of mullets to gratify +Caesar. And the whole world might have been explored, and specimens +deposited in one gigantic museum in the Eternal City, at the nod of a +single individual. But the observer, the lover of Nature, was wanting; +and the whole world was ransacked merely to consign its living tenants +to the _vivaria_, and thence to the fatal arena of the amphitheatre. Yet +even here the naturalist might have pursued his studies on individuals, +and even whole species, both living and dead, without quitting Rome. The +animal kingdom lay tributary at his feet, but served only to satiate his +appetite or his passions, and not to enrich his mind. + +So, again, Rome's armies traversed the globe, and her legions were often +explorers of hitherto unknown regions. But no men of science, no corps +of _savans_ was attached to her cohorts, to march in the footsteps +of conquest and gather the fruits of victory to enrich the schools. +Provinces were devastated, great cities plundered, nations made captive, +and all the masterpieces of Art borne off to adorn Rome. But Nature was +never rifled of her secrets; nor was discovery carried beyond the most +material things. The military spirit stifled natural science. + +There were then, to be sure, no tendencies of thought to anything but +war, pleasure, literature, or art. There was comparatively no knowledge +of the physical sciences, whose culture Mr. Buckle has shown to have +exerted so powerful an influence on civilization. The convex lens--as +since developed into the microscope, the giver of a new world to +man--was known to Archimedes only as an instrument to burn the enemy's +fleet. + + * * * * * + +Modern pisciculture in some measure imitates, although, it does not +rival the ancient. Many methods have been devised in France and England +of breeding and nurturing the salmon, the trout, and other valuable +fish, which are annually becoming more scarce in all civilized +countries. But all this is on a far different principle from that +pursued at Rome. We follow pisciculture from necessity or economy, +because fish of certain kinds are yearly dying out, and to produce +a cheap food; but the Romans followed it as a luxury, or a childish +amusement, alone. And although our aldermen may sigh over a missing +Chelonian, as Crassus for his deceased eel, or the first salmon of the +season bring a fabulous price in the market, yet the time has long +passed when the gratification of appetite is alone thought of in +connection with Nature. We know that living creatures are to be studied, +as well as eaten; and that the faithful and reverent observation of +their idiosyncrasies, lives, and habits is as healthful and pleasing to +the mind as the consumption of their flesh is wholesome and grateful +to the body. The whole science of Zoölogy has arisen, with its simple +classifications and its vast details. The _vivaria_ of the Jardin des +Plantes rival those of the Colosseum in magnitude, and excel them in +object. Nature is ransacked, explored, and hunted down in every field, +only that she may add to the general knowledge. Museums collect and +arrange all the types of creative wisdom, from the simple cell to man. +Science searches out their extinct species and fossil remains, and tells +their age by Geology. The microscope pursues organic matter down into an +infinity of smallness, proportionately as far as the telescope traces it +upwards in the infinity of illimitable space. Last of all, though not +till long after the earth and the air had been seemingly exhausted, +the desire of knowledge began to push its way into the arcana of the +sea,--that hidden half of Nature, where are to be found those wonders +described by Milton at the Creation,--where, in obedience to the Divine +command, + + "Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas + And lakes and running streams the waters fill, ... + Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay, + With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals + Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales + Glide under the green wave in sculls that oft + Bank the mid sea: part single or with mate + Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through groves + Of coral stray, or sporting with quick glance + Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold, + Or in their pearly shells at ease attend + Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food + In jointed armor watch." + +But no means were at hand to pursue these unknown creatures to their +unknown residences, and to observe their manners when at home. Single, +withered, and often mutilated specimens of minute fish, mollusks, or +radiata, in the museum, alone illustrated the mysteries of the deep sea. +Fish, to be sure, could be kept for longer or shorter periods in globes +of glass filled with water; but the more delicate creatures inevitably +perished soon after their removal from their mysterious abodes. Such +a passionate desire to "search Nature and know her secrets" finally +originated the idea of the Aquarium. + +The term _vivarium_ was used among the ancients to signify many +things,--from the dens of the wild animals which opened under the +Colosseum, to an oyster-bed; and so now it may mean any collection of +living creatures. Hence it could convey no distinct idea of a marine +collection such as we propose to describe. The term _aqua_ was added to +express the watery element; but the compound _aqua-vivarium_ was too +clumsy for frequent employment, and the abbreviated word _aquarium_ has +come into general use. + +Thus the real Aquarium is a water-garden and a menagerie combined,--and +aims to show life beneath the waters, both animal and vegetable, in +all the domestic security of its native home, and in all the beauty, +harmony, and nice adaptation of Nature herself. It is no sudden +discovery, but the growth of a long and patient research by naturalists. + +"What happens, when we put half a dozen gold-fish into a globe? The +fishes gulp in water and expel it at the gills. As it passes through the +gills, whatever free oxygen the water contains is absorbed, and carbonic +acid given off in its place; and in course of time, the free oxygen of +the water is exhausted, the water becomes stale, and at last poisonous, +from excess of carbonic acid. If the water is not changed, the fishes +come to the surface and gulp atmospheric air. But though they naturally +breathe air (oxygen) as we do, yet they are formed to extract it from +the water; and when compelled to take air from the surface, the gills, +or lungs, soon get inflamed, and death at last puts an end to their +sufferings. + +"Now, if a fish-globe be not overcrowded with fishes, we have only +to throw in a goodly handful of some water-weed,--such as the +_Callitriche_, for instance,--and a new set of chemical operations +commences at once, and it becomes unnecessary to change the water. The +reason of this is easily explained. Plants absorb oxygen as animals +do; but they also absorb carbonic acid, and from the carbonic add thus +absorbed they remove the pure carbon, and convert it into vegetable +tissue, giving out the free oxygen either to the water or the air, as +the case may be. Hence, in a vessel containing water-plants in a state +of healthy growth, the plants exhale more oxygen than they absorb, and +thus replace that which the fishes require for maintaining healthy +respiration. Any one who will observe the plants in an aquarium, when +the sun shines through the tank, will see the leaves studded with bright +beads, some of them sending up continuous streams of minute bubbles. +These beads and bubbles are pure oxygen, which the plants distil from +the water itself, in order to obtain its hydrogen, and from carbonic +acid, in order to obtain its carbon."[A] + +[Footnote A:_The Book of the Aquarium_, by Sidney Hibbert.] + +Thus the water, if the due proportion of its animal and vegetable +tenants be observed, need never be changed. This is the true Aquarium, +which aims to imitate the balance of Nature. By this balance the whole +organic world is kept living and healthy. For animals are dependent upon +the vegetable kingdom not only for all their food, but also for +the purification of the air, which they all breathe, either in the +atmosphere or in the water. The divine simplicity of this stupendous +scheme may well challenge our admiration. Each living thing, animal or +plant, uses what the other rejects, and gives back to the air what the +other needs. The balance must be perfect, or all life would expire, and +vanish from the earth. + +This is the balance which we imitate in the Aquarium. It is the whole +law of life, the whole scheme of Nature, the whole equilibrium of our +organic world, inclosed in a bottle. + +For the rapid evolution of oxygen by plants the action of sunlight is +required. That evolution becomes very feeble, or ceases entirely, in the +darkness of the night. Some authorities assert even that carbonic acid +is given off during the latter period. So, too, they claim that there +are two distinct processes carried on by the leaves of plants,--namely, +respiration and digestion: that the first is analogous to the same +process in animals; and that by it oxygen is absorbed from, and carbonic +acid returned to the atmosphere, though to a limited degree: and that +digestion consists in _the decomposition of carbonic acid by the green +tissues of the leaves under the stimulus of the light, the fixation of +solid carbon, and the evolution of pure oxygen_. The theory of distinct +respiration has been somewhat doubted by the highest botanical authority +of this country; but the theory of digestion is indisputable. And it is +no less certain that all forms of vegetation give to the air much more +free oxygen than they take from it, and much less carbonic acid, as +their carbonaceous composition shows. If fresh leaves are placed in +a bell-glass containing air charged with seven or eight per cent. of +carbonic acid, and exposed to the light of the sun, it will be found +that a large proportion of the carbonic acid will have disappeared, and +will be replaced by pure oxygen. But this change will not be effected in +the dark, nor by any degree of artificial light. Under water the oxygen +evolved from healthy vegetation can be readily collected as it rises, as +has been repeatedly proved. + +Why carbonic acid is, to a limited degree, given off by the plant in the +night, is merely because the vital process, or the fixation of carbon +and evolution of oxygen, ceases when the light is withdrawn. The plant +is only in a passive state. Ordinary chemical forces resume their sway, +and the oxygen of the air combines with the newly deposited carbon to +reproduce a little carbonic acid. But this must be placed to the account +of decomposing, not of growing vegetation; for by so much as plants +grow, they decompose carbonic acid and give its oxygen to the air, or, +in other words, purify the air. + +It has been found by experiment, that every six pounds of carbon in +existing plants has withdrawn twenty-two pounds of carbonic acid gas +from the atmosphere, and replaced it with sixteen pounds of oxygen gas, +occupying the same bulk. And when we consider the amount of carbon that +is contained in the tissues of living, and of extinct vegetation also, +in the form of peat and coal, we may have some idea of the vast body of +oxygen which the vegetable kingdom has added to the atmosphere. + +And it is also to be considered, that this is the only means we know of +whereby free oxygen is given to supply the quantity constantly consumed +in respiration, combustion, and other vast and endless oxygen-using +processes. It follows, therefore, that animals are dependent upon plants +for their pure oxygen, as well as for their food. But the vegetable +kingdom might exist independently of the animal; since plants may derive +enough carbon from the soil, enriched by the decaying members of their +own race. + +There is, however, one exception to the law that plants increase the +amount of oxygen in the air. During flowering and fruiting, the stores +of carbon laid up in the plant are used to support the process, and, +combining with the oxygen of the air, both carbonic acid and heat are +given off. This has been frequently proved. In large tropical plants, +where an immense number of blossoms are crowded together, the +temperature has risen twenty to fifty degrees above that of the +surrounding air. + +As most of the aquatic plants are cryptogamous, or producing by spores, +and not by flowers, it seems probable that the evolution of carbonic +acid and heat is much less in degree in them, and therefore less in the +water than in the air. We may, therefore, venture to lay it down as a +general principle, that plants evolve free oxygen in water, when in +the sunlight, and remove the carbonic acid added to the water by the +respiration of the animals. + +But since this is a digestive or nutritive process, it follows that +aquatic plants may derive much or all of their food from the water +itself, or the carbon in it, in the same manner as the so-called +air-plant, which grows without soil, does from the air. It is true, at +any rate, that, in the fresh-water aquarium, the river and brook plants +need no soil but pebbles; and that the marine plants have no proper +root, but are attached by a sort of sucker or foot-stalk to stones and +masses of rock. It is very easy to see, then, how the aquarium may +be made entirely self-supporting; and that, excepting for the larger +carnivorous fish, who exhaust in a longer or shorter period the minute +creatures on which they live, no external food is required. + +A very simple experiment will prove the theory and practicability of the +aquarium. In a glass jar of moderate size was placed a piece of _Ulva +latissima_, or Sea-Lettuce, a broad-leaved, green, aquatic plant, and a +small fish. The mouth was closed by a ground glass stopper. The jar was +exposed to the light daily; the water was never changed; nor was the +glass stopper removed, excepting to feed the fish, once or twice a week, +with small fragments of meat. At the end of eight months both remained +flourishing: the fish was lively and active; and the plant had more than +half filled the bottle with fresh green leaves. + +Any vessel that will hold water can, of course, be readily converted +into an aquarium. But as we desire a clear view of the contents at all +times, glass is the best material. And since glass globes refract the +light irregularly and magnify and distort whatever is within them, we +shall find an advantage in having the sides of the aquarium parallel and +the form rectangular. As the weight of the aquarium, when filled with +water, is enormous,--far more than we should at first imagine,--it +follows that it must be capable of resisting pressure both from above +and from within. The floor and stand, the frame and joints must be +strong and compact, and the walls of plate or thick crown glass. The +bottom should be of slate; and if it is designed to attach arches of +rock-work inside to the ends, they, too, must be of slate, as cement +will not stick to glass. The frame should be iron, zinc, or well-turned +wood; the joints closed with white-lead putty; the front and back of +glass. There is one objection to having the side which faces the light +of transparent glass, and that is that it transmits too much glare of +sunlight for the health of the animals. In Nature's aquarium the light +enters only from above; and the fish and delicate creatures have always, +even then, the shady fronds of aquatic plants or the shelter of the +rocks,--as well as the power of seeking greater depths of water, where +the light is less,--to protect themselves from too intense a sunshine. +It is, therefore, sometimes advisable to have the window side of the +aquarium made of glass stained of a green color. It is desirable that +all aquarial tanks should have a movable glass cover to protect them +from dust, impure gases, and smoke. + +When we speak of an aquarium, we mean a vessel holding from eight to +thirty gallons of water. Mr. Gosse describes his larger tank as being +two feet long by eighteen inches wide and eighteen inches deep, and +holding some twenty gallons. Smaller and very pretty tanks may be +made fifteen inches long by twelve inches wide and twelve deep. Great +varieties in form and elegance may be adapted to various situations. + +There are two kinds of aquaria, the fresh- and the salt-water: the one +fitted for the plants and animals of ponds and rivers; the other for the +less known tenants of the sea. They are best described as the River and +the Marine Aquarium, and they differ somewhat from each other. We shall +speak first of the fresh-water aquarium. + +The tank being prepared, and well-seasoned, by being kept several weeks +alternately full and empty, and exposed to the sun and air, so that all +paint, oil, varnish, tannin, etc., may be wholly removed, the next thing +is to arrange the bottom and to plant it. Some rough fragments of rock, +free from iron or other metals that stain the water, may be built into +an arch with cement, or piled up in any shape to suit the fancy. The +bottom should be composed entirely of shingle or small pebbles, well +washed. Common silver sand, washed until the water can be poured through +it quite clear, is also suitable. + +Mould, or soil adapted to ordinary vegetation, is not necessary to +the aquatic plants, and is, moreover, worse than useless; since it +necessitates the frequent changing of the water for some time, in order +to get rid of the soluble vegetable matter, and promotes the growth of +Confervae, and other low forms of vegetation, which are obnoxious. + +Aquatic plants of all kinds have been found to root freely and flourish +in pebbles alone, if their roots be covered. The plants should be +carefully cleared of all dead parts; the roots attached to a small +stone, or laid on the bottom and covered with a layer of pebbles and +sand. + +The bottom being planted, the water may be introduced through a +watering-pot, or poured against the side of the tank, so as to avoid any +violent agitation of the bottom. The water should be pure and bright. +River-water is best; spring-water will do, but must be softened by the +plants for some days before the fishes are put in. + +Sunshine is good for the tank at all seasons of the year. The +fresh- requires more than the salt-water aquarium. The amount of +oxygen given off by the plants, and hence their growth and the +sprightliness of the fishes, are very much increased while the sun +is shining on them. + +In selecting plants for the aquarium some regard is to be paid to the +amount of oxygen they will evolve, and to their hardiness, as well as to +their beauty. When it is desired to introduce the fishes without waiting +long for the plants to get settled and to have given off a good supply +of oxygen, there is no plant more useful than the _Callitricke_, or +Brook Star-wort. It is necessary to get a good supply, and pick off the +green heads, with four or six inches only of stem; wash them clean, +and throw them into the tank, without planting. They spread over the +surface, forming a rich green ceiling, grow freely, and last for months. +They are continually throwing out new roots and shoots, and create +abundance of oxygen. Whenever desired, they can be got rid of by simply +lifting them out. + +The _Vallisneria_, or Tape-Grass, common in all our ponds, is essential +to every fresh-water tank. It must be grown as a bottom-plant, and +flourishes only when rooted. The _Nitella_ is another pleasing variety. +The _Ranunculus aquatilis_, or Water-Crowfoot, is to be found in almost +every pond in bloom by the middle of May, and continues so into the +autumn. It is of the buttercup family, and may be known as a white +buttercup with a yellow centre. The floating leaves are fleshy; the +lower ones finely cut. It must be very carefully washed, and planted +from a good joint, allowing length enough of stem to reach the surface. +Some of the blossom-heads may also be sprinkled over the surface, where +they will live and bloom all through the summer. The _Hydrocharis_, +or Frog's-Bit, and the _Alisma_, or Water-Plantain, are also easily +obtained, hardy and useful, as well as pleasing. Many rarer and more +showy varieties may be cultivated; we have given only the most common +and essential. All the varieties of _Chara_ are interesting to the +microscopist, as showing the phenomenon of the circulation of the sap, +or Cyclosis. + +Of the living tenants of the aquarium, those most interesting, as well +as of the highest organization, are the fishes. And among fishes, the +family of the _Cyprinidae_ are the best adapted to our purpose; for we +must select those which are both hardy and tamable. _Cyprinus gibelio_, +the Prussian Carp, is one of the best. It will survive, even if the +water should accidentally become almost exhausted of oxygen. It may +be taught, also, to feed from the hand. None of the carp are very +carnivorous. _Cyprinus auratus_, or the Gold-fish, is one of the most +ornamental objects in an aquarium. But the Minnow, _C. phoxinus_, is the +jolliest little fish in the tank. He is the life of the collection, and +will survive the severest trials of heat and cold. The Chub, a common +tenant of our ponds, is also a good subject for domestication. The +Tench and Loach are very interesting, but also very delicate. Among the +spiny-finned fishes, the Sticklebacks are the prettiest, but so savage +that they often occasion much mischief. For a vessel containing +twelve gallons the following selection of live stock is among those +recommended: Three Gold Carp, three Prussian Carp, two Perch, four +large Loach, a dozen Minnows, six Bleak, and two dozen Planorbis. Some +varieties of the Water-Beetles, or Water-Spiders, which the fishes +do not eat, may also well be added. The Newt, too, is attractive and +harmless. + +All may go on well, and the water remain clear; but after the tank has +been established several weeks, the inner sides of the glass will show a +green tinge, which soon increases and interferes with the view. This is +owing to the growth of a minute confervoid vegetation, which must be +kept down. For this purpose the Snail is the natural remedy, being the +ready scavenger of all such nuisances. Snails cling to the sides, and +clean away and consume all this vegetable growth. The _Lymnea_ is among +the most efficient, but unfortunately is destructive, by eating holes +in the young fronds of the larger plants, and thus injuring their +appearance. To this objection some other varieties of snail are not +open. The _Paludina_ and _Planorbis_ are the only kinds which are +trustworthy. The former is a handsome snail, with a bronze-tinted, +globular shell; the latter has a spiral form. These will readily reduce +the vegetation. And to preserve the crystal clearness of the water, some +Mussels may be allowed to burrow in the sand, where they will perform +the office of animated filters. They strain off matters held in +suspension in the water, by means of their siphons and ciliated gills. +With these precautions, a well-balanced tank will long retain all the +pristine purity of Nature. + +Specimens for the river aquarium may be readily obtained in almost +any brook or pool, by means of the hand-net or dredge. It will be +astonishing to see the variety of objects brought up by a successful +haul. Small fish, newts, tadpoles, mollusks, water-beetles, worms, +spiders, and spawn of all kinds will be visible to the naked eye; while +the microscope will bring out thousands more of the most beautiful +objects. + +A very different style of appearance and of objects distinguishes the +Salt-water or Marine Aquarium. + +As the greater part of the most curious live stock of the salt-water +aquarium live upon or near the bottom, so the marine tank should be more +shallow, and allow an uninterrupted view from above. Marine creatures +are more delicately constituted than fresh-water ones; and they demand +more care, patience, and oversight to render the marine aquarium +successful. + +Sea-sand and pebbles, washed clean, form the best bottom for the +salt-water aquarium. It must be recollected that many of the marine +tenants are burrowers, and require a bottom adapted to their habits. +Some rock-work is considered essential to afford a grateful shelter and +concealment to such creatures as are timid by nature, and require a spot +in which to hide: this is true of many fishes. Branches of coral, bedded +in cement, may be introduced, and form beautiful and natural objects, on +which plants will climb and droop gracefully. + +Sea-water dipped from the open sea, away from the mouths of rivers, +is, of course, the best for the marine aquarium. If pure, it will bear +transportation and loss of time before being put into the tank. It may, +however, not always be possible to get sea-water, particularly for the +aquarium remote from the seaboard, and it is therefore fortunate that +artificial sea-water will answer every purpose. + +The composition of natural sea-water is, in a thousand parts, +approximately, as follows: Water, 964 parts; Common Salt, 27; Chloride +of Magnesium, 3.6; Chloride of Potassium, 0.7; Sulphate of Magnesia, +(Epsom Salts,) 2; Sulphate of Lime, 1.4; Bromide of Magnesium, Carbonate +of Lime, etc., .02 to .03 parts. Now the Bromide of Magnesium, and +Sulphate and Carbonate of Lime, occur in such small quantities, that +they can be safely omitted in making artificial seawater; and besides, +river and spring water always contain a considerable proportion of lime. +Therefore, according to Mr. Gosse, we may use the following formula: In +every hundred parts of the solid ingredients, Common Salt, 81 parts; +Epsom Salts, 7 parts; Chloride of Magnesium, 10 parts; Chloride of +Potassium, 2 parts; and of Water about 2900 parts, although this must be +accurately determined by the specific gravity. The mixture had better +be allowed to stand several days before filling the tank; for thus the +impurities of the chemicals will settle, and the clear liquor can be +decanted off. The specific gravity should then be tested with the +hydrometer, and may safely range from 1026 to 1028,--fresh water being +1000. If a quart or two of real sea-water can be obtained, it is a very +useful addition to the mixture. It may now be introduced into the tank +through a filter. But no living creatures must be introduced until the +artificial water has been softened and prepared by the growth of the +marine plants in it for several weeks. Thus, too, it will be oxygenated, +and ready for the oxygen-using tenants. + +It is a singular fact, that water which has been thus prepared, with +only four ingredients, will, after being a month or more in the +aquarium, acquire the other constituents which are normally present in +minute quantities in the natural sea-water. It must derive them from the +action of the plants or animals, or both. Bromine may come from sponges, +or sea-wrack, perhaps. Thus artificial water eventually rights itself. + +The tank, having been prepared and seasoned with the same precaution +used for the river aquarium, and having a clear bottom and a supply of +good water, is now ready for planting. Many beautifully colored and +delicately fringed Algae and Sea-Wracks will be found on the rocks at +low tide, and will sadly tempt the enthusiast to consign their delicate +hues to the aquarium. All such temptations must be resisted. Green is +the only color well adapted for healthy and oxygenating growth in the +new tank. A small selection of the purple or red varieties may perhaps +be introduced and successfully cultivated at a later day, but they are +very delicate; while the olives and browns are pretty sure to die and +corrupt the water. It must be remembered, too, that the Algae are +cryptogamous, and bear no visible flowers to delight the eye or fancy. +Of all marine plants, the _Ulva latissima_, or Sea-Lettuce, is first and +best. It has broad, light-green fronds, and is hardy and a rapid grower, +and hence a good giver of oxygen. Next to this in looks and usefulness +comes the _Enteromorpha compressa_, a delicate, grass-like Alga. After +a while the _Chondrus crispus_, or common Carrageen Moss, may be chosen +and added. These ought to be enough for some months, as it is not safe +to add too many at once. Then the green weeds _Codium tomentosum_ and +_Cladophora_ may be tried; and, still later, the beautiful _Bryopsis +plumosa_. But it is much better to be content with a few Ulvae, and +others of that class, to begin with; for a half dozen of these will +support quite a variety of animal life. + +After a few hardy plants are well set, and thriving for a week or two, +and the water is clear and bubbly with oxygen, it will be time to look +about for the live stock of the marine aquarium. Fishes, though most +attractive, must be put in last; for as they are of the highest +vitality, so they require the most oxygen and food, and hence should not +be trusted until everything in the tank is well a-going. + +The first tenants should be the hardy varieties of the Sea-Anemones, +or _Actiniae_,--which are Polyps, of the class Radiata. The _Actinia +mesembryanthemum_ is the common smooth anemone, abounding on the coast, +and often to be found attached to stones on the beach. "When closed," +says Mr. Hibbert, "it has much resemblance to a ripe strawberry, +being of a deep chocolate color, dotted with small yellow spots. When +expanded, a circle of bright blue beads or tubercles is seen within the +central opening; and a number of coral-like fingers or tentacles unfold +from the centre, and spread out on all sides." It remains expanded for +many days together, if the water be kept pure; and, having little desire +for locomotion, stays, generally, about where it is placed. It is +a carnivorous creature, and seeks its food with its ever-searching +tentacles, thus drawing in fishes and mollusks, but, most frequently, +the minute Infusoria. Like other polyps, it may be cut in two, and each +part becomes a new creature. It is a very pretty and hardy object in the +aquarium. There are many varieties, some of which are very delicate, as +the _Actinia anguicoma_, or Snaky-locked Anemone, and the pink and brown +_Actinia bellis_, which so resembles a daisy. Others, as the _Actinia +parasitica_, are obtainable only by deep-sea dredging; "and, as its name +implies, it usually inhabits the shell of some defunct mollusk. And more +curious still, in the same shell we usually find a pretty crab, who +acts as porter to the anemone. He drags the shell about with him like +a palanquin, on which sits enthroned a very bloated, but gayly-dressed +potentate, destitute of power to move it for himself."[B] + +[Footnote B: Hibbert's _Book of the Aquarium_.] + +The _Actinia gemmacea_, or Gemmed Anemone, the _Actinia crassicornis_, +and the Plumose Anemone are all beautiful, but tender varieties. + +The Anemones require but little care; they do not generally need +feeding, though the Daisy and Plumose Anemone greedily take minced +mutton, or oyster. But, as a rule, there are enough Infusoria for their +subsistence; and it is safer not to feed them, as any fragments not +consumed will decay, and contaminate the water. + +Next in order of usefulness, hardiness, and adaptability to the new +aquarium, come the Mollusks. And of these, Snails and Periwinkles claim +our respectful attention, as the most faithful, patient, and necessary +scavengers of the confervoid growths, which soon obscure the marine +aquarium. + +"It is interesting," says Mr. Gosse, "to watch the business-like way in +which the Periwinkle feeds. At very regular intervals, the proboscis, a +tube with thick fleshy walls, is rapidly turned inside out to a certain +extent, until a surface is brought into contact with the glass having a +silky lustre; this is the tongue; it is moved with a short sweep, +and then the tubular proboscis infolds its walls again, the tongue +disappearing, and every filament of Conferva being carried up into the +interior, from the little area which had been swept. The next instant, +the foot meanwhile having made a small advance, the proboscis unfolds +again, the makes another sweep, and again the whole is withdrawn; and +this proceeds with great regularity. I can compare the action to nothing +so well as to the manner in which the tongue of an ox licks up the grass +of the field, or to the action of the mower cutting swath after swath." + +Of Crustacea, the Prawns and the smaller kinds of Crabs may be +admitted to the aquarium, though but sparingly. They are rude, noisy, +quarrelsome, and somewhat destructive,--but, for the same reason, +amusing tenants of the tank. + +All are familiar with the mode in which the Soldier or Hermit Crab takes +possession of and lives in the shells of Whelks and Snails. Poorly +protected behind by Nature, the homeless crab wanders about seeking a +lodging. Presently he meets with an empty shell, and, after probing it +carefully with his claw to be sure it is not tenanted, he pops into it +back foremost in a twinkling, and settles himself in his new house. +Often, too, he may be seen balancing the conveniences of the one he is +in and of another vacant lodging he has found in his travels; and he +even ventures out of his own, and into the other, and back again, before +being satisfied as to their respective merits. In all these manoeuvres, +as well as in his daily battles with his brethren, he is one of the +drollest of creatures. + +As we advance in our practice with the aquarium we may venture to +introduce more delicate lodgers. Such are the beautiful family of the +_Annelidae_: the _Serpula_, in his dirty house; and the _Terebella_, +most ancient of masons, who lays the walls of his home in water-proof +cement. + +The great class of Zoöphytes can be introduced, but many varieties of +them will be found already within the aquarium, in the company of their +more bulky neighbors. These peculiar creatures, or things, form the +boundary where the last gleam of animal life is so feeble and flickering +as to render it doubtful whether they belong to the animal or vegetable +kingdom. Agassiz calls them _Protozoa_,--Primary Existences. Some divide +them into two great classes, namely: the _Anthozoa_, or Flower-Life; and +the _Polyzoa_, or Many-Life, in which the individuals are associated in +numbers. They are mostly inhabitants of the water; all are destitute of +joints, nerves, lungs, and proper blood-vessels; but they all possess +an _irritable_ system, in obedience to which they expand or contract at +will. Among the _Anthozoa_ are the Anemones; among the _Polyzoa_, +are the Madrepores, or Coral-Builders, and many others. Many are +microscopic, and belong to the class of animalcules called _Infusoria_. + +A very remarkable quality which the Infusoria possess--one very useful +for the aquarium, and one which would seem to settle their place in the +_vegetable_ kingdom--is that they _exhale oxygen_ like plants. This has +been proved by Liebig, who collected several jars of oxygen from tanks +containing Infusoria only. + +A piece of honeycomb coral (_Eschara foliacea_) is easily found, and, +when well selected and placed in the aquarium, may continue to grow +there by the labors of its living infusorial tenants: they are not +unworthy rivals of the Madrepores, or deep-sea coral-builders of warmer +latitudes. The walls of its cells are not more than one-thirtieth of an +inch in thickness, and each cell has its occupant. So closely are they +packed, that in an area of one-eighth of an inch square the orifices of +forty-five cells can be counted. As these are all double, this would +give five thousand seven hundred and sixty cells to the square inch. Now +a moderate-sized specimen will afford, with all its convolutions, +at least one hundred square inches of wall, which would contain a +population of five hundred and seventy-six thousand inhabitants,--a very +large city. So says Mr. Gosse. We cannot forbear, with him, from quoting +Montgomery's lines on the labors of the coral-worms, which modern +science has enabled us to study in our parlors. + + "Millions on millions thus, from age to age, + With simplest skill, and toil unweariable, + No moment and no movement unimproved, + Laid line on line, on terrace terrace spread, + To swell the heightening, brightening, gradual mound, + By marvellous structure climbing towards the day. + Each wrought alone, yet all together wrought, + Unconscious, not unworthy instruments, + By which a hand invisible was rearing + A new creation in the secret deep. + .....I saw the living pile ascend, + The mausoleum of its architects, + Still dying upwards as their labors closed; + Slime the material, but the slime was turned + To adamant by their petrific touch: + Frail were their frames, ephemeral their lives, + Their masonry imperishable." + +The deep-sea soundings taken recently for the Atlantic telegraph have +demonstrated the existence of organic life even at the bottom of the +ocean. Numerous living Infusoria have been brought to the light of day, +from their hidden recesses, by the lead. "Deeper than ever plummet +sounded" before these latter days, there exist myriads of minute +creatures, and of Algae to furnish their food. It is an unanswered +problem, How they can resist the enormous pressure to which they must +be there subjected, amounting, not infrequently, to several tons to the +square inch. And still another point of interest for us springs +from this. It is an inquiry of practical importance to the aquarian +naturalist, How far the diminished pressure which they meet with in the +tank, on being transferred from their lower homes to the aquarium, may +influence their viability. May not some of the numerous deaths in the +marine tank be reasonably attributed to this lack of pressure? + +What a difference, too, has Nature established, in the natural power to +resist pressure, between those creatures which float near the surface +and those which haunt the deeper sea! The Jelly-fish can live only near +the top of the water, and, floating softly through a gentle medium, is +yet crushed by a touch; while the Coral-builder bears the superincumbent +weight of worlds on his vaulted cell with perfect impunity. + +Another important question is, How far alteration in the amount of light +may affect the more delicate creatures. What fishes do without light has +been solved by the darkness of the Mammoth Cave, the tenants of whose +black pools are eyeless, evidently because there is nothing to see. The +more deeply located Infusoria and Mollusks must dwell in an endless +twilight; for Humboldt has found, by experiment, that at a depth one +hundred and ninety-two feet from the surface the amount of sunlight +which can penetrate is equal only to one-half of the light of an +ordinary candle one foot distant. + +Thus ever in gloom, yet in a state of constant safety from storms and +the agitations of the upper air, the thousand forms of low organic life +and cryptogamic vegetation live and thrive in peace and quietness. + + "The floor is of sand like the mountain drift, + And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow; + From the coral rocks the sea-plants lift + Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow. + + * * * * * + + "And life in rare and beautiful forms + Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, + And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms + Has made the top of the waves his own."[C] + +[Footnote C: Percival.] + +Upon the bottom, at various depths, lies that brilliant Radiate--type of +his class--the Star-fish. These are quiet and harmless creatures, and +favorites in the aquarium, from the pretty contrast they make with +marine plants and other objects. + +The perfect transparency, elegant form, and graceful navigation of the +_Medusae_, or Jelly-fishes, render them much admired in their native +haunts, and prized for the aquarium. But they are very delicate. How +beautiful and remarkable are these headless _Discophori_, as they +float, and propel themselves with involutions of their disks and gently +trailing tentacles, and the central peduncle hanging far below, like the +clapper of a transparent bell! And yet these wonders are but so much +sea-water, inclosed in so slight a tissue that it withers in the sun, +and leaves only a minute spot of dried-up gelatinous substance behind. + +Finally come the Fishes, many of which are of similar genera to those +recommended for the fresh-water tank. The Black Goby is familiar, +tamable, but voracious; the Gray Mullet is very hardy, but also rather +savage; the Wrasses are some of the most showy fish,--called in some +parts of the country Cunners,--and of these, the Ancient Wrasse, +(_Labrus maculatus_,) covered with a network of vermilion meshes on a +brown and white ground, is the most elegant. + +Some points of general management are so important, and some dangers so +imminent, that we cannot pass them by unnoticed. The aquarian enthusiast +is very apt to be in too great haste to see everything going on, and +commits the common error of trying too many things at once. The aquarium +must be built up slowly and tentatively, object by object: plants first, +and of the simplest kinds; and not until they are well settled, and the +water beaded with oxygen bubbles, should we think of introducing living +creatures,--and even then only the hardier kinds of actinias, mollusks, +and crabs. All delicate animals must be intrusted one by one to their +new home, and carefully watched for deaths and decay, which, whether +arising from dead plants or animals, ruin everything very quickly, +unless they be promptly removed. For sulphuretted hydrogen, even in very +minute quantities, is sure death to all these little creatures. + +The emanations from paint and putty are often fatal in new tanks. +Several weeks' exposure to water, air, and sunlight is necessary to +season the new-made aquarium. Of equal consequence is it that the water +be absolutely pure; and if brought from the sea, care must be exercised +about the vessel containing it. Salt acts upon the glazing of earthen +ware of some kinds. Stone or glass jars are safest. New oak casks are +fatal from the tannin which soaks out; fir casks are safe and good. So +delicate and sensitive are the minute creatures which people the sea, +that they have been found dead on opening a cask in which a new oak +bung was the only source of poison. And no wonder; for a very slight +proportion of tannic acid in the water corrugates and stiffens the thin, +smooth skin of the anemone, like the tanning of leather. + +A certain natural density of the sea-water must also be preserved, +ranging between no wider limits than 1026 and 1028. And in the open tank +evaporation is constantly deranging this, and must be met by a supply +from without. As the pure water alone evaporates, and the salts and +earthy or mineral constituents are left behind, two things result: the +water remaining becomes constantly more dense; and this can be remedied +only by pure fresh water poured in to restore the equilibrium. Hence the +marine aquarium must be replenished with _fresh water_, until the proper +specific gravity, as indicated by the hydrometer, is restored. + +The aquarium may be found some morning with a deep and permanent green +stain discoloring the water. This unsightly appearance is owing to the +simultaneous development of the spores of multitudes of minute Algae and +Confervae, and can be obviated by passing the water through a charcoal +filter. When any of the fishes give signs of sickness or suffocation, by +coming to the surface and gulping air, they may be revived by having the +water aerated by pouring it out repeatedly from a little elevation, or +by a syringe. The fishes are sometimes distressed, also, when the room +gets too warm for them. A temperature of 60° is about what they require. +And they will stand cold, many of them, even to being frozen with the +water into ice, and afterwards revive. + +The degree of light should be carefully regulated by a stained glass +side, or a shade. Yet it must be borne in mind that sunlight is +indispensable to the free evolution of oxygen by the plants. And when +the sun is shining on the water, all its occupants appear more lively, +and the fishes seem intoxicated--as they doubtless are--with oxygen. + +A novice is apt to overstock his aquarium. Not more than two +moderate-sized fishes to a gallon of water is a safe rule. Care, too, +must be taken to group together those kinds of creatures which are not +natural enemies, or natural food for each other, or a sad scene of +devastation and murder will ensue. + +Cleansing cannot be always intrusted to snails. But the sides may be +scrubbed with a soft swab, made of cotton or wick-yarn. Deaths will +occasionally take place; and even suicide is said to be resorted to by +the wicked family of the Echinoderms. + +To procure specimens for the aquarium requires some knack and knowledge. +The sea-shore must be haunted, and even the deep sea explored. At the +extreme low-water of new or full moon tides, the rocks and tide-pools +are to be zealously hunted over by the aquarian naturalist. Several +wide-mouthed vials and stone jars are necessary; and we would repeat, +that no plant should be taken, unless its attachment is preserved. It +is often a long and difficult job to get some of the Algae; with their +tender connections unsevered from the hard rock, which must be chipped +away with the chisel, and often with the blows of the hammer deadened by +being struck under water. It is by lifting up the overhanging masses of +slimy fuel, tangles, and sea-grass, that we find the delicate varieties, +as the _Chondrus_ with its metallic lustre, and the red _Algae_, or the +stony _Corallina_, which delights in the obscurity of shaded pools. + +The sea-weeds will be found studded with mollusks,--as Snails and +Periwinkles of many queer varieties. Anemones, of the more common kinds, +are found clinging to smooth stones. Crabs on the sand. Prawns, Shrimps, +Medusae, and fishes of many species, in the little pools which the tide +leaves behind, and which it will require a sharp eye and a quick hand +to explore with success. But the rarer forms of Actinias, Star-fishes, +Sepioles, Madrepores, Annelidae, and Zoophytes, of a thousand shapes, +live on the bottom, in deep water, and must be captured there. + +For this purpose we must dredge from a boat, under sail. The +naturalist's dredge is an improved oyster-dredge, with each of the two +long sides of the mouth made into a scraping lip of iron. The body is +made of spun-yarn, or fishing-line, netted into a small mesh. Two long +triangles are attached by a hinge to the two short sides of the frame, +and meeting in front, at some distance from the mouth, are connected by +a swivel-joint. To this the dragging rope is bent, which must be three +times as long, in dredging, as the depth of the water. This is fastened +to the stern of a boat under sail, and thus the bottom is raked of +all sorts of objects; among which, on emptying the net, many living +creatures for the aquarium are found. These may be placed temporarily in +jars; though plants, mollusks, Crustacea and Actiniae may be kept and +transmitted long distances packed in layers of moist sea-weed. + +For all this detail, labor, and patient care, we may reasonably find +two great objects: first, the cultivation and advancement of natural +science; second, the purest delight and healthiest amusement. + +In the aquarium we have a most convenient field for the study of +Natural History: to learn the varieties, nature, names, habits, and +peculiarities of those endless forms of animated existence which dwell +in the hidden depths of the sea, and at the same time to improve our +minds by cultivating our powers of observation. + +The pleasure derived from the aquarium comes from the excitement of +finding and collecting specimens, as well as from watching the tank +itself. There can be no more pleasant accompaniment to the sea-side walk +of the casual visitor or summer resident of a watering-place, than to +search for marine plants and animals among the fissures, rocks, and +tide-pools of the sea-washed beach or cape. + +Nature is always as varied as beautiful. Thousands of strange forms +sport under the shadow of the brown, waving sea-weeds, or among the +delicate scarlet fronds of the dulse, which is found growing in the +little ponds that the inequalities of the beach have retained. It is +down among the great boulders which the Atlantic piles upon our coast, +that we may find endless varieties of life to fill the aquarium, though +not those more gorgeous hues which distinguish the tenants of the coral +reefs on tropical shores. Yet even here Nature is absolutely infinite; +and we shall find ourselves, day after day, imitating that botanist who, +walking through the same path for a month, found always a new plant +which had escaped his notice before. So, too, in exploring the open sea, +besides the pleasure of sailing along a variegated coast, with sun and +blue water, we have the constant excitement of unexpected discovery: +for, as often as we pull up the dredge, some new wonder is revealed. + +Words fail to describe the wonders of the sea. And all that we drag +from the bottom, all that we admire in the aquarium, are but a few +disconnected specimens of that infinite whole which makes up their home. + +So, too, in watching the aquarium itself, we shall see endless +repetitions of those "sea-changes" which Shakspeare sang. Ancient +mythology typified the changing wonders of aquatic Nature, as well +as the fickleness of the treacherous sea, in those shifting deities, +Glaucus and Proteus, who tenanted the shore. + +The one the fancy of Ovid metamorphosed from a restless man to a fickle +sea-god; the other assumed so many deceptive shapes to those who visited +his cave, that his memory has been preserved in the word Protean. Such +fancies well apply to a part of Nature which shifts like the sands, and +ranges from the hideous Cuttle-fish and ravenous Shark to the delicate +Medusa, whose graceful form and trailing tentacles float among the +waving fronds of colored Algae, like + + "Sabrina fair, + Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, + In twisted braids of lilies knitting + The loose train of her amber-dropping hair." + + * * * * * + + +THE YOUNG REPEALER. + + +About eighteen years ago, when I was confined to two rooms by illness +of long standing, I received a remarkable note by post one day. The +envelope, bearing the Dublin postmark, was addressed in a good, bold, +manly handwriting; but the few lines within showed traces of agitation. +What I am going to relate is a true story,--altogether true, so far as +I can trust my memory,--except the name of the Young Repealer. I might +give his real name without danger of hurting any person's feelings but +one; but, for the sake of that one, who will thus be out of the reach +of my narrative, I speak of him under another name. Having to choose +a name, I will take a thoroughly Irish one, and call my correspondent +Patrick Monahan. + +The few lines which showed agitation in the handwriting were calm +in language, but very strange. Patrick Monahan told me that he was +extremely unhappy, and that he had reason to believe that I, and I +alone, could do him good. This, with the address,--to a certain number +in a street in Dublin,--was all. + +There was little time before the post went out; I was almost unable to +write from illness; but, after a second glance at this note, I felt that +I dared not delay my reply. I did not think that it was money that he +wished to ask. I did not think that he was insane. I could not conceive +why he should apply to me, nor why he did not explain what he wished +from me; but I had a strong impression that it was safest to reply at +once. I did so, in half a dozen lines, promising to write next day, +after a further attempt to discover his meaning, and begging him to +consider how completely in the dark I was as to him and his case. It was +well that I wrote that day. Long after, when he was letting me into all +the facts of his life, he told me that he had made my replying at once +or not the turning-point of his fate. If the post had brought him +nothing, he would have drowned himself in the Liffey. + +My second letter was the only sort of letter that it could be,--an +account of my own conjectures about him, and of my regret that I could +see no probability of my being of use to him, except in as far as my +experience of many troubles might enable me to speak suitably to him. I +added some few words on the dangers attending any sort of trouble, when +too keenly felt. + +In answer to my first note came a few lines, telling me that the purpose +of his application was mainly answered, and that my reply was of +altogether greater consequence than I could have any idea of. He was +less unhappy now, and believed he should never be so desperately +wretched again. Wild as this might appear, I was still persuaded that he +was not insane. + +By the next post came a rather bulky packet. It contained, besides a +letter from him, two or three old parchment documents, which showed that +Patrick's forefathers had filled some chief municipal offices in the +city in which the family had been settled for several generations. I had +divined that Patrick was a gentleman; and he now showed me that he came +of a good and honorable family, and had been well-educated. He was an +orphan, and had not a relation in the world,--if I remember right. It +was evident that he was poor; but he did not ask for money, nor seem to +write on that account. He aspired to a literary life, and believed +he should have done so, even if he had had the means of professional +education. But he did not ask me for aid in trying his powers in +literature. It was very perplexing; and the fact became presently clear +that he expected me to tell him how I could be of use to him,--he being +in no way able to afford me that information. I may as well give here +the key to the mystery, which I had to wait for for some time. When poor +Patrick was in a desperate condition,--very ill, in a lodging of which +he could not pay the rent,--threatened with being turned into the street +as soon as the thing could be done without danger to his life,--galled +with a sense of disgrace, and full of impotent wrath against an +oppressor,--and even suffering under deeper griefs than these,--at such +a time, the worn man fell asleep, and dreamed that I looked kindly upon +him. This happened three times; and on this ground, and this alone, he +applied to me for comfort. + +Before I learned this much, I had taken upon me to advise freely +whatever occurred to me as best, finding Patrick entirely docile under +my suggestions. Among other things, I advised him not to take offence, +or assume any reserve, if a gentleman should call on him, with a desire +to be of use to him. A gentleman did call, and was of eminent use to +him. I had written to a benevolent friend of mine, a chief citizen of +Dublin, begging him to obtain for me, through some trusty clerk or other +messenger, some information as to what Patrick was like,--how old he +was, what he was doing, and whether anything effectual could be done for +him. Mr. H. went himself. He found Patrick sitting over a little fire +in a little room, his young face thin and flushed, and his thin hands +showing fever. He had had inflammation of the lungs, and, though he +talked cheerfully, he was yet very far from well. Mr. H. was charmed +with him. He found in him no needless reserves, and not so much +sensitive pride as we had feared. Patrick had great hopes of sufficient +employment, when once he could get out and go and see about it; and he +pointed out two or three directions in which he believed he could obtain +engagements. Two things, however, were plain: that there was some +difficulty about getting out, and that his mind was set upon going +to London at the first possible moment. He had not only the ordinary +provincial ambition to achieve an entrance into the London literary +world, but he had another object: he could serve his country best in +London. Mr. H. easily divined the nature of the obstacle to his going +out into the fresh air which he needed so much; and in a few days +Patrick had a good suit of clothes. This was Mr. H.'s doing; and he also +removed the danger of Patrick's being turned out of his lodging. +The landlord had no wish to do such a thing; the young man was a +gentleman,--regular and self-denying in his habits, and giving no +trouble that he could help: but he had been very ill; and it was so +desolate! Nobody came to see him; no letters arrived for him; no +money was coming in, it was clear; and he could not go on living +there,--starving, in fact. + +Once able to go about again, Patrick cheered up; but it was plain that +there was one point on which he would not be ruled. He would not stay +in Dublin, under any inducement whatever; and he would go to London. +I wrote very plainly to him about the risk he was running,--even +describing the desolate condition of the unsuccessful literary +adventurer in the dreary peopled wilderness, in which the friendless may +lie down and die alone, as the starved animal lies down and perishes in +the ravine in the desert. I showed him how impossible it was for me or +anybody to help him, except with a little money, till he had shown what +he could do; and I entreated him to wait two years,--one year,--six +months, before rushing on such a fate. Here, and here alone, he was +self-willed. At first he explained to me that he had one piece of +employment to rely on. He was to be the London correspondent of the +Repeal organ in Dublin,--the "Nation" newspaper. The pay was next to +nothing. He could not live, ever so frugally, on four times the amount: +but it was an engagement; and it would enable him to serve his country. +So, as there was nothing else to be done, Mr. H. started him for London, +with just money enough to carry him there. Once there, he was sure he +should do very well. + +I doubted this; and he was met, at the address he gave, (at an Irish +greengrocer's, the only person he knew in London,) by an order for money +enough to carry him over two or three weeks,--money given by two or +three friends to whom I ventured to open the case. I have seldom read +a happier letter than Patrick's first from London; but it was not even +then, nor for some time after, that he told me the main reason of his +horror at remaining in Dublin. + +He had hoped to support himself as a tutor while studying and practising +for the literary profession; and he had been engaged to teach the +children of a rich citizen,--not only the boys, but the daughter. He, an +engaging youth of three-and-twenty, with blue eyes and golden hair, an +innocent and noble expression of countenance, an open heart, a glowing +imagination, and an eloquent tongue, was set to teach Latin and literary +composition to a pretty, warm-hearted, romantic girl of twenty; and when +they were in love and engaged, the father considered himself the victim +of the basest treachery that ever man suffered under. In vain the young +people pleaded for leave to love and wait till Patrick could provide a +home for his wife. They asked no favor but to be let alone. Patrick's +family was as good as hers; and he had the education and manners of a +gentleman, without any objectionable habits or tastes, but with every +possible desire to win an honorable home for his beloved. I am not sure, +but I think there was a moment when they thought of eloping some day, +if nothing but the paternal displeasure intervened between them and +happiness; but it was not yet time for this. There was much to be done +first. What the father did first was to turn Patrick out of the house, +under such circumstances of ignominy as he could devise. What he did +next was the blow which broke the poor fellow down. Patrick had written +a letter, in answer to the treatment he had received, in which he +expressed his feelings as strongly as one might expect. This letter was +made the ground of a complaint at the police-office; and Patrick was +arrested, marched before the magistrate, and arraigned as the sender of +a threatening letter to a citizen. In vain he protested that no idea of +threatening anybody had been in his mind. The letter, as commented on by +his employer, was pronounced sufficiently menacing to justify his being +bound over to keep the peace towards this citizen and all his family. +The intention was, no doubt, to disgrace him, and put him out of the +question as a suitor; for no man could pretend to be really afraid of +violence from a candid youth like Patrick, who loved the daughter too +well to lift a finger against any one connected with her. The scheme +succeeded; for he believed it had broken his heart. He supposed himself +utterly disgraced in Dublin; and he could live there no longer. Hence +his self-will about going to London. + +In addition to this personal, there was a patriotic view. Very early in +our correspondence, Patrick told me that he was a Repealer. He fancied +himself a very moderate one, and likely on that account to do the more +good. Those were the days of O'Connell's greatest power; or, if it was +on the wane, no one yet recognized any change. Patrick knew one of the +younger O'Connells, and had been flatteringly noticed by the great Dan +himself, who had approved the idea of his going to London, hoped to see +him there some day, and had prophesied that this young friend of his +would do great things for the cause by his pen, and be conspicuous among +the saviours of Ireland. Patrick's head was not quite turned by this; +and he lamented, in his letters to me, the plans proposed and the +language held by the common run of O'Connell's followers. Those were the +days when the Catholic peasantry believed that "Repale" would make every +man the owner of the land he lived on, or of that which he wished to +live on; and the great Dan did not disabuse them. Those were the days +when poor men believed that "Repale" would release every one from the +debts he owed; and Dan did not contradict it. When Dan was dead, the +consequence of his not contradicting it was that a literal-minded fellow +here and there shot the creditor who asked for payment of the coat, or +the pig, or the meal. For all this delusion Patrick was sorry. He was +sorry to hear Protestant shopmen wishing for the day when Dublin streets +would be knee-deep in Catholic blood, and to hear Catholic shopmen +reciprocating the wish in regard to Protestant blood. He was anxious to +make me understand that he had no such notions, and that he even thought +O'Connell mistaken in appearing to countenance such mistakes. But still +he, Patrick, was a Repealer; and he wished me to know precisely what he +meant by that, and what he proposed to do in consequence. He thought it +a sin and shame that Ireland should be trodden under the heel of the +Saxon; he thought the domination of the English Parliament intolerable; +he considered it just that the Irish should make their own laws, own +their own soil, and manage their own affairs. He had no wish to bring in +the French, or any other enemy of England; and he was fully disposed to +be loyal to the Crown, if the Crown would let Ireland entirely alone. +Even the constant persecution inflicted upon Ireland had not destroyed +his loyalty to the Crown. Such were the views on which his letters to +the "Nation" newspaper were to be grounded. In reply, I contented myself +with proposing that he should make sure of his ground as he went along; +for which purpose he should ascertain what proportion of the people of +Ireland wished for a repeal of the Union; and what sort of people they +were who desired Repeal on the one hand, or continued Union on the +other. I hoped he would satisfy himself as to what Repeal could +and could not effect; and that he would study the history of Irish +Parliaments, to learn what the character and bearing of their +legislation had been, and to estimate the chances of good government by +that kind of legislature, in comparison with the Imperial Parliament. + +If any foreign reader should suppose it impossible, that, in modern +times, there can have been hopes entertained in Dublin of the streets +being inundated with blood, such reader may be referred to the evidence +afforded of Repeal sentiment five years later than the time of which I +write. When the heroes of that rising of 1848--of whom John Mitchell +is the sample best known in America--were tracked in their plans and +devices, it appeared what their proposed methods of warfare were. Some +of these, detailed in Repeal newspapers, and copied into American +journals, were proposed to the patriotic women of Ireland, as their +peculiar means of serving their country; and three especially. Red-hot +iron hoops, my readers may remember, were to be cast down from +balconies, so as to pin the arms of English soldiers marching in the +street, and scorch their hearts. Vitriol was to be flung into their +eyes. Boiling oil was to be poured upon them from windows. This is +enough. Nobody believes that the thing would ever have been done; but +the lively and repeated discussion of it shows how the feelings of the +ignorant are perverted, and the passions of party-men are stimulated in +Ireland, when unscrupulous leaders arise, proposing irrational projects. +The consequences have been seen in Popish and Protestant fights in +Ulster, and in the midnight drill of Phoenix Clubs in Munster, and in +John Mitchell's passion for fat negroes in the Slave States of America. +In Ireland such notions are regarded now as a delirious dream, except +by a John Mitchell here and there. Smith O'Brien himself declares that +there is nothing to be done while the people of Ireland are satisfied +with the government they live under; and that, if it were otherwise, +nothing can be done for a people which either elects jobbers to +Parliament, or suspects every man of being a traitor who proceeds, when +there, to do the business of his function. I suspected that Patrick +would find out some of these things for himself in London; and I left +him to make his own discoveries, when I had pointed out one or two paths +of inquiry. + +The process was a more rapid one than I had anticipated. He reported his +first letter to the "Nation" with great satisfaction. He had begun his +work in London. He went to the House of Commons, and came away sorely +perplexed. After having heard and written so much of the wrongs of +Ireland under the domination of the English Parliament, he found that +Ireland actually and practically formed a part of that Parliament,--the +legislature being, not English, but Imperial. He must have known this +before; but he had never felt it. He now saw that Ireland was as well +represented as England or Scotland; that political offices were held in +fair proportion by Irishmen; and that the Irish members engrossed much +more than a fair share of the national time in debate and projects of +legislation. He saw at once that here was an end of all excuse for talk +of oppression by Parliament, and of all complaints which assumed that +Ireland was unrepresented. He was previously aware that Ireland was +more lightly taxed than the rest of the empire. The question remained, +whether a local legislature would or would not be a better thing than a +share in the Imperial Parliament. This was a fair subject of argument; +but he must now dismiss all notions grounded on the mistake of Ireland +being unrepresented, and oppressed by the representatives of other +people. + +In the letter which disclosed these new views Patrick reported his visit +to O'Connell. He had reminded his friend, the junior O'Connell, of Dan's +invitation to him to go to see him in London; and he had looked forward +to their levee with delight and expectation. Whether he had candidly +expressed his thoughts about the actual representation of Ireland, I +don't know; but it was plain that he had not much enjoyed the interview. +O'Connell looked very well: the levee was crowded: O'Connell was +surrounded by ardent patriots: the junior O'Connell had led Patrick up +to his father with particular kindness. Still, there was no enthusiasm +in the report; and the next letter showed the reason why. Patrick could +not understand O'Connell at all. It was certain that Dan remembered him; +and he could not have forgotten the encouragement he gave him to write +on behalf of his country; yet now he was cold, even repellent in his +manner; and he tried to pretend that he did not know who Patrick was. +What could this mean? + +Again I trusted to Patrick's finding out for himself what it meant. To +be brief about a phase of human experience which has nothing new in it, +Patrick presently saw that the difficulty of governing Ireland by a +local legislature, and executive is this:--that no man is tolerated from +the moment he can do more than talk. Irish members under O'Connell's eye +were for the most part talkers only. Then and since, every Irishman +who accepts the office so vehemently demanded is suspected of a good +understanding with Englishmen, and soon becomes reviled as a traitor +and place-hunter. Between the mere talkers and the proscribed +office-holders, Ireland would get none of her business done, if the +Imperial Government did not undertake affairs, and see that Ireland was +taken care of by somebody or other. Patrick saw that this way of +putting Government in abeyance was a mild copy of what happened when a +Parliament sat in Dublin, perpetrating the most insolent tyranny and the +vilest jobs ever witnessed under any representative system. He told me, +very simply, that the people of Ireland should send to Parliament men +whom they could trust, and should trust them to act when there: the +people should either demand a share of office for their countrymen, or +make up their minds to go without; they ought not first to demand office +for Irishmen, and then call every Irishman a traitor and self-seeker who +took it. In a very short time he told me that he found he had much to +unlearn as well as learn: that many things of which he had been most +sure now turned out to be mistakes, and many very plain matters to be +exceedingly complicated; but that the one thing about which there could +be no mistake was, that, in such a state of opinion, he was no proper +guide for the readers of the "Nation," and he had accordingly sent in +his resignation of his appointment, together with some notices to the +editor of the different light in which Irish matters appear outside the +atmosphere of Repeal meetings. + +In thus cutting loose from his only means of pecuniary support, Patrick +forfeited also his patriotic character. He was as thoroughly ruined in +the eyes of Repealers as if he had denounced the "Saxon" one hour and +the next crept into some warm place in the Custom-House on his knees. +Here ended poor Patrick's short political life, after, I think, two +letters to the "Nation," and here ended all hope of aid from his +countrymen in London. His letter was very moving. He knew himself to be +mortified by O'Connell's behavior to him; but he felt that he could not +submit to be regarded with suspicion because he had come to see for +himself how matters stood. He did not give up Repeal yet: he only wanted +to study the case on better knowledge; and in order to have a +perfectly clear conscience and judgment, he gave up his only pecuniary +resource,--his love and a future home being in the distance, and always +in view, all the time. Here, in spite of some lingering of old hopes, +two scenes of his young life had closed. His Irish life was over, and +his hope of political service. + +I had before written about him to two or three literary friends in +London; and now I felt bound to see what could be done in opening a way +for him. He had obtained the insertion of a tale in a magazine, for +which he had one guinea in payment. This raised his spirits, and gave +him a hope of independence; for it was a parting of the clouds, and +there was no saying how much sunlight might be let down. He was willing +to apply himself to any drudgery; but his care to undertake nothing that +he was not sure of doing well was very striking. He might have obtained +good work as classical proof-corrector; but he feared, that, though his +classical attainments were good, his training had not qualified him +for the necessary accuracy. He had some employment of the sort, if I +remember right, which defrayed a portion of his small expenses. His +expenses were indeed small. He told me all his little gains and his +weekly outlay; and I was really afraid that he did not allow himself +sufficient food. Yet he knew that there was a little money in my hands, +when he wanted it. His letters became now very gay in spirits. He keenly +relished the society into which he was invited; and, on the other hand, +everybody liked him. It was amusing to me, in my sick room, three +hundred miles off, to hear of the impression he made, with his +innocence, his fresh delight in his new life, his candor, his modesty, +and his bright cleverness,--and then, again, to learn how diligently he +had set about learning what I, his correspondent, was really like. In +his dreams he had seen me very aged,--he thought upwards of eighty; and +he had never doubted of the fact being so. In one letter he told me, +that, finding a brother of mine was then in London, he was going that +afternoon to a public meeting to see him, in order to have some idea of +my aspect. A mutual friend told me afterwards that Patrick had come away +quite bewildered and disappointed. He had expected to see in my brother +a gray-haired ancient; whereas he found a man under forty. I really +believe he was disturbed that his dreams had misled him. Yet I never +observed any other sign of superstition in him. + +At last the happy day came when he had a literary task worthy of him,--a +sort of test of his capacity for reviewing. One of the friends to whom +I had introduced him was then sub-editor of the "Athenaeum,"--a weekly +periodical of higher reputation at that time than now. Patrick was +commissioned to review a book of some weight and consequence,--Sir +Robert Kane's "Industrial Resources of Ireland,"--and he did it so well +that the conductors hoped to give him a good deal of employment. What +they gave him would have led to more; and thus he really was justified +in his exultation at having come to London. I remember, that, in the +midst of his joy, he startled me by some light mention of his having +spit blood, after catching cold,--a thing which had happened before in +Ireland. In answer to my inquiries, my friends told me that he certainly +looked very delicate, but made light of it. It happened, unfortunately, +that he was obliged just then to change his lodging. He increased his +cold by going about in bad weather to look for another. He found one, +however, and settled himself, in hope of doing great things there. + +He had not been there a week before he rang his bell one day, and was +found bleeding from the lungs. His landlady called in a physician; +and it is probable that this gentleman did not know or suspect the +circumstances of his patient; for he not only ordered ice and various +expensive things, but took fees, while the poor patient was lying +forbidden to speak, and gnawed with anxiety as to where more money was +to come from, and with eagerness to get to work. His friends soon found +him out in his trouble; and I understood from him afterwards, and from +others who knew more about it than he did, that they were extremely +kind. I believe that one left a bank-note of a considerable amount at +the door, in a blank envelope. All charges were defrayed, and he was +bidden not to be anxious. Yet something must be done. What must it be? + +As soon as he was allowed to raise his head from his pillow, he wrote me +a note in pencil; and it afforded an opening for discussing his affairs +with him. He had some impression of his life's being in danger; for it +was now that he confided to me the whole story of his attachment, and +the sufferings attending it: but he was still sanguine about doing great +things in literature, and chafing at his unwilling idleness. I was +strongly of opinion that the best way of dealing with him was to be +perfectly open; and, after proposing that we should have no reserves, I +told him what (proceeding on his own report of his health) I should in +his place decide upon doing. His pride would cause him some pain in +either of the two courses which were open to him,--but, I thought, more +in one than the other. If he remained in his lodgings, he would break +his heart about being a burden (as he would say) to his friends; and he +would fret after work so as to give himself no chance of such recovery +as might be hoped for: whereas, if he could once cheerfully agree to +enter a hospital, he would have every chance of rallying, and all the +sooner for being free from any painful sense of obligation. If the +treatment should succeed, this passage in his life would be something to +smile at hereafter, or to look back upon with sound satisfaction; and if +not, he would have friends about him, just as he would in a lodging. + +The effect was what I wished. My letter gave no offence, and did him no +harm. He only begged for a few days more, before deciding that he might +satisfy himself whether he was getting well or not: if not, he would +cheerfully go wherever his friends advised, and believe that the plan +was the best for him. + +In those few days arrangements were made for his being received at +the Sanatorium,--an institution in which sick persons who had either +previously subscribed, or who were the nominees of subscribers, were +received, and well tended for a guinea a week, under the comfortable +circumstances of a private house. Each patient had a separate chamber; +and the medical attendance, diet, and arrangements were of a far higher +order than poor Patrick could have commanded in lodgings. Above all, the +resident surgeon--now a distinguished physician, superintendent of a +lunatic asylum--was a man to make a friend of,--a man of cultivated +mind, tender heart, and cheerful and gentle manners. Patrick won his +heart at once; and every note of Patrick's glowed with affection for +Doctor H--. After a few weeks of alternating hope and fear, after a +natural series of fluctuations of spirits, Patrick wrote me a remarkably +quiet letter. He told me that both his doctors had given him a plain +answer to his question whether he could recover. They had told him +that it was impossible; but he could not learn from them how long they +thought he would live. He saw now, however, that he must give up his +efforts to work. He believed he could have worked a little: but perhaps +he was no judge; and if he really was dying, he could not be wrong in +obeying the directions of those who had the care of him. Once afterwards +he told me that his physicians did not, he saw, expect him to live many +months,--perhaps not even many weeks. + +It was now clear to my mind what would please him best. I told him, +that, if he liked to furnish me with the address of that house in Dublin +in which his thoughts chiefly lived, I would take care that the young +lady there should know that he died in honor, having fairly entered upon +the literary career which had always been his aspiration, and surrounded +by friends whose friendship was a distinction. His words in reply were +few, calm, and fervent, intimating that he now had not a care left in +the world: and Doctor H--wondered what had happened to make him so gay +from the hour he received my letter. + +His decline was a rapid one; and I soon learned, by very short notes, +that he hardly left his bed. When it was supposed that he would never +leave his room again, he surprised the whole household by a great feat. +I should have related before what a favorite he was with all the other +patients. He was the sunshine of the house while able to get to the +drawing-room, and the pet of each invalid by the chamber-fire. On +Christmas morning, he slipped out of bed, and managed to get his clothes +on, while alone, and was met outside his own door, bent on giving a +Christmas greeting to everybody in the house. He was indulged in this; +for it was of little consequence now what he did. He appeared at each +bedside, and at every sofa,--and not with any moving sentiment, but with +genuine gayety. It was full in his thoughts that he had not many days to +live, but he hoped the others had; and he entered into their prospect +of renewed health and activity. At night they said that Patrick had +brightened their Christmas Day. + +He died very soon after,--sinking at last with perfect +consciousness,--writing messages to me on his slate while his fingers +would hold the pencil,--calm and cheerful without intermission. After +his death, when the last offices were to be begun, my letters were taken +warm from his breast. Every line that I had ever written to him was +there; and the packet was sent to me by Doctor H--bound round with the +green ribbon which he had himself tied before he quite lost the power. +The kind friends who had watched over him during the months of his +London life wrote to me not to trouble myself about his funeral. They +buried him honorably, and two of his distinguished friends followed him +to the grave. + +Of course, I immediately performed my promise. I had always intended +that not only the young lady, but her father, should know what we +thought of Patrick, and what he might have been, if he had lived. I +wrote to that potential personage, telling him of all the facts of the +case, except the poverty, which might be omitted as essentially a slight +and temporary circumstance. I reported of his life of industry and +simple self-denial,--of his prospects, his friendships, his sweet and +gay decline and departure, and his honorable funeral. No answer was +needed; and I had supposed there would hardly be one. If there should +be one, it was not likely to be very congenial to the mood of Patrick's +friends: but I could hardly have conceived of anything so bad as it was. +The man wrote that it was not wonderful that any young man should get on +under the advantage of my patronage; and that it was to be hoped that +this young man would have turned out more worthy of such patronage than +he was when he ungratefully returned his obligations to his employer by +engaging the affections of his daughter. The young man had caused great +trouble and anxiety to one who, now he was dead, was willing to forgive +him; but no circumstance could ever change the aspect of his conduct, +in regard to his treacherous behavior to his benefactor; and so forth. +There was no sign of any consciousness of imprudence on the father's +own part; but strong indications of vindictive hatred, softened in +the expression by being mixed up with odious flatteries to Patrick's +literary friends. The only compensation for the disgust of this letter +was the confirmation it afforded of Patrick's narrative, in which, it +was clear, he had done no injustice to his oppressor. + +I have not bestowed so much thought as this on the man and his letter, +from the day I received it, till now; but it was necessary to speak of +it at the close of the story. I lose sight of the painful incidents in +thinking of Patrick himself. I only wish I had once seen his face, that +I might know how near the truth is the image that I have formed of him. + +There may have been, there no doubt have been, other such young +Irishmen, whose lives have been misdirected for want of the knowledge +which Patrick gained in good time by the accident of his coming to +England. I fear that many such have lived a life of turbulence, +or impotent discontent, under the delusion that their country was +politically oppressed. The mistake may now be considered at an end. +It is sufficiently understood in Ireland that her woes have been from +social and not political causes, from the day of Catholic emancipation. +But it is a painful thought what Patrick's short life might have been, +if he had remained under the O'Connell influence; and what the lives of +hundreds more have been,--rendered wild by delusion, and wretched by +strife and lawlessness, for want of a gleam of that clear daylight which +made a sound citizen of a passionate Young Repealer. + + + + +BREAD AND THE NEWSPAPER. + + +This is the new version of the _Panem et Circenses_ of the Roman +populace. It is our _ultimatum_, as that was theirs. They must have +something to eat, and the circus-shows to look at. We must have +something to eat, and the papers to read. + +Everything else we can give up. If we are rich, we can lay down our +carriages, stay away from Newport or Saratoga, and adjourn the trip to +Europe _sine die_. If we live in a small way, there are at least new +dresses and bonnets and every-day luxuries which we can dispense with. +If the young Zouave of the family looks smart in his new uniform, +its respectable head is content, though he himself grow seedy as a +caraway-umbel late in the season. He will cheerfully calm the perturbed +nap of his old beaver by patient brushing in place of buying a new one, +if only the Lieutenant's jaunty cap is what it should be. We all take a +pride in sharing the epidemic economy of the time. Only _bread and the +newspaper_ we must have, whatever else we do without. + +How this war is simplifying our mode of being! We live on our emotions, +as the sick man is said in the common speech to be nourished by his +fever. Our common mental food has become distasteful, and what would +have been intellectual luxuries at other times are now absolutely +repulsive. + +All this change in our manner of existence implies that we have +experienced some very profound impression, which will sooner or later +betray itself in permanent effects on the minds and bodies of many among +us. We cannot forget Corvisart's observation of the frequency with which +diseases of the heart were noticed as the consequence of the terrible +emotions produced by the scenes of the great French Revolution. Laennec +tells the story of a convent, of which he was the medical director, +where all the nuns were subjected to the severest penances and schooled +in the most painful doctrines. They all became consumptive soon after +their entrance, so that, in the course of his ten years' attendance, all +the inmates died out two or three times, and were replaced by new ones. +He does not hesitate to attribute the disease from which they suffered +to those depressing moral influences to which they were subjected. + +So far we have noticed little more than disturbances of the nervous +system as a consequence of the war excitement in non-combatants. Take +the first trifling example which comes to our recollection. A sad +disaster to the Federal army was told the other day in the presence of +two gentlemen and a lady. Both the gentlemen complained of a sudden +feeling at the _epigastrium_, or, less learnedly, the pit of the +stomach, changed color, and confessed to a slight tremor about the +knees. The lady had a _"grande revolution_," as French patients +say,--went home, and kept her bed for the rest of the day. Perhaps the +reader may smile at the mention of such trivial indispositions, but in +more sensitive natures death itself follows in some cases from no more +serious cause. An old gentleman fell senseless in fatal apoplexy, on +hearing of Napoleon's return from Elba. One of our early friends, who +recently died of the same complaint, was thought to have had his attack +mainly in consequence of the excitements of the time. + +We all know what the _war fever_ is in our young men,--what a devouring +passion it becomes in those whom it assails. Patriotism is the fire +of it, no doubt, but this is fed with fuel of all sorts. The love of +adventure, the contagion of example, the fear of losing the chance of +participating in the great events of the time, the desire of personal +distinction, all help to produce those singular transformations which +we often witness, turning the most peaceful of our youth into the most +ardent of our soldiers. But something of the same fever in a different +form reaches a good many non-combatants, who have no thought of losing a +drop of precious blood belonging to themselves or their families. Some +of the symptoms we shall mention are almost universal; they are as plain +in the people we meet everywhere as the marks of an influenza, when that +is prevailing. + +The first is a nervous restlessness of a very peculiar character. Men +cannot think, or write, or attend to their ordinary business. They +stroll up and down the streets, they saunter out upon the public places. +We confessed to an illustrious author that we laid down the volume +of his work which we were reading when the war broke out. It was as +interesting as a romance, but the romance of the past grew pale before +the red light of the terrible present. Meeting the same author not long +afterwards, he confessed that he had laid down his pen at the same time +that we had closed his book. He could not write about the sixteenth +century any more than we could read about it, while the nineteenth was +in the very agony and bloody sweat of its great sacrifice. + +Another most eminent scholar told us in all simplicity that he had +fallen into such a state that he would read the same telegraphic +despatches over and over again in different papers, as if they were +new, until he felt as if he were an idiot. Who did not do just the same +thing, and does not often do it still, now that the first flush of the +fever is over? Another person always goes through the side streets on +his way for the noon _extra_,--he is so afraid somebody will meet him +and _tell_ the news he wishes to _read_, first on the bulletin-board, +and then in the great capitals and leaded type of the newspaper. + +When any startling piece of war-news comes, it keeps repeating itself +in our minds in spite of all we can do. The same trains of thought go +tramping round in circle through the brain like the supernumeraries that +make up the grand army of a stage-show. Now, if a thought goes round +through the brain a thousand times in a day, it will have worn as +deep a track as one which has passed through it once a week for +twenty years. This accounts for the ages we seem to have lived +since the twelfth of April last, and, to state it more generally, for +that _ex post facto_ operation of a great calamity, or any very powerful +impression, which we once illustrated by the image of a stain spreading +backwards from the leaf of life open before us through all those which +we have already turned. + +Blessed are those who can sleep quietly in times like these! Yet, not +wholly blessed, either; for what is more painful than the awaking from +peaceful unconsciousness to a sense that there is something wrong, we +cannot at first think what,--and then groping our way about through the +twilight of our thoughts until we come full upon the misery, which, like +some evil bird, seemed to have flown away, but which sits waiting for us +on its perch by our pillow in the gray of the morning? + +The converse of this is perhaps still more painful. Many have the +feeling in their waking hours that the trouble they are aching with is, +after all, only a dream,--if they will rub their eyes briskly enough and +shake themselves, they will awake out of it, and find all their supposed +grief is unreal. This attempt to cajole ourselves out of an ugly fact +always reminds us of those unhappy flies who have been indulging in the +dangerous sweets of the paper prepared for their especial use. + +Watch one of them. He does not feel quite well,--at least, he suspects +himself of indisposition. Nothing serious,--let us just rub our +fore-feet together, as the enormous creature who provides for us rubs +his hands, and all will be right. He rubs them with that peculiar +twisting movement of his, and pauses for the effect. No! all is not +quite right yet.--Ah! it is our head that is not set on just as it ought +to be. Let us settle _that_ where it should be, and _then_ we shall +certainly be in good trim again. So he pulls his head about as an old +lady adjusts her cap, and passes his fore-paw over it like a kitten +washing herself.--Poor fellow! It is not a fancy, but a fact, that he +has to deal with. If he could read the letters at the head of the sheet, +he would see they were _Fly-Paper_.--So with us, when, in our waking +misery, we try to think we dream! Perhaps very young persons may not +understand this; as we grow older, our waking and dreaming life run more +and more into each other. + +Another symptom of our excited condition is seen in the breaking up of +old habits. The newspaper is as imperious as a Russian Ukase; it will be +had, and it will be read. To this all else must give place. If we must +go out at unusual hours to get it, we shall go, in spite of after-dinner +nap or evening somnolence. If it finds us in company, it will not stand +on ceremony, but cuts short the compliment and the story by the divine +right of its telegraphic despatches. + +War is a very old story, but it is a new one to this generation of +Americans. Our own nearest relation in the ascending line remembers the +Revolution well. How should she forget it? Did she not lose her doll, +which was left behind, when she was carried out of Boston, then growing +uncomfortable by reason of cannon-balls dropping in from the neighboring +heights at all hours,--in token of which see the tower of Brattle-Street +Church at this very day? War in her memory means '76. As for the brush +of 1812, "we did not think much about that"; and everybody knows that +the Mexican business did not concern us much, except in its political +relations. No! War is a new thing to all of us who are not in the last +quarter of their century. We are learning many strange matters from our +fresh experience. And besides, there are new conditions of existence +which make war as it is with us very different from war as it has been. + +The first and obvious difference consists in the fact that the whole +nation is now penetrated by the ramifications of a network of iron +nerves which flash sensation and volition backward and forward to and +from towns and provinces as if they were organs and limbs of a single +living body. The second is the vast system of iron muscles which, as it +were, move the limbs of the mighty organism one upon another. What was +the railroad-force which put the Sixth Regiment in Baltimore on the 19th +of April but a contraction and extension of the arm of Massachusetts +with a clenched fist full of bayonets at the end of it? + +This perpetual intercommunication, joined to the power of instantaneous +action, keeps us always alive with excitement. It is not a breathless +courier who comes back with the report from an army we have lost sight +of for a month, nor a single bulletin which tells us all we are to know +for a week of some great engagement, but almost hourly paragraphs, laden +with truth or falsehood as the case may be, making us restless always +for the last fact or rumor they are telling. And so of the movements of +our armies. To-night the stout lumbermen of Maine are encamped under +their own fragrant pines. In a score or two of hours they are among the +tobacco-fields and the slave-pens of Virginia. The war passion burned +like scattered coals of fire in the households of Revolutionary times; +now it rushes all through the land like a flame over the prairie. And +this instant diffusion of every fact and feeling produces another +singular effect in the equalizing and steadying of public opinion. We +may not be able to see a month ahead of us; but as to what has passed, +a week afterwards it is as thoroughly talked out and judged as it would +have been in a whole season before our national nervous system was +organized. + + "As the wild tempest wakes the slumbering sea, + Thou only teachest all that man can be!" + +We indulged in the above apostrophe to War in a Phi Beta Kappa poem of +long ago, which we liked better before we read Mr. Cutler's beautiful +prolonged lyric delivered at the recent anniversary of that Society. + +Oftentimes, in paroxysms of peace and good-will towards all mankind, we +have felt twinges of conscience about the passage,--especially when one +of our orators showed us that a ship of war costs as much to build and +keep as a college, and that every port-hole we could stop would give us +a new professor. Now we begin to think that there was some meaning in +our poor couplet. War _has_ taught us, as nothing else could, what we +can be and are. It has exalted our manhood and our womanhood, and driven +us all back upon our substantial human qualities, for a long time more +or less kept out of sight by the spirit of commerce, the love of art, +science, or literature, or other qualities not belonging to all of us as +men and women. + +It is at this very moment doing more to melt away the petty social +distinctions which keep generous souls apart from each other, than the +preaching of the Beloved Disciple himself would do. We are finding out +that not only "patriotism is eloquence," but that heroism is gentility. +All ranks are wonderfully equalized under the fire of a masked battery. +The plain artisan or the rough fireman, who faces the lead and iron like +a man, is the truest representative we can show of the heroes of +Crecy and Agincourt. And if one of our fine gentlemen puts off his +straw-colored kids and stands by the other, shoulder to shoulder, or +leads him on to the attack, he is as honorable in our eyes and in theirs +as if he were ill-dressed and his hands were soiled with labor. + +Even our poor "Brahmins,"--whom a critic in ground-glass spectacles (the +same who grasps his statistics by the blade and strikes at his +supposed antagonist with the handle) oddly confounds with the "bloated +aristocracy," whereas they are very commonly pallid, undervitalized, +shy, sensitive creatures, whose only birthright is an aptitude for +learning,--even these poor New England Brahmins of ours, _subvirates_ +of an organizable base as they often are, count as full men, if their +courage is big enough for the uniform which hangs so loosely about their +slender figures. + +A young man was drowned not very long ago in the river running under our +windows. A few days afterwards a field-piece was dragged to the water's +edge and fired many times over the river. We asked a bystander, who +looked like a fisherman, what that was for. It was to "break the gall," +he said, and so bring the drowned person to the surface. A strange +physiological fancy and a very odd _non sequitur_; but that is not our +present point. A good many extraordinary objects do really come to the +surface when the great guns of war shake the waters, as when they roared +over Charleston harbor. + +Treason came up, hideous, fit only to be huddled into its dishonorable +grave. But the wrecks of precious virtues, which had been covered with +the waves of prosperity, came up also. And all sorts of unexpected and +unheard-of things, which had lain unseen during our national life of +fourscore years, came up and are coming up daily, shaken from their bed +by the concussions of the artillery bellowing around us. + +It is a shame to own it, but there were persons otherwise respectable +not unwilling to say that they believed the old valor of Revolutionary +times had died out from among us. They talked about our own Northern +people as the English in the last centuries used to talk about the +French,--Goldsmith's old soldier, it may be remembered, called one +Englishman good for five of them. As Napoleon spoke of the English, +again, as a nation of shopkeepers, so these persons affected to consider +the multitude of their countrymen as unwarlike artisans,--forgetting +that Paul Revere taught himself the value of liberty in working upon +gold, and Nathaniel Greene fitted himself to shape armies in the labor +of forging iron. + +These persons have learned better now. The bravery of our free +working-people was overlaid, but not smothered, sunken, but not drowned. +The hands which had been busy conquering the elements had only to change +their weapons and their adversaries, and they were as ready to conquer +the masses of living force opposed to them as they had been to build +towns, to dam rivers, to hunt whales, to harvest ice, to hammer brute +matter into every shape civilization can ask for. + +Another great fact came to the surface, and is coming up every day in +new shapes,--that we are one people. It is easy to say that a man is a +man in Maine or Minnesota, but not so easy to feel it, all through our +bones and marrow. The camp is deprovincializing us very fast. Poor +Winthrop, marching with the city _élégants_, seems almost to have been +astonished to find how wonderfully human were the hard-handed men of the +Eighth Massachusetts. It takes all the nonsense out of everybody, or +ought to do it, to see how fairly the real manhood of a country is +distributed over its surface. And then, just as we are beginning to +think our own soil has a monopoly of heroes as well as of cotton, up +turns a regiment of gallant Irishmen, like the Sixty-Ninth, to show us +that continental provincialism is as bad as that of Coos County, New +Hampshire, or of Broadway, New York. + +Here, too, side by side in the same great camp, are half a dozen +chaplains, representing half a dozen modes of religious belief. When the +masked battery opens, does the "Baptist" Lieutenant believe in his +heart that God takes better care of him than of his "Congregationalist" +Colonel? Does any man really suppose, that, of a score of noble young +fellows who have just laid down their lives for their country, +the _Homoousians_ are received to the mansions of bliss, and the +_Homoiousians_ translated from the battle-field to the abodes of +everlasting woe? War not only teaches what man can be, but it teaches +also what he must not be. He must not be a bigot and a fool in the +presence of that day of judgment proclaimed by the trumpet which calls +to battle, and where a man should have but two thoughts: to do his duty, +and trust his Maker. Let our brave dead come back from the fields where +they have fallen for law and liberty, and if you will follow them to +their graves, you will find out what the Broad Church means; the narrow +church is sparing of its exclusive formulae over the coffins wrapped in +the flag which the fallen heroes had defended! Very little comparatively +do we hear at such times of the dogmas on which men differ; very much of +the faith and trust in which all sincere Christians can agree. It is a +noble lesson, and nothing less noisy than the voice of cannon can teach +it so that it shall be heard over all the angry voices of theological +disputants. + +Now, too, we have a chance to test the sagacity of our friends, and to +get at their principles of judgment. Perhaps most of us will agree that +our faith in domestic prophets has been diminished by the experience of +the last six months. We had the notable predictions attributed to the +Secretary of State, which so unpleasantly refused to fulfil themselves. +We were infested at one time with a set of ominous-looking seers, who +shook their heads and muttered obscurely about some mighty preparations +that were making to substitute the rule of the minority for that of the +majority. Organizations were darkly hinted at; some thought our armories +would be seized; and there are not wanting ancient women in the +neighboring University town who consider that the country was saved by +the intrepid band of students who stood guard, night after night, over +the G.R. cannon and the pile of balls in the Cambridge Arsenal. + +As a general rule, it is safe to say that the best prophecies are those +which the sages _remember_ after the event prophesied of has come to +pass, and remind us that they have made long ago. Those who are rash +enough to predict publicly beforehand commonly give us what they hope, +or what they fear, or some conclusion from an abstraction of their own, +or some guess founded on private information not half so good as what +everybody gets who reads the papers,--_never_ by any possibility a word +that we can depend on, simply because there are cob-webs of contingency +between every to-day and to-morrow that no field-glass can penetrate +when fifty of them lie woven one over another. Prophesy as much as you +like, but always _hedge_. Say that you think the rebels are weaker than +is commonly supposed, but, on the other hand, that they may prove to be +even stronger than is anticipated. Say what you like,--only don't be too +peremptory and dogmatic; we _know_ that wiser men than you have been +notoriously deceived in their predictions in this very matter. + + _Ibis et redibis nunquam in bello peribis._ + +Let that be your model; and remember, on peril of your reputation as a +prophet, not to put a stop before or after the _nunquam_. + +There are two or three facts connected with _time_, besides that already +referred to, which strike us very forcibly in their relation to the +great events passing around us. We spoke of the long period seeming to +have elapsed since this war began. The buds were then swelling which +held the leaves that are still green. It seems as old as Time himself. +We cannot fail to observe how the mind brings together the scenes of +to-day and those of the old Revolution. We shut up eighty years into +each other like the joints of a pocket-telescope. When the young men +from Middlesex dropped in Baltimore the other day, it seemed to bring +Lexington and the other Nineteenth of April close to us. War has always +been the mint in which the world's history has been coined, and now +every day or week or month has a new medal for us. It was Warren that +the first impression bore in the last great coinage; if it is Ellsworth +now, the new face hardly seems fresher than the old. All battle-fields +are alike in their main features. The young fellows who fell in our +earlier struggle seemed like old men to us until within these few +months; now we remember they were like these fiery youth we are cheering +as they go to the fight; it seems as if the grass of our bloody +hill-side was crimsoned but yesterday, and the cannon-ball imbedded in +the church-tower would feel warm, if we laid our hand upon it. + +Nay, in this our quickened life we feel that all the battles from +earliest time to our own day, where Right and Wrong have grappled, are +but one great battle, varied with brief pauses or hasty bivouacs upon +the field of conflict. The issues seem to vary, but it is always a +right against a claim, and, however the struggle of the hour may go, a +movement onward of the campaign, which uses defeat as well as victory to +serve its mighty ends. The very weapons of our warfare change less than +we think. Our bullets and cannon-balls have lengthened into bolts like +those which whistled out of old arbalests. Our soldiers fight with +Bowie-knives, such as are pictured on the walls of Theban tombs, wearing +a newly-invented head-gear as old as the days of the Pyramids. + +Whatever miseries this war brings upon us, it is making us wiser, +and, we trust, better. Wiser, for we are learning our weakness, our +narrowness, our selfishness, our ignorance, in lessons of sorrow and +shame. Better, because all that is noble in men and women is demanded by +the time, and our people are rising to the standard the time calls for. +For this is the question the hour is putting to each of us: Are you +ready, if need be, to sacrifice all that you have and hope for in this +world, that the generations to follow you may inherit a whole country +whose natural condition shall be peace, and not a broken province which +must live under the perpetual threat, if not in the constant presence, +of war and all that war brings with it? If we are all ready for this +sacrifice, battles may be lost, but the campaign and its grand object +must be won. + +Heaven is very kind in its way of putting questions to mortals. We are +not abruptly asked to give up all that we most care for, in view of the +momentous issues before us. Perhaps we shall never be asked to give up +all, but we have already been called upon to part with much that is dear +to us, and should be ready to yield the rest as it is called for. The +time may come when even the cheap public print shall be a burden our +means cannot support, and we can only listen in the square that was once +the market-place to the voices of those who proclaim defeat or victory. +Then there will be only our daily food left. When we have nothing to +read and nothing to eat, it will be a favorable moment to offer a +compromise. At present we have all that Nature absolutely demands,--we +can live on bread and the newspaper. + + * * * * * + + +"UNDER THE CLOUD AND THROUGH THE SEA." + + + So moved they, when false Pharaoh's legion pressed, + Chariots and horsemen following furiously,-- + Sons of old Israel, at their God's behest, + Under the cloud and through the swelling sea. + + So passed they, fearless, where the parted wave, + With cloven crest uprearing from the sand,-- + A solemn aisle before,--behind, a grave,-- + Rolled to the beckoning of Jehovah's hand. + + So led He them, in desert marches grand, + By toils sublime, with test of long delay, + On, to the borders of that Promised Land + Wherein their heritage of glory lay. + + And Jordan raged along his rocky bed, + And Amorite spears flashed keen and fearfully: + Still the same pathway must their footsteps tread,-- + Under the cloud and through the threatening sea. + + God works no otherwise. No mighty birth + But comes by throes of mortal agony; + No man-child among nations of the earth + But findeth baptism in a stormy sea. + + Sons of the Saints who faced their Jordan-flood + In fierce Atlantic's unretreating wave,-- + Who by the Red Sea of their glorious blood + Reached to the Freedom that your blood shall save! + + O Countrymen! God's day is not yet done! + He leaveth not His people utterly! + Count it a covenant, that He leads us on + Beneath the Cloud and through the crimson Sea! + + + + +JOURNAL OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. + + +The following journal was written by the Captain's Quartermaster on +board the Sloop Revenge, of Newport, Rhode Island, on a cruise against +the Spaniards in the year 1741. Rhode Island was famous at that time +for the number and the success of her privateers. There was but little +objection felt to the profession of privateering. Franklin had not yet +roused by his effective protest the moral sentiment of the civilized +world against it. The privateers that were fitted out in those days were +intended for service against foreign enemies; they were not manned by +rebels, with design to ruin their loyal fellow-citizens. England and +Spain were at war, and the West Indian seas were white with the sails of +national fleets and private armed vessels. Privateering afforded a vent +for the active and restless spirits of the colonies; it was not without +some creditable associations; and the life of a privateersman was full +of the charms of novelty, adventure, and risk. This journal shows +something of its character. + +A journal _of all the transactions on board the sloop_ REVENGE, _Benj'n +Norton Com'r by God's grace and under his protection, bound on a +cruising voyage against the Spaniards. Begun June the 5th, 1741_. + +_Friday, 5th._ This day, at 4 A.M., the Cap't went from Taylor's wharf +on board his sloop, which lay off of Connanicut, & at 6 o'clock Cap't +John Freebody [the chief owner] came off in the pinnace with several +hands. We directly weighed anchor with 40 hands, officers included, +bound to New York to get more hands, a Doctor, and some more provisions +and other stores we stood in need of. The wind coming contrary, was +obliged to put back. Came to an anchor again under Connanicut at 8 P.M. + +_Saturday, 6th._ Weighed from under Connanicut at 4 A.M. with a small +breeze of wind. Met several vessells bound to Newport and Boston. At 7 +P.M. anchored under Block Island, over against the £10,000 Pear [pier?]. +Bought 10s. worth of Codfish for the people. + +_Sunday, 7th._ About 4 A.M. weighed from Block Island, and Monday, the +8th instant, at 9 A.M., anchored in Huntington Bay. + +_Tuesday, 9th._ Weighed from Huntington Bay at 3 P.M. At 11 came to the +white stone. Fired a gun & beat the drum to let them know what we were. +The Ferryboat came off & told us we could not get hands at York, for the +sloops fitted by the country had got them all. At 12 came to anchor at +the 2 Brothers. At 4 took an acc't of all the provisions on board, with +the cost; together with a list of all the people on board. Price, a hand +that came with us from Rhode Island, askt leave to go to York to see +his wife. Set a shilling crazy fellow ashore, not thinking him fit to +proceed the Voyage, his name unknown to me. + +_Wednesday, 10th._ This morning, about 5 A.M., Cap't Freebody went up to +York in the pinnace to get provisions and leave to beat about for more +hands. At 1 P.M. the Pinnace returned and brought word to Cap't Norton +from Mr. Freebody that he had waited on his Honour the Gov'r, and that +he would not give him leave to beat up for Volunteers. The chief reason +he gave was that the City was thinned of hands by the 2 country sloops +that were fitted out by the Council to cruise after the Spanish +privateers on the coast, and that his Grace the Duke of Newcastle had +wrote him word, that, if Admiral Vernon or Gen. Wentworth[A] should +write for more recruits, to use his endeavors to get them, so that he +could not give encouragement to any privateers to take their men away. +Three of the hands that went up to York left us. At 4 P.M. Edward +Sampford, our pilot, went ashore in a canoe with four more hands, +without leave from the Cap'n. When he came on board again the Cap'n +talked to him, & found that he was a mutinous, quarrelsome fellow, and +so ordered him to bundle up his clothes & go ashore for good. He carried +with him 5 more hands. After they were gone, I read the articles to +those on board, who readily signed; so hope we shall lead a peaceable +life. Remain, out of the 41 hands that came with us from Rhode Island, +29 hands. + +[Footnote A: Admiral Vernon (whose name is familiar to every +American,--Mount Vernon was named in his honor) was in command of +the British fleet in the Spanish Main. General Wentworth, an officer +"without experience, authority, or resolution," had command of the land +forces in the West Indies. All the North American, colonies, except +Georgia, which was too recently settled, and whose own borders were too +much exposed, had been called upon to give aid to the expedition against +the Spaniards, and a regiment thirty-six hundreds strong was actually +supplied by them. The war was one in which the colonists took an active +interest.] + +_Friday, 12th._ Went to York with a letter from the Cap'n to Mr. +Freebody, who ordered the vessel up to York. Three of our hands left me +to see some negroes burnt,[B] took a pilot in to bring the vessel up, +and so returned on board at 3 P.M. + +[Footnote B: This little, indifferent phrase refers to one of the most +shocking and cruel incidents of the colonial history of New York, the +result of a delusion "less notorious," says Mr. Hildreth, (_Hist, of +the United States, ii. 391_,) "but not less lamentable, than the Salem +witchcraft. The city of New York now contained some seven or eight +thousand inhabitants, of whom twelve or fifteen hundred were slaves. +Nine fires in rapid succession, most of them, however, merely the +burning of chimneys, produced a perfect insanity of terror. An indented +servant-woman purchased her liberty and secured a reward of one hundred +pounds by pretending to give information of a plot formed by a low +tavern-keeper, her master, and three negroes, to burn the city and +murder the whites. This story was confirmed and amplified by an Irish +prostitute convicted of a robbery, who, to recommend herself to mercy, +reluctantly turned informer. Numerous arrests had been already made +among the slaves and free blacks. Many others followed. The eight +lawyers who then composed the bar of New York all assisted by turns in +behalf of the prosecution. The prisoners, who had no counsel, were tried +and convicted upon most insufficient evidence. Many confessed to save +their lives, and then accused others. Thirteen unhappy convicts were +burned at the stake, eighteen were hanged, and seventy-one transported." +Such are the panics of a slaveholding community!] + +_Saturday, 13th._ At 5 A.M. weighed from the 2 Brothers and went to +York. At 7 anchored off the town. Saluted it with 7 guns. Ship't 7 hands +to proceed the voyage. + +_Sunday, 14th._ Between 6 & 7 A.M. came in a brig from Aberdeen with 40 +servants,[C] but brings no news. + +[Footnote C: At this time much of the agricultural and domestic labor in +the colonies, especially south of New England, was performed by indented +servants brought from Great Britain, Ireland, and Germany. They were +generally an ill-used class. Their services were purchased of the +captains who brought them over; the purchaser had a legal property in +them during the time they were bound for, could sell or bequeath them, +and, like other chattels, they were liable to be seized for debts.] + +_Thursday, 18th._ At 11 A.M. our pilot came on board with 4 of our men +that had left us when the Cap'n turned Edward Sampford ashore. At 2 P.M. +the Cap'n ordered our gunner to deliver arms to them that had none. +25 hands fitted themselves. Great firing at our buoy, supposing him a +Spaniard. I hope to God their courage may be as good, if ever they meet +with any. + +_Saturday, 20th._ At 10 A.M. there came in the Squirrel man of war, +Cap'n Warren[D] Com'r, from Jamaica, who informed us that Admiral Vernon +had taken all the forts at Carthagena except one, and the town.[E] We +saluted him with 3 guns, having no more loaded. He returned us one, and +we gave three cheers, which were returned by the ship. He further told +the Captain, that, if he would come up to York, he would put him on a +route which would be of service to his voyage. + +[Footnote D: Captain, afterward Sir Peter Warren, was a distinguished +naval officer in his day. In 1745 he was made Rear-Admiral for his +services at the siege of Louisbourg. He married in New York.] + +[Footnote E: The report of the taking of Cartagena was false, and the +colonists were greatly disappointed at the failure of Vernon's great +enterprise.] + +_Tuesday, 23d._ Wrote a letter, by the Captain's order, to get Davison +to go as mate with us. Our Captain went to York to carry it to Capt. +Potter. At 3 P.M. came in a sloop from Jamaica, in a 20 days passage, +from which we learn that Admiral Vernon's fleet was fitting out for +Cuba.[F] I wish them more success than what they got against Carthagena; +for by all report they got more blows than honour. At 4 P.M. the Captain +returned and brought a hand with him, John Watson, Clerk of a Dutch +church. + +[Footnote F: Five hundred additional men were sent from Massachusetts +to take part in this new expedition. It was a total failure, like the +preceding one, and Few of the colonial troops lived to return home.] + +_Wednesday, 24th._ About 10 A.M. the pilot came on board with a message +from Capt Freebody, who was returned from Long Island, to agree with a +Doctor who had offered to go with us. At 1 P.M. came in a sloop from +Jamaica, a prize of Capt Warren, which had formerly been taken by the +Spaniards. She belonged to Providence, and had been retaken by the +Squirrel. At 6 P.M. Mr. Stone & the Doctor came on board to see the +Captain, but, he being at York, they went there to see him. + +_Thursday, 25th._ Nothing remarkable the fore part of the day, but +quarreling not worth mentioning. At 1 P.M. a sloop came in from Jamaica, +and brought for news that they had spoken an English man of war at Port +Marant, by which they had been informed that a fresh war was daily +expected; also that the Bay was entirely cut off by the Spaniards. No +Doctor as yet, for he that the Captain went to agree with was a drunkard +and an extortioner, so we are better without him than with him. + +_Friday, 26th._ The most remarkablest day this great while. All has +been peace & quietness. Three ships came down the Narrows, one bound to +London, another bound to Newfoundland, & the third to Ireland. + +_Saturday, 27th._ This morning, about 10, the Cap't went to York to take +his leave of Cap't Freebody, who was going to Rhode Island. At 2 P.M. +he came on board & brought with him 2 bb's of pork. At 3 came in a +privateer from Bermudas, Capt Love Com'r, who came here for provisions +for himself & his consort, who waited for him there. This day we heard +that the two country sloops were expected in by Wednesday next. Lord +send it, for we only wait for them in hopes of getting a Doctor & some +more hands to make up our complement. + +_Friday, July 3d._ At 5 A.M. we saw three hands who had left us the day +before on board the Humming Bird privateer, who had been enticed by some +of the owners to leave us by making of them drunk. About 10 we saw their +canoe going ashore with our hands in her, also Joseph Ferrow, whom we +had brought from Rhode Island, and since given him clothes, but who +had entered on board that sloop as boatswain. As soon as they had done +watering, and were returning to the ship, we manned our pinnace, and, +having boarded their canoe, took our three hands out of her, and brought +them and Joseph Ferrow aboard. Some time after, the Humming Bird's canoe +coming alongside, Ferrow jumpt into it, and they put off. Our pinnace +being hauled up in the tackles, we immediately let her down, but +unfortunately the plug was out, and the hands which had jumped into her +being raw, she almost filled with water, which caused such confusion +that the canoe got on board before we got off. Our hands then went to +demand Ferrow, but the privateersmen got out their arms and would not +suffer us to board them. At 4 P.M. the Cap' of the little Privateer came +on board of us to know the reason of the disturbance between his people +and ours. Our Captain told him the reason, and forbid him to carry that +fellow away, for, if he did, he might chance to hear of him in the West +Indies, &, if he did, he would go 100 leagues to meet him, and take ten +for one, and break up his voyage, & send him home to his owners, and +give his people a good dressing. (I don't doubt but he'll be as good as +his word.) Opened a bbl of bread. Thunder and lightning with a great +deal of rain. + +_Saturday, 4th._ This morning, about 5 A.M., came in a ship from +Marblehead bound to S'o Carolina. She had lost her main mast, mizzen +mast, & fore topmast. In Latitude 35 she met with a hard gale of wind +which caused the disaster, and obliged her to put in to New York to +refit. About 11 o'clock the Humming Bird weighed anchor for Philadelphia +to get hands. At 4 P.M. the Lieu't and 2 sergeants belonging to Capt +Rigg's Company came on board to look for some soldiers who were supposed +to be on board the Humming Bird, which was lying off Coney Island, but, +the wind and tide proving contrary, they were obliged to return. At 6 +came in a ship from Lisbon, having made the passage in 6 weeks; also a +sloop from Turks Island: both loaded with salt. The ship appearing to be +a lofty vessel, our people were panic struck with fear, taking her for a +70 gun ship, and, as we had several deserters from the men at war, they +desired the Cap't to hoist the Jack and lower our pennant as a signal +for our pinnace, which was then ashore, so that, if she proved to be a +man of war, they might get ashore, and clear of the press. But it proved +quite the contrary; for the ship & sloop's crew, taking us, by the +signal we had made for our pinnace, for a tender of a man of war, laying +there to press hands, quitted their vessels and ran ashore, as soon as +they saw our pinnace manned, and made for the bushes. At night the Cap' +gave the people a pail of punch to recover them of their fright. Thunder +& lightning all this day. + +_Sunday, 5th._ At 5 A.M. shipped a hand. Our mate went ashore to get +water. About 8 he returned, and informed us that the two country sloops +lay at the Hook, and only waited for a pilot to bring them up, which +I hope will prove true. We are all tired of staying here. At 2 P.M. +weighed anchor and got nearer in shore, out of the current. Rainy, +squally, windy weather. Here lie a brig bound to Newfoundland, a ship to +Jamaica, and a sloop which at 6 P.M. weighed anchor, bound to Barbadoes, +loaded with lumber and horses. This day being a month since we left our +commission port, I have set down what quantity of provisions has been +expended, viz., 9-1/2 bb's of beef, 1 bb of pork, 14 bb of Bread. +Remaining, 49-1/2 bb's of beef, 29 bb's of pork, 40 cwt of bread. + +_Monday, 6th._ About 6 A.M. came in the two Country sloops so long +waited for. They were fitted out to take a Spanish privateer that +has been cruising on the coast, and has taken several of our English +vessels. A ship from Newfoundland also came up, and also the Humming +bird privateer, which had been to meet them to get hands. Cap't Langden, +Com'r of one of the above sloops, as he came alongside, gave us three +cheers, which we returned. The Cap't went up to York to get a Doctor and +some hands. One promised to give him an answer the next day. At 10 a +hand came on board to list, but went away without signing. + +_Tuesday, 6th._ This morning the Captain went up to York, and at last +agreed with a Doctor who had been in the employ of Capt Cunningham, +Com'r of one of the Privateer Sloops that came in the day before. His +name is William Blake. He is a young gentleman, and well recommended by +the Gen'l of York. At 6 P.M. the Captain returned on board, and brought +with him a chest of medicines, a Doctor's box which cost 90£ York +currency; also 10 pistols and cutlasses. + +_Tuesday, 14th._ Weighed about 2 P.M., from the Hook with the wind at +W.S.W, with a fresh gale, & by God's leave and under his protection, +bound on our cruise against the proud Dons, the Spaniards. The Captain +ordered the people a pail of punch to drink to a good voyage. Opened a +bb of beef & a tierce of bread. The people were put on allowance for the +time, one pound of beef per man & 7 pounds of bread, per week. + +_Wednesday, 15th._ At 3 P.M. set our shrouds up. There was a great, +swelling sea. About 5 A.M. saw a sail under our bow, about a league +distant. All hands were called upon deck, and got ready to receive her, +should she prove an enemy. We fired one of our bow chasers & brought her +to, and found that she was a sloop from Nantucket, Russell Master. He +said he had met nothing since he had been out, which was 4 days. Our +people returned to their _statu quo_, being all peaceable since they +have got a Quartermaster to control them. + +_Tuesday, 28th._ About 5 A.M. spied a sail under our lee bow, bore +down on her, and when in gunshot fired one of our bow chasers. She +immediately lowered all her sails, & went astern of us. We then ordered +the master to send his boat aboard, which he did, and came himself with +one hand. Upon examination, we found that she was a sloop belonging to +some of the subjects of his Brittanick majesty, & was taken by a +Spanish privateer. The sloop had been taken off of Obricock,[G] near N. +Carolina, and when taken by us was in Latitude 31° 59' N., Longitude 73° +6' W. The master, when he came aboard, brought three Spanish papers, +which he declared to be, the first, a copy of his commission; the +second, Instructions what signal to make when arrived at S't Augustine, +where she was to be condemned; and the third paper was to let him know +what route he was to steer. We sent our Lieu't aboard, who reported that +she was loaded with Pork, Beans, Live Hogs, &c., and a horse, & had on +board 2 Englishmen; the Master, who is a Frenchman born, but turned +Spaniard; 3 Spaniard slaves, & one negro. Upon examination, John +Evergin, one of the owners, declared that he had been taken some time in +April last by Don Pedro Estrado, Cap't of the privateer that had taken +this sloop, & that he forced him to list with them, and to pilot their +vessel on the coast of N. Carolina, and that then they took this sloop +at Obricock, on July 5'th; also 2 more sloops and a ship loaded with +lumber & bound to S'o Carolina; that the Cap't of the privateer put him +on board with the French master, and another Englishman, Saml Elderidge, +to navigate the vessel to Augustine, and that they were making the best +of their way to that place. We sent our Master on board to fetch all +the papers & bring the prisoners as above mentioned. At 11 A.M. sent +Jeremiah Harman & John Webb with four hands to take care of the prize, +the first to be master & the other mate. The Captain gave the master & +mate the following orders, viz.,-- + +[Footnote G: Perhaps a misspelling of Occacoke, an island on the coast +of North Carolina.] + +On Board the Revenge, + +_July 28th, 1741._ + +You, Jeremiah Harman, being appointed Master, & you, John Webb, mate, of +a sloop taken by a Spanish privateer some time ago, belonging to some of +the subjects of his Brittanick Majesty, and retaken by me by virtue of +a commission granted to me by the Hon'ble Ritchard Ward, Esq., Gov'r in +chief over Rhode Island & Providence plantations, &c., in New England, +I order, that you keep company with my sloop, the Revenge, as long as +weather will permit, & if by the Providence of God, by stormy weather, +or some unforeseen accident, we should part, I then order you to proceed +directly to the island of Providence, one of the Bahamia islands, and +there to wait my arrival, and not to embezzle, diminish, waste, sell, or +unload any part of her cargo till I am there present, under the penalty +of the articles already signed by you. Upon your arrival at Providence, +make a just report to his Hon'r the Gov'r of that place of the sloop & +cargo, & what is on board, & how we came by her. I am y'rs, + +B. NORTON. To Jeremiah Harman, Mas'r & John Webb, mate. + +For signal, hoist your Dutch jack at mast head; if we hoist first, you +answer us, & do not keep it up long. + +_Wednesday, 29th._ About 4 P.M. saw a sloop. Gave chase, but, the +weather being calm, was forced to get out our oars. Fired our bow chase +to bring her to; but as the people were in confusion, the ship tacking +about, and the night coming on very foggy, we were unable to speak to +her. By her course she was bound to the North'd. Lost sight of our +prize. The two Englishmen, who were taken prisoners by the Spanish +privateer, signed our articles to-day. + +_Saturday, Aug 1st._ The prize still alongside of us. Ordered the Master +to send us the negro prisoner, having been informed that he was Cap't of +a Comp'y of Indians, mulattoes, and negroes, that was at the retaking of +the Fort at St Augustine, which had formerly been taken while under the +command of that worthiest G--O--pe,[H] who by his treachery suffered +so many brave fellows to be mangled by those barbarians. The negro went +under the name of Signior Capitano Francisco. Sent one of the mulattoes +in his room on board the prize. Gave the people a pail of punch. + +[Footnote H: General Oglethorpe, who was at this time the victim of +unfavorable reports and calumnious stories, that had been spread by +disaffected members of the infant settlements in Georgia, and by some +of the officers who had served under him in his unsuccessful attempt +to reduce the town of Saint Augustine in Florida, "The fort at Saint +Augustine," to which the writer of this Journal refers, as having been +taken while under the command of Oglethorpe, was Fort Moosa, three miles +from Saint Augustine, where a detachment of one hundred and thirty-seven +men, under Colonel Palmer of Carolina, had been attacked by a vastly +superior force of Spaniards, negroes, and Indians, and had been cut +off almost to a man. This misfortune seems to have been due to Colonel +Palmer's disregard of Oglethorpe's orders, and Oglethorpe himself was +in no way responsible for it, although the popular blame fell on his +shoulders.] + +_Sunday, 2nd._ At 1 P.M. we examined the negro, who frankly owned that +he was Cap't of a Comp'y as aforesaid, & that his commission was on +board the privateer; that he was in the privateer in hopes of getting to +the Havanah, & that there he might get a passage to Old Spain to get the +reward of his brave actions. We then askt him if it was his comp'y that +had used the English so barbarously, when taken at the fort. He denied +that it was his compy, but laid that cruel action to the Florida +Indians, and nothing more could we get out of him. We then tied him to a +gun & made the Doctor come with instruments, seemingly to treat him as +they had served the English [prisoners], thinking by that means to get +some confession out of him; but he still denied it. We then tried a +mulatto, one that was taken with him, to find out if he knew anything +about the matter. We gave him a dozen of stripes, but he declared that +he knew nothing more than that he [the negro] had been Cap't of a Comp'y +all that time. The other fellow on board the sloop, he said, knew all +about it. We sent to him, & he declared the whole truth, that it was +the Florida Indians who had committed the acts under his [the negro's] +command, but did not know if he was consenting to it. However, to make +sure, & to make him remember that he bore such a commission, we gave him +200 lashes, & having pickled him, left him to the care of the Doctor. +Opened a tierce of bread and killed the 2 hogs. + +_Monday, 3d._ Small breeze of wind. About 10 saw a schooner standing to +N'ward. Gave her chase. + +_Tuesday, 4th._ A fine breeze of wind. Still in chase of the schooner. +At 5 P.M. gave her a gun, in hopes to bring her to and find out what she +was; but she did not mind it, neither hoisted any colors. Then she bore +down on us, tacked and bore away. We fired 10 shot, but all did not +signify, for she hugged her wind, & it growing dark, and having a good +pair of heels, she was soon lost sight of. We imagined she was an +eastward schooner both by her build & course; but let her be what she +will, she had a brave fellow for a Comr. + +_Wednesday, 5th._ Fine breeze of wind. The man at the mast head about 2 +P.M. spied 5 sail of vessels steering to the westward. Gave them chase +till 1 A.M. About 2 we could see them at a great distance to leeward +of us. Lay to till 4, and then began the chase again, they having got +almost out of sight. + +_Thursday, 6th._ Still in chase of the 5 vessels. Set our spritsail, +topsail & squaresail, with a fair breeze of wind. One of the ships +brought to and fired a gun to wait for a sloop that was in Comp' with +her, & to wait for us. We took in all our small sails, bore down on her, +& hoisted our pennant. When alongside of her she fired 6 shot at us, but +did us no damage. We still hedged upon her, and, having given her our +broadside, stood off. The sloop tacked immediately and bore down on us, +in hopes to get us between them to pepper us, as we supposed. At sight +of this, we gave them three cheers. Our people were all agreed to fight +them, & told the Captain, if he would venture his sloop, they would +venture their lives; but he seemed unwilling, and gave for reason, that +the prize would be of little profit, if taken, and perhaps would +not make good a limb, if it was lost. He also said we had not hands +sufficient to man them, and to bring them into Providence, & to carry +them to the N'ward would be the breaking up of the voyage without +profit. Nevertheless we let the sloop come alongside us, & received her +shot. In return we gave her a broadside & a volley of small arms with +three huzzas, and then bore down on the ship, which all this time had +been pelting us with her shot, but to no purpose. As we passed, we gave +her a broadside which did some damage, for she bore down to the sloop, +and never fired another shot, but careened her over and let some men +down the side to stop her holes, & sent some to repair the rigging and +sails, which were full of shot holes. All the damage we got was one shot +through our main-sail. The ship mounted 6 guns of a side, and the sloop +eight. She was a Spanish privateer, bound on a cruize to the N'ward, & +had taken 5 ships & the sloop which we had retaken some time before. It +grieved us to think that the fellow should go off with those prizes, +which he would not have done, had the Captain been as willing to fight +as we. This battle took place in the Latitude 29° 26', Long. 74° 30' W. +But no blood was shed on our side. + + + + +THE ADVANTAGES OF DEFEAT. + + +When the news flashed over the country, on Monday, the 22d of July, that +our army, whose advance into Virginia had been so long expected, and had +been watched with such intense interest and satisfaction,--that our army +had been defeated, and was flying back in disorder to the intrenchments +around Washington, it was but natural that the strong revulsion of +feeling and the bitter disappointment should have been accompanied by a +sense of dismay, and by alarm as to what was to follow. The panic which +had disgraced some of our troops at the close of the fight found its +parallel in the panic in our own hearts. But as the smoke of the battle +and the dust of the retreat, which overshadowed the land in a cloud of +lies and exaggerations, by degrees cleared away, men regained the even +balance of their minds, and felt a not unworthy shame at their transient +fears. + +It is now plain that our defeat at Bull Run was in no true sense a +disaster; that we not only deserved it, but needed it; that its ultimate +consequences are better than those of a victory would have been. Far +from being disheartened by it, it should give us new confidence in our +cause, in our strength, in our final success. There are lessons which +every great nation must learn which are cheap at any cost, and for some +of those lessons the defeat of the 21st of July was a very small price +to pay. The essential question now is, Whether this schooling has been +sufficient and effectual, or whether we require still further hard +discipline to enforce its instructions upon us. + +In this moment of pause and compelled reflection, it is for us to +examine closely the spirit and motives with which we have engaged in +war, and to determine the true end for which the war must be carried on. +It is no time for indulging in fallacies of the fancy or in feebleness +of counsel. The temper of the Northern people, since the war was forced +upon them, has been in large measure noble and magnanimous. The sudden +interruption of peace, the prospect of a decline of long continued +prosperity, were at once and manfully faced. An eager and emulous zeal +in the defence of the imperilled liberties and institutions of the +nation showed itself all over the land, and in every condition of life. +None who lived through the months of April and May can ever forget the +heroic and ideal sublimity of the time. But as the weeks went on, as +the immediate alarm that had roused the invincible might of the people +passed away, something of the spirit of over-confidence, of excited +hope, of satisfied vanity mingled with and corrupted the earlier and +purer emotion. The war was to be a short one. Our enemies would speedily +yield before the overwhelming force arrayed against them; they would run +from Northern troops; we were sure of easy victory. There was little +sober foreboding, as our army set out from Washington on its great +advance. The troops moved forward with exultation, as if going on a +holiday and festive campaign; and the nation that watched them shared +in their careless confidence, and prophesied a speedy triumph. But the +event showed how far such a spirit was from that befitting a civil +war like this. Never were men engaged in a cause which demanded more +seriousness of purpose, more modesty and humility of pretension. + +The duty before us is honorable in proportion to its difficulty. God has +given us work to do not only for ourselves, but for coming generations +of men. He has imposed on us a task which, if well performed, will +require our most strenuous endeavors and our most patient and +unremitting exertions. We are fairly engaged in a war which cannot be +a short one, even though our enemies should before long lay down their +arms; for it is a war not merely to support and defend the Constitution +and to retake the property of the United States, not merely to settle +the question of the right of a majority to control an insolent and +rebellious minority in the republic, nor to establish the fact of the +national existence and historic unity of the United States; but it is +also and more essentially a war for the establishment of civilization in +that immense portion of our country in which for many years barbarism +has been gaining power. It is for the establishment of liberty and +justice, of freedom of conscience and liberty of thought, of equal law +and of personal rights, throughout the South. If these are not to be +secured without the abolition of slavery, it is a war for the abolition +of slavery. We are not making war to reëstablish an old order of things, +but to set up a new one. We are not giving ourselves and our fortunes +for the purpose of fighting a few battles, and then making peace, +restoring the Southern States to their old place in the Union,--but for +the sake of destroying the root from which this war has sprung, and of +making another such war impossible. It is not worth while to do only +half or a quarter of our work. But if we do it thoroughly, as we ought, +the war must be a long one, and will require from us long sacrifices. It +is well to face up to the fact at once, that this generation is to be +compelled to frugality, and that luxurious expenses upon trifles and +superfluities must be changed for the large and liberal costliness of a +noble cause. We are not to expect or hope for a speedy return of what is +called prosperity; but we are greatly and abundantly prosperous, if we +succeed in extending and establishing the principles which alone can +give dignity and value to national or individual life, and without +which, material abundance, success in trade, and increase of wealth are +evidences rather of the decline than of the progress of a state. We, who +have so long been eager in the pursuit and accumulation of riches, are +now to show more generous energies in the free spending of our means +to gain the invaluable objects for which we have gone to war. There is +nothing disheartening in this prospect. Our people, accustomed as they +have been during late years to the most lavish use of money, and to +general extravagance in expense, have not yet lost the tradition of the +economies and thrift of earlier times, and will not find it difficult +to put them once more into practice. The burden will not fall upon any +class; and when each man, whatever be his station in life, is called +upon to lower his scale of living, no one person will find it too hard +to do what all others are doing. + +But if such be the objects and the prospects of the war, it is plain +that they require more sober thought and more careful forecasting and +more thorough preparation than have thus far been given to them. If we +be the generation chosen to accomplish the work that lies ready to +our hands, if we be commissioned to so glorious and so weighty an +enterprise, there is but one spirit befitting our task. The war, if it +is to be successful, must be a religious war: not in the old sense of +that phrase, not a war of violent excitement and passionate enthusiasm, +not a war in which the crimes of cruel bigots are laid to the charge of +divine impulse, bur a war by itself, waged with dignified and solemn +strength, with clean hands and pure hearts,--a war calm and inevitable +in its processes as the judgments of God. When Cromwell's men went out +to win the victory at Winceby Fight, their watchword was "_Religion_." +Can we in our great struggle for liberty and right adopt any other +watchword than this? Do we require another defeat and more suffering to +bring us to a sense of our responsibility to God for the conduct and the +issue of this war? + +It is only by taking the highest ground, by raising ourselves to the +full conception of what is involved in this contest, that we shall +secure success, and prevent ourselves from sinking to the level of those +who are fighting against us. The demoralization necessarily attendant +upon all wars is to be met and overcome only by simple and manly +religious conviction and effort. It will be one of the advantages +of defeat to have made it evident that a regiment of bullies and +prize-fighters is not the best stuff to compose an army. "Your men are +not vindictive enough," Mr. Russell is reported to have said, as he +watched the battle. It was the saying of a shrewd observer, but it +expresses only an imperfect apprehension of the truth. Vindictiveness is +not the spirit our men should have, but a resoluteness of determination, +as much more to be relied upon than a vindictive passion as it is +founded upon more stable and more enduring qualities of character. +The worst characters of our great cities may be the fit equals of +Mississippi or Arkansas ruffians, but the mass of our army is not to be +brought down to the standard of rowdies or the level of barbarians. The +men of New England and of the West do not march under banners with +the device of "Booty and Beauty," though General Beauregard has the +effrontery to declare it, and Bishop, now General, Polk the ignorance +to utter similar slanders. The atrocities committed on our wounded and +prisoners by the "chivalry" of the South may excite not only horror, but +a wild fury of revenge. But our cause should not be stained with cruelty +and crime, even in the name of vengeance. If the war is simply one in +which brute force is to prevail, if we are fighting only for lust and +pride and domination, then let us have our "Ellsworth Avengers," and +let us slay the wounded of our enemy without mercy; let us burn their +hospitals, let us justify their, as yet, false charges against us; let +us admit the truth of the words of the Bishop of Louisiana, that the +North is prosecuting this war "with circumstances of barbarity which it +was fondly believed would never more disgrace the annals of a civilized +people." But if we, if our brothers in the army, are to lose the proud +distinctions of the North, and to be brought down to the level of +the tender mercies and the humane counsels of slaveholders and +slave-drivers, there would be little use in fighting. If our +institutions at the North do not produce better, more humane, and more +courageous men than those of the South, when taken in the mass, there is +no reason for the sacrifice of blood and treasure in their support. War +must be always cruel; it is not to be waged on principles of tenderness; +but a just, a religious war can be waged only mercifully, with no +excess, with no circumstance of avoidable suffering. Our enemies are our +outward consciences, and their reproaches may warn us of our dangers. + +The soldiers of the Northern army generally are men capable of +understanding the force of moral considerations. They are intelligent, +independent, vigorous,--as good material as an army ever was formed +from. A large proportion of them have gone to the war from the best +motives, and with clear appreciation of the nature and grounds of the +contest. But they require to be confirmed in their principles, and to +be strengthened against the temptations of life in the camp and in the +field, by the voice and support of the communities from which they +have come. If the country is careless or indifferent as to their moral +standard, they will inevitably become so themselves, and lose the +perception of the objects for which they are fighting, forgetting their +responsibilities, not only as soldiers, but as good men. It is one of +the advantages of defeat to force the thoughts which camp-life may have +rendered unfamiliar back into the soldier's mind. The boastfulness of +the advance is gone,--and there is chance for sober reflection. + +It is especially necessary for our men, unaccustomed to the profession +of arms, and entering at once untried upon this great war, to take a +just and high view of their new calling: to look at it with the eyes, +not of mercenaries, but of men called into their country's service; to +regard it as a life which is not less, but more difficult than any other +to be discharged with honor. "Our profession," said Washington, "is the +chastest of all; even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of our +finest achievements." Our soldiers in Virginia, and in the other Slave +States, have not only their own reputation to support, but also that +of the communities from which they come. There must be a rivalry in +generous efforts among the troops of different States. Shall we not now +have our regiments which by their brave and honorable conduct shall win +appellations not less noble than that of the _Auvergne sans tache_, +"Auvergne without a stain"? If the praise that Mr. Lincoln bestowed upon +our men in his late Message to Congress be not undeserved, they are +bound to show qualities such as no other common soldiers have ever +been called to exhibit. There are among them more men of character, +intelligence, and principle than were ever seen before in the ranks. +There should be a higher tone in our service than in that of any other +people; and it would be a reproach to our institutions, if our soldiers +did not show themselves not only steady and brave in action, +undaunted in spirit, unwearied in energy, but patient of discipline, +self-controlled, and forbearing. The disgrace to our arms of the defeat +at Bull Run was not so great as that of the riotous drunkenness and +disorderly conduct of our men during the two or three days that +succeeded at Washington. If our men are to be the worthy soldiers of so +magnificent a cause as that in which they are engaged, they must raise +themselves to its height. Battles may be won by mere human machines, by +men serving for eleven dollars a month; but a victory such as we have to +gain can be won only by men who know for what and why they are +fighting, and who are conscious of the dignity given to them and the +responsibility imposed upon them by the sacredness of their cause. The +old flag, the stars and stripes, must not only be the symbol in their +eyes of past glories and of the country's honor, but its stars must +shine before them with the light of liberty, and its stripes must be the +emblem of the even and enduring lines of equal justice. + +The retreat from Bull Run and the panic that accompanied it were not +due to cowardice among our men. During long hours our troops had fought +well, and showed their gallantry under the most trying circumstances. +They were not afraid to die. It was not strange that raw volunteers, as +many of them were, inefficiently supported, and poorly led, should at +length give way before superior force, and yield to the weakness induced +by exhaustion and hunger. But the lesson of defeat would be imperfectly +learned, did not the army and the nation alike gain from it a juster +sense than they before possessed of the value of individual life. +Never has life been so much prized and so precious as it has become in +America. Never before has each individual been of so much worth. It +costs more to bring up a man here, and he is worth more when brought up, +than elsewhere. The long peace and the extraordinary amount of comfort +which the nation has enjoyed have made us (speaking broadly) fond of +life and tender of it. We of the North have looked with astonishment at +the recklessness of the South concerning it. We have thought it braver +to save than to spend it; and a questionable humanity has undoubtedly +led us sometimes into feeble sentimentalities, and false estimates of +its value. We have been in danger of thinking too much of it, and of +being mean-spirited in its use. But the first sacrifice for which war +calls is life; and we must revise our estimates of its value, if we +would conduct our war to a happy end. To gain that end, no sacrifice can +be too precious or too costly. The shudder with which we heard the first +report that three thousand of our men were slain was but the sign of the +blow that our hearts received. But there must be no shrinking from the +prospect of the death of our soldiers. Better than that we should fail +that a million men should die on the battle-field. It is not often that +men can have the privilege to offer their lives for a principle; and +when the opportunity comes, it is only the coward that does not welcome +it with gladness. Life is of no value in comparison with the spiritual +principles from which it gains its worth. No matter how many lives it +costs to defend or secure truth or justice or liberty, truth and justice +and liberty must be defended and secured. Self-preservation must yield +to Truth's preservation. The little human life is for to-day,--the +principle is eternal. To die for truth, to die open-eyed and resolutely +for the "good old cause," is not only honor, but reward. "Suffering is +a gift not given to every one," said one of the Scotch martyrs in 1684, +"and I desire to bless the Lord with my whole heart and soul that He has +counted such a poor thing as I am worthy of the gift of suffering." + +The little value of the individual in comparison with the principles +upon which the progress and happiness of the race depend is a lesson +enforced by the analogies of Nature, as well as by the evidence of +history and the assurance of faith. Nature is careless of the single +life. Her processes seem wasteful, but out of seeming waste she produces +her great and durable results. Everywhere in her works are the signs of +life cut short for the sake of some effect more permanent than itself. +And for the establishing of those immortal foundations upon which the +human race is to stand firm in virtue and in hope, for the building of +the walls of truth, there will be no scanty expenditure of individual +life. Men are nothing in the count,--man is everything. + +The spirit of the nation will be shown in its readiness to meet without +shrinking such sacrifice of life as may be demanded in gaining our end. +We must all suffer and rejoice together,--but let there be no unmanly or +unwomanly fear of bloodshed. The deaths of our men from sickness, from +camp epidemics, are what we should fear and prevent; death on the +battle-field we have no right to dread. The men who die in this cause +die well; they could wish for no more honorable end of life. + +The honor lost in our recent defeat cannot be regained,--but it is +indeed one of the advantages of defeat to teach men the preciousness of +honor, the necessity of winning and keeping it at any cost. Honor and +duty are but two names for the same thing in war. But the novelty of war +is so great to us, we are so unpractised in it, and we have thought so +little of it heretofore as concerning ourselves, that there is danger +lest we fail at first to appreciate its finer elements, and neglect the +opportunities it affords for the practice of virtues rarely called out +in civil life. The common boast of the South, that there alone was to be +found the chivalry of America, and that among the Southern people was +a higher strain of courage and a keener sense of honor than among the +people of the North, is now to be brought to the test. There is not +need to repeat the commonplaces about bravery and honor. But we and our +soldiers should remember that it is not the mere performance of set work +that is required of them, but the valiant and generous alacrity of noble +minds in deeds of daring and of courtesy. Though the science of war +has in modern times changed the relations and the duties of men on the +battle-field from what they were in the old days of knighthood, yet +there is still room for the display of stainless valor and of manful +virtue. Honor and courage are part of our religion; and the coward or +the man careless of honor in our army of liberty should fall under +heavier shame than ever rested on the disgraced soldier in former times. +The sense of honor is finer than the common sense of the world. It +counts no cost and reckons no sacrifice great. "Then the king wept, and +dried his eyes, and said, 'Your courage had neere hand destroyed you, +for I call it folly knights to abide when they be overmatched.' +'Nay,' said Sir Lancelot and the other, 'for once shamed may never be +recovered.'" The examples of Bayard,--_sans peur et sans reproche_,--of +Sidney, of the heroes of old or recent days, are for our imitation. We +are bound to be no less worthy of praise and remembrance than they. They +did nothing too high for us to imitate. And in their glorious company +we may hope that some of our names may yet be enrolled, to stand as +the inspiring exemplars and the models for coming times. If defeat has +brought us shame, it has brought us also firmer resolve. No man can be +said to know himself, or to have assurance of his force of principle and +character, till he has been tested by the fires of trial in the crucible +of defeat. The same is true of a nation. The test of defeat is the test +of its national worth. Defeat shows whether it deserves success. We may +well be grateful and glad for our defeat of the 21st of July, if we +wrest from it the secrets of our weakness, and are thrown back by it to +the true sources of strength. If it has done its work thoroughly, if we +profit sufficiently by the advantages it has afforded us, we may be well +content that so slight a harm has brought us so great a good. But if +not, then let us be ready for another and another defeat, till our souls +shall be tempered and our forces disciplined for the worthy attainment +of victory. For victory we shall in good time have. There is no need to +fear or be doubtful of the issue. As soon as we deserve it, victory will +be ours; and were we to win it before, it would be but an empty +and barren triumph. All history is but the prophecy of our final +success,--and Milton has put the prophecy into words: "Go on, O Nation, +never to be disunited! Be the praise and the heroic song of all +posterity! Merit this, but seek only virtue, not to extend your limits, +(for what needs to win a fading triumphant laurel out of the tears of +wretched men?) but to settle the pure worship of God in his church, and +justice in the state. Then shall the hardest difficulties smooth out +themselves before thee; envy shall sink to hell, craft and malice be +confounded, whether it be home-bred mischief or outlandish cunning; yea, +other nations will then covet to serve thee, for lordship and victory +are but the pages of justice and virtue. Use thine invincible might to +do worthy and godlike deeds, and then he that seeks to break your union +a cleaving curse be his inheritance to all generations!" + + * * * * * + + +ODE TO HAPPINESS. + + + I. + + + Spirit, that rarely comest now, + And only to contrast my gloom, + Like rainbow-feathered birds that bloom + A moment on some autumn bough + Which, with the spurn of their farewell, + Sheds its last leaves,--thou once didst dwell + With me year-long, and make intense + To boyhood's wisely-vacant days + That fleet, but all-sufficing grace + Of trustful inexperience, + While yet the soul transfigured sense, + And thrilled, as with love's first caress, + At life's mere unexpectedness. + + + II. + + + Those were thy days, blithe spirit, those + When a June sunshine could fill up + The chalice of a buttercup + With such Falernian juice as flows + No longer,--for the vine is dead + Whence that inspiring drop was shed: + Days when my blood would leap and run, + As full of morning as a breeze, + Or spray tossed up by summer seas + That doubts if it be sea or sun; + Days that flew swiftly, like the band + That in the Grecian games had strife + And passed from eager hand to hand + The onward-dancing torch of life. + + + III. + + + Wing-footed! thou abid'st with him + Who asks it not; but he who hath + Watched o'er the waves thy fading path + Shall nevermore on ocean's rim, + At morn or eve, behold returning + Thy high-heaped canvas shoreward yearning! + Thou first reveal'st to us thy face + Turned o'er the shoulder's parting grace, + A moment glimpsed, then seen no more,-- + Thou whose swift footsteps we can trace + Away from every mortal door! + + + IV. + + + Nymph of the unreturning feet, + How may I woo thee back? But no, + I do thee wrong to call thee so; + 'Tis we are changed, not thou art fleet: + The man thy presence feels again + Not in the blood, but in the brain, + Spirit, that lov'st the upper air, + Serene and vaporless and rare, + Such as on mountain-heights we find + And wide-viewed uplands of the mind, + Or such as scorns to coil and sing + Round any but the eagle's wing + Of souls that with long upward beat + Have won an undisturbed retreat, + Where, poised like wingèd victories, + They mirror in unflinching eyes + The life broad-basking 'neath their feet,-- + Man always with his Now at strife, + Pained with first gasps of earthly air, + Then begging Death the last to spare, + Still fearful of the ampler life. + + + V. + + + Not unto them dost thou consent + Who, passionless, can lead at ease + A life of unalloyed content, + A life like that of landlocked seas, + That feel no elemental gush + Of tidal forces, no fierce rush + Of storm deep-grasping, scarcely spent + 'Twixt continent and continent: + Such quiet souls have never known + Thy truer inspiration, thou + Who lov'st to feel upon thy brow + Spray from the plunging vessel thrown, + Grazing the tusked lee shore, the cliff + That o'er the abrupt gorge holds its breath, + Where the frail hair's-breadth of an If + Is all that sunders life and death: + These, too, are cared for, and round these + Bends her mild crook thy sister Peace; + These in unvexed dependence lie + Each 'neath his space of household sky; + O'er them clouds wander, or the blue + Hangs motionless the whole day through; + Stars rise for them, and moons grow large + And lessen in such tranquil wise + As joys and sorrows do that rise + Within their nature's sheltered marge; + Their hours into each other flit, + Like the leaf-shadows of the vine + And fig-tree under which they sit; + And their still lives to heaven incline + With an unconscious habitude, + Unhistoried as smokes that rise + From happy hearths and sight elude + In kindred blue of morning skies. + + + VI. + + + Wayward! when once we feel thy lack, + 'Tis worse than vain to tempt thee back! + Yet there is one who seems to be + Thine elder sister, in whose eyes + A faint, far northern light will rise + Sometimes and bring a dream of thee: + She is not that for which youth hoped; + But she hath blessings all her own, + Thoughts pure as lilies newly oped, + And faith to sorrow given alone: + Almost I deem that it is thou + Come back with graver matron brow, + With deepened eyes and bated breath, + Like one who somewhere had met Death. + "But no," she answers, "I am she + Whom the gods love, Tranquillity; + That other whom you seek forlorn. + Half-earthly was; but I am born + Of the immortals, and our race + Have still some sadness in our face: + He wins me late, but keeps me long, + Who, dowered with every gift of passion, + In that fierce flame can forge and fashion + Of sin and self the anchor strong; + Can thence compel the driving force + Of daily life's mechanic course, + Nor less the nobler energies + Of needful toil and culture wise: + Whose soul is worth the tempter's lure, + Who can renounce and yet endure, + To him I come, not lightly wooed, + And won by silent fortitude." + + * * * * * + + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + +_Florence_, July 5th, 1861. + + "When some belovèd voice that was to you + Both sound and sweetness faileth suddenly, + And silence, against which you dare not cry, + Aches round you like a strong disease and new,-- + What hope? what help? what music will undo + That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh,-- + Not reason's subtle count,--not melody + Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew,-- + Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales, + Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress-trees + To the clear moon,--nor yet the spheric laws + Self-chanted,--nor the angels' sweet All-hails, + Met in the smile of God. Nay, none of these! + Speak THOU, availing Christ, and fill this pause!" + +Thus sang the Muse of a great woman years ago; and now, alas! she, who, +with constant suffering of her own, was called upon to grieve often for +the loss of near and dear ones, has suddenly gone from among us, "and +silence, against which we dare not cry, aches round us like a strong +disease and new." Her own beautiful words are our words, the world's +words,--and though the tears fall faster and thicker, as we search +for all that is left of her in the noble poems which she bequeaths to +humanity, there follows the sad consolation in feeling assured that she +above all others _felt_ the full value of life, the full value of death, +and was prepared to meet her God humbly, yet joyfully, whenever He +should claim her for His own. Her life was one long, large-souled, +large-hearted prayer for the triumph of Right, Justice, Liberty; and she +who lived for others was + + "poet true, + Who died for Beauty, as martyrs do + For Truth,--the ends being scarcely two." + +Beauty _was_ truth with her, the wife, mother, and poet, three in one, +and such an earthly trinity as God had never before blessed the world +with. + +This day week, at half-past four o'clock in the morning, Mrs. Browning +died. A great invalid from girlhood, owing to an unfortunate accident, +Mrs. Browning's life was a prolonged combat with disease thereby +engendered; and had not God given her extraordinary vitality of spirit, +the frail body could never have borne up against the suffering to which +it was doomed. Probably there never was a greater instance of the power +of genius over the weakness of the flesh. Confined to her room in +the country or city home of her father in England, Elizabeth Barrett +developed into the great artist and scholar. + +From her couch went forth those poems which have crowned her as "the +world's greatest poetess"; and on that couch, where she lay almost +speechless at times, and seeing none but those friends dearest and +nearest, the soul-woman struck deep into the roots of Latin and Greek, +and drank of their vital juices. We hold in kindly affection her +learned and blind teacher, Hugh Stuart Boyd, who, she tells us, was +"enthusiastic for the good and the beautiful, and one of the most simple +and upright of human beings." The love of his grateful scholar, when +called upon to mourn the good man's death, embalms his memory among her +Sonnets, where she addresses him as her + + "Beloved friend, who, living many years + With sightless eyes raised vainly to the sun, + Didst learn to keep thy patient soul in tune + To visible Nature's elemental cheers!" + +Nor did this "steadfast friend" forget his poet-pupil ere he went to +"join the dead":-- + + "Three gifts the Dying left me,--Aeschylus, + And Gregory Nazianzen, and a clock + Chiming the gradual hours out like a flock + Of stars, whose motion is melodious." + +We catch a glimpse of those communings over "our Sophocles the royal," +"our Aeschylus the thunderous," "our Euripides the human," and "my Plato +the divine one," in her pretty poem of "Wine of Cyprus," addressed to +Mr. Boyd. The woman translates the remembrance of those early lessons +into her heart's verse:-- + + "And I think of those long mornings + Which my thought goes far to seek, + When, betwixt the folio's turnings, + Solemn flowed the rhythmic Greek. + Past the pane, the mountain spreading, + Swept the sheep-bell's tinkling noise, + While a girlish voice was reading,-- + Somewhat low for [Greek: ais] and [Greek: ois]." + +These "golden hours" were not without that earnest argument so welcome +to candid minds:-- + + "For we sometimes gently wrangled, + Very gently, be it said,-- + Since our thoughts were disentangled + By no breaking of the thread! + And I charged you with extortions + On the nobler fames of old,-- + Ay, and sometimes thought your Persons + Stained the purple they would fold." + +What high honor the scholar did her friend and teacher, and how nobly +she could interpret the "rhythmic Greek," let those decide who have read +Mrs. Browning's translations of "Prometheus Bound" and Bion's "Lament +for Adonis." + +Imprisoned within the four walls of her room, with books for her world +and large humanity for her thought, the lamp of life burning so low at +times that a feather would be placed on her lips to prove that there was +still breath, Elizabeth Barrett read and wrote, and "heard the nations +praising" her "far off." She loved + + "Art for art, + And good for God himself, the essential Good," + +until destiny (a destiny with God in it) brought two poets face to face +and heart to heart. Mind had met mind and recognized its peer previously +to that personal interview which made them one in soul; but it was not +until after an acquaintance of two years that Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning were united in marriage for time and for eternity, a +marriage the like of which can seldom be recorded. What wealth of love +she could give is evidenced in those exquisite sonnets purporting to be +from the Portuguese, the author being too modest to christen them by +their right name, Sonnets from the Heart. None have failed to read the +truth through this slight veil, and to see the woman more than the poet +in such lines as these:-- + + "I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange + My near sweet view of heaven for earth with thee!" + +We have only to turn to the concluding poem in "Men and Women," +inscribed to E.B.B., to see how reciprocal was this great love. + +From their wedding-day Mrs. Browning seemed to be endowed with new life. +Her health visibly improved, and she was enabled to make excursions in +England prior to her departure for the land of her adoption, Italy, +where she found a second and a dearer home. For nearly fifteen years +Florence and the Brownings have been one in the thoughts of many English +and Americans; and Casa Guidi, which has been immortalized by Mrs. +Browning's genius, will be as dear to the Anglo-Saxon traveller as +Milton's Florentine residence has been heretofore. Those who now pass by +Casa Guidi fancy an additional gloom has settled upon the dark face of +the old palace, and grieve to think that those windows from which +a spirit-face witnessed two Italian revolutions, and those large +mysterious rooms where a spirit-hand translated the great Italian Cause +into burning verse, and pleaded the rights of humanity in "Aurora +Leigh," are hereafter to be the passing homes of the thoughtless or the +unsympathizing. + +Those who have known Casa Guidi as it was could hardly enter the loved +rooms now and speak above a whisper. They who have been so favored +can never forget the square anteroom, with its great picture and +piano-forte, at which the boy Browning passed many an hour,--the +little dining-room covered with tapestry, and where hung medallions +of Tennyson, Carlyle, and Robert Browning,--the long room filled with +plaster casts and studies, which was Mr. Browning's retreat,--and, +dearest of all, the large drawing-room, where she always sat. It opens +upon a balcony filled with plants, and looks out upon the old iron-gray +church of Santa Felice. There was something about this room that seemed +to make it a proper and especial haunt for poets. The dark shadows +and subdued light gave it a dreamy look, which was enhanced by the +tapestry-covered walls and the old pictures of saints that looked +out sadly from their carved frames of black wood. Large book-cases, +constructed of specimens of Florentine carving selected by Mr. Browning, +were brimming over with wise-looking books. Tables were covered with +more gayly bound volumes, the gifts of brother authors. Dante's +grave profile, a cast of Keats's face and brow taken after death, a +pen-and-ink sketch of Tennyson, the genial face of John Kenyon, Mrs. +Browning's good friend and relative, little paintings of the boy +Browning, all attracted the eye in turn, and gave rise to a thousand +musings. A quaint mirror, easy-chairs and sofas, and a hundred nothings +that always add an indescribable charm, were all massed in this room. +But the glory of all, and that which sanctified all, was seated in a low +arm-chair near the door. A small table, strewn with writing-materials, +books, and newspapers, was always by her side. + +To those who loved Mrs. Browning (and to know her was to love her) she +was singularly attractive. Hers was not the beauty of feature; it was +the loftier beauty of expression. Her slight figure seemed hardly large +enough to contain the great heart that beat so fervently within, and the +soul that expanded more and more as one year gave place to another. It +was difficult to believe that such a fairy hand could pen thoughts of +such ponderous weight, or that such a "still small voice" could utter +them with equal force. But it was Mrs. Browning's face upon which one +loved to gaze,--that face and head which almost lost themselves in the +thick curls of her dark brown hair. That jealous hair could not hide the +broad, fair forehead, "royal with the truth," as smooth as any girl's, +and + + "Too large for wreath of modern wont." + +Her large brown eyes were beautiful, and were in truth the windows +of her soul. They combined the confidingness of a child with the +poet-passion of heart and of intellect; and in gazing into them it was +easy to read _why_ Mrs. Browning wrote. God's inspiration was her motive +power, and in her eyes was the reflection of this higher light. + + "And her smile it seemed half holy, + As if drawn from thoughts more far + Than our common jestings are." + +Mrs. Browning's character was wellnigh perfect. Patient in long +suffering, she never spoke of herself, except when the subject was +forced upon her by others, and then with no complaint. She _judged not_, +saving when great principles were imperilled, and then was ready to +sacrifice herself upon the altar of Right. Forgiving as she wished to be +forgiven, none approached her with misgivings, knowing her magnanimity. +She was ever ready to accord sympathy to all, taking an earnest interest +in the most insignificant, and so humble in her greatness that her +friends looked upon her as a divinity among women. Thoughtful in the +smallest things for others, she seemed to give little thought to +herself; and believing in universal goodness, her nature was free from +worldly suspicions. The first to see merit, she was the last to censure +faults, and gave the praise that she _felt_ with a generous hand. No one +so heartily rejoiced at the success of others, no one was so modest in +her own triumphs, which she looked upon more as a favor of which she +was unworthy than as a right due to her. She loved all who offered +her affection, and would solace and advise with any. She watched the +progress of the world with tireless eye and beating heart, and, anxious +for the good of the _whole_ world, scorned to take an insular view +of any political question. With her a political question was a moral +question as well. Mrs. Browning belonged to no particular country; the +world was inscribed upon the banner under which she fought. Wrong was +her enemy; against this she wrestled, in whatever part of the globe it +was to be found. + +A noble devotion to and faith in the regeneration of Italy was a +prominent feature in Mrs. Browning's life. To her, Italy was from the +first a living fire, not the bed of dead ashes at which the world was +wont to sneer. Her trust in God and the People was supreme; and when +the Revolution of 1848 kindled the passion of liberty from the Alps to +Sicily, she, in common with many another earnest spirit, believed +that the hour for the fulfilment of her hopes had arrived. Her joyful +enthusiasm at the Tuscan uprising found vent in the "Eureka" which she +sang with so much fervor in Part First of "Casa Guidi Windows." + + "But never say 'No more' + To Italy's life! Her memories undismayed + Still argue 'Evermore'; her graves implore + Her future to be strong and not afraid; + Her very statues send their looks before." + +And even she was ready to believe that a Pope _might_ be a reformer. + + "Feet, knees, and sinews, energies divine, + Were never yet too much for men who ran + In such hard ways as must be this of thine, + Deliverer whom we seek, whoe'er thou art, + Pope, prince, or peasant! If, indeed, the first, + The noblest therefore! since the heroic heart + Within thee must be great enough to burst + Those trammels buckling to the baser part + Thy saintly peers in Rome, who crossed and cursed + With the same finger." + +The Second Part of "Casa Guidi Windows" is a sad sequel to the First, +but Mrs. Browning does not deride. She bows before the inevitable, but +is firm in her belief of a future living Italy. + + "In the name of Italy + Meantime her patriot dead have benison; + They only have done well;--and what they did + Being perfect, it shall triumph. Let them slumber!" + +Her short-lived credence in the good faith of Popes was buried with much +bitterness of heart:-- + + "And peradventure other eyes may see, + From Casa Guidi windows, what is done + Or undone. Whatsoever deeds they be, + Pope Pius will be glorified in none." + +It is a matter of great thankfulness that God permitted Mrs. Browning to +witness the second Italian revolution before claiming her for heaven. No +patriot Italian, of whatever high degree, gave greater sympathy to the +aspirations of 1859 than Mrs. Browning, an echo of which the world has +read in her "Poems before Congress" and still later contributions to the +New York "Independent." Great was the moral courage of this frail woman +to publish the "Poems before Congress" at a time when England was most +suspicious of Napoleon. Greater were her convictions, when she abased +England and exalted France for the cold neutrality of the one and the +generous aid of the other in this war of Italian independence. Bravely +did she bear up against the angry criticism excited by such anti-English +sentiment. Strong in her right, Mrs. Browning was willing to brave the +storm, confident that truth would prevail in the end. Apart from certain +_tours de force_ in rhythm, there is much that is grand and as much that +is beautiful in these Poems, while there is the stamp of _power_ upon +every page. It is felt that a great soul is in earnest about vital +principles, and earnestness of itself is a giant as rare as forcible. +Though there are few now who look upon Napoleon as + + "Larger so much by the heart" + +than others "who have governed and led," there are many who acknowledge +him to be + + "Larger so much by the head," + +and regard him as she did,--Italy's best friend in the hour of need. Her +disciples are increasing, and soon "Napoleon III. in Italy" will be read +with the admiration which it deserves. + +Beautiful in its pathos is the poem of "A Court Lady," and there are few +satires more biting than "An August Voice," which, as an interpretation +of the Napoleonic words, is perfect. Nor did she fail to vindicate the +Peace of Villafranca:-- + + "But He stood sad before the sun + (The peoples felt their fate): + 'The world is many,--I am one; + My great Deed was too great. + God's fruit of justice ripens slow: + Men's souls are narrow; let them grow. + My brothers, we must wait.'" + +And truly, what Napoleon then failed, from opposition, to accomplish by +the sword, has since been, to a great extent, accomplished by diplomacy. + +But though Mrs. Browning wrote her "Tale of Villafranca" in full faith, +after many a mile-stone in time lay between her and the _fact_, her +friends remember how the woman bent and was wellnigh crushed, as by a +thunderbolt, when the intelligence of this Imperial Treaty was first +received. Coming so quickly upon the heels of the victories of Solferino +and San Martino, it is no marvel that what stunned Italy should have +almost killed Mrs. Browning. That it hastened her into the grave is +beyond a doubt, as she never fully shook off the severe attack of +illness occasioned by this check upon her life-hopes. The summer of 1859 +was a weary, suffering season for her in consequence; and although the +following winter, passed in Rome, helped to repair the evil that had +been wrought, a heavy cold, caught at the end of the season, (and +for the sake of seeing Rome's gift of swords to Napoleon and Victor +Emmanuel,) told upon her lungs. The autumn of 1860 brought with it +another sorrow in the death of a beloved sister, and this loss seemed +more than Mrs. Browning could bear; but by breathing the soft air of +Rome again she seemed to revive, and indeed wrote that she was "better +in body and soul." + +Those who have known Mrs. Browning in later years thought she never +looked better than upon her return to Florence in the first days of last +June, although the overland journey had been unusually fatiguing to her. +But the meeting was a sad one; for Cavour had died, and the national +loss was as severe to her as a personal bereavement. Her deep nature +regarded Italy's benefactor in the light of a friend; for had he not +labored unceasingly for that which was the burden of her song? and could +she allow so great a man to pass away without many a heart-ache? It is +as sublime as it is rare to see such intense appreciation of great deeds +as Mrs. Browning could give. Her fears, too, for Italy, when the patriot +pilot was hurried from the helm, gave rise to much anxiety, until +quieted by the assuring words of the new minister, Ricasoli. + +Nor was Mrs. Browning so much engrossed in the Italian regeneration that +she had no thought for other nations and for other wrongs. Her interest +in America was very great,-- + + "For poets, (bear the word!) + Half-poets even, are still whole democrats: + Oh, not that we're disloyal to the high, + But loyal to the low, and cognizant + Of the less scrutable majesties." + +In Mrs. Browning's poem of "A Curse for a Nation," where she foretold +the agony in store for America, and which has fallen upon us with the +swiftness of lightning, she was loath to raise her poet's voice against +us, pleading,-- + + "For I am hound by gratitude, + By love and blood, + To brothers of mine across the sea, + Who stretch out kindly hands to me." + +And in one of her last letters, addressed to an American friend who +had reminded her of her prophecy and of its present fulfilment, she +replied,--"Never say that I have 'cursed' your country. I only _declared +the consequence of the evil_ in her, and which has since developed +itself in thunder and flame. I feel with more pain than many Americans +do the sorrow of this transition-time; but I do know that it _is_ +transition, that it _is_ crisis, and that you will come out of the fire +purified, stainless, having had the angel of a great cause walking with +you in the furnace." Are not such burning, hopeful words from such a +source--worthy of the grateful memory of the Americans? Our cause has +lost an ardent supporter in Mrs. Browning; and did we dare rebel against +God's will, we should grieve deeply that she was not permitted to +glorify the Right in America as she has glorified it in Italy. Among +the last things that she read were Motley's letters on the "American +Crisis," and the writer will ever hold in dear memory the all but +final conversation had with Mrs. Browning, in which these letters were +discussed and warmly approved. In referring to the attitude taken by +foreign nations with regard to America, she said,--"Why do you heed what +others say? You are strong, and can do without sympathy; and when you +have triumphed, your glory will be the greater." Mrs. Browning's most +enthusiastic admirers are Americans; and I am sure, that, now she is no +longer of earth, they will love her the more for her sympathy in the +cause which is nearest to all hearts. + +Mrs. Browning's conversation was most interesting. It was not +characterized by sallies of wit or brilliant repartee, nor was it +of that nature which is most welcome in society. It was frequently +intermingled with trenchant, quaint remarks, leavened with a quiet, +graceful humor of her own; but it was eminently calculated for a +_tête-à-tête_. Mrs. Browning never made an insignificant remark. All +that she said was _always_ worth hearing;--a greater compliment could +not be paid her. She was a most conscientious listener, giving you her +mind and heart, as well as her magnetic eyes. Though the latter spoke an +eager language of their own, she conversed slowly, with a conciseness +and point that, added to a matchless earnestness, which was the +predominant trait of her conversation as it was of her character, made +her a most delightful companion. _Persons_ were never her theme, +unless public characters were under discussion, or friends were to be +praised,--which kind office she frequently took upon herself. One never +dreamed of frivolities in Mrs. Browning's presence, and gossip felt +itself out of place. _Your_self (not _her_self) was always a pleasant +subject to her, calling out all her best sympathies in joy, and yet more +in sorrow. Books and humanity, great deeds, and, above all, politics, +which include all the grand questions of the day, were foremost in her +thoughts, and therefore oftenest on her lips. I speak not of religion, +for with her everything was religion. Her Christianity was not confined +to church and rubric: it meant _civilization_. + +Association with the Brownings, even though of the slightest nature, +made one better in mind and soul. It was impossible to escape the +influence of the magnetic fluid of love and poetry that was constantly +passing between husband and wife. The unaffected devotion of one to the +other wove an additional charm around the two, and the very contrasts +in their natures made the union a more beautiful one. All remember Mrs. +Browning's pretty poem on her "Pet Name":-- + + "I have a name, a little name, + Uncadenced for the ear, + Unhonored by ancestral claim, + Unsanctified by prayer and psalm + The solemn font anear. + + * * * * * + + "My brother gave that name to me, + When we were children twain,-- + When names acquired baptismally + Were hard to utter, as to see + That life had any pain." + +It was this pet name of two small letters lovingly combined that dotted +Mr. Browning's spoken thoughts, as moonbeams fleck the ocean, and seemed +the pearl-bead that linked conversation together in one harmonious +whole. But what was written has now come to pass. The pet name is +engraved only in the hearts of a few. + + "Though I write books, it will be read + Upon the leaves of none; + And afterward, when I am dead, + Will ne'er be graved, for sight or tread, + Across my funeral stone." + +Mrs. Browning's letters are masterpieces of their kind. Easy and +conversational, they touch upon no subject without leaving an indelible +impression of the writer's originality; and the myriad matters of +universal interest with which many of them are teeming will render them +a precious legacy to the world, when the time shall have arrived for +their publication. Of late, Italy has claimed the lion's share in these +unrhymed sketches of Mrs. Browning in the _négligée_ of home. Prose has +recorded all that poetry threw aside; and thus much political thought, +many an anecdote, many a reflection, and much womanly enthusiasm have +been stored up for the benefit of more than the persons to whom these +letters were addressed. And while we wait patiently for this great +pleasure, which must sooner or later be enjoyed and appreciated, we may +gather a foretaste of Mrs. Browning's power in prose-writing from her +early essays, and from the admirable preface to the "Poems before +Congress." The latter is simple in its style, and grand in teachings +that find few followers among _nations_ in these _enlightened_ days. + +Some are prone to moralize over precious stones, and see in them the +petrified souls of men and women. There is no stone so sympathetic as +the opal, which one might fancy to be a concentration of Mrs. Browning's +genius. It is essentially the _woman-stone_, giving out a sympathetic +warmth, varying its colors from day to day, as though an index of the +heart's barometer. There is the topmost purity of white, blended with +the delicate, perpetual verdure of hope, and down in the opal's centre +lies the deep crimson of love. The red, the white, and the green, +forming as they do the colors of Italy, render the opal doubly like Mrs. +Browning. It is right that the woman-stone should inclose the symbols of +the "Woman Country." + +Feeling all these things of Mrs. Browning, it becomes the more painful +to place on record an account of those last days that have brought with +them so universal a sorrow. Mrs. Browning's illness was only of a week's +duration. Having caught a severe cold of a more threatening nature than +usual, medical skill was summoned; but, although anxiety in her behalf +was necessarily felt, there was no whisper of great danger until the +third or fourth night, when those who most loved her said they had never +seen her so ill; on the following morning, however, she was better, and +from that moment was thought to be improving in health. She herself +believed this; and all had such confidence in her wondrous vitality, and +the hope was so strong that God would spare her for still greater good, +that a dark veil was drawn over what might be. It is often the case, +where we are accustomed to associate constant suffering with dear +friends, that we calmly look danger in the face without misgivings. So +little did Mrs. Browning realize her critical condition, that, until the +last day, she did not consider herself sufficiently indisposed to remain +in bed, and then the precaution was accidental. So much encouraged +did she feel with regard to herself, that, on this final evening, an +intimate female friend was admitted to her bedside and found her in good +spirits, ready at pleasantry and willing to converse on all the old +loved subjects. Her ruling passion had prompted her to glance at the +"Athenaeum" and "Nazione"; and when this friend repeated the opinions +she had heard expressed by an acquaintance of the new Italian Premier, +Ricasoli, to the effect that his policy and Cavour's were identical, +Mrs. Browning "smiled like Italy," and thankfully replied,--"I am glad +of it; I thought so." Even then her thoughts were not of self. This near +friend went away with no suspicion of what was soon to be a terrible +reality. Mrs. Browning's own bright boy bade his mother goodnight, +cheered by her oft-repeated, "I am better, dear, much better." Inquiring +friends were made happy by these assurances. + +One only watched her breathing through the night,--he who for fifteen +years had ministered to her with all the tenderness of a woman. It was a +night devoid of suffering _to her_. As morning approached, and for +two hours previous to the dread moment, she seemed to be in a partial +ecstasy; and though not apparently conscious of the coming on of death, +she gave her husband all those holy words of love, all the consolation +of an oft-repeated blessing, whose value death has made priceless. +Such moments are too sacred for the common pen, which pauses as the +woman-poet raises herself up to die in the arms of her poet-husband. He +knew not that death had robbed him of his treasure, until the drooping +form grew chill and froze his heart's blood. + +At half-past four, on the morning of the 29th of June, Elizabeth Barrett +Browning died of congestion of the lungs. Her last words were, "_It is +beautiful!_" God was merciful to the end, sparing her and hers the agony +of a frenzied parting, giving proof to those who were left of the glory +and happiness in store for her, by those few words, "_It is beautiful!_" +The spirit could see its future mission even before shaking off the dust +of the earth. + +Gazing on her peaceful face with its eyes closed on us forever, our cry +was _her_ "Cry of the Human." + + "We tremble by the harmless bed + Of one loved and departed; + Our tears drop on the lips that said + Last night, 'Be stronger-hearted!' + O God! to clasp those fingers close, + And yet to feel so lonely! + To see a light upon such brows, + Which is the daylight only! + Be pitiful, O God!" + +On the evening of July 1st, the lovely English burying-ground without +the walls of Florence opened its gates to receive one more occupant. A +band of English, Americans, and Italians, sorrowing men and women, +whose faces as well as dress were in mourning, gathered around the bier +containing all that was mortal of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Who of +those present will forget the solemn scene, made doubly impressive by +the grief of the husband and son? "The sting of death is sin," said the +clergyman. Sinless in life, _her_ death, then, was without sting; and +turning our thoughts inwardly, we murmured _her_ prayers for the dead, +and wished that they might have been her burial-service. We heard her +poet-voice saying,-- + + "And friends, dear friends, when it shall be + That this low breath is gone from me, + And round my bier ye come to weep, + Let one most loving of you all + Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall,-- + He giveth His beloved sleep.'" + +But the tears would fall, as they bore her up the hill, and lowered "His +beloved" into her resting-place, the grave. The sun itself was sinking +to rest behind the western hills, and sent a farewell smile of love +into the east, that it might glance on the lowering bier. The distant +mountains hid their faces in a misty veil, and the tall cypress-trees +of the cemetery swayed and sighed as Nature's special mourners for her +favored child; and there they are to stand keeping watch over her. + + "Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little + birds sang west, + _Toll slowly!_ + And I said in under-breath, All our life is + mixed with death, + And who knoweth which is best? + + * * * * * + + "Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little + birds sang west, + _Toll slowly!_ + And I 'paused' to think God's greatness + flowed around our incompleteness,-- + Round our restlessness, His rest." + +Dust to dust,--and the earth fell with a dull echo on the coffin. We +gathered round to take one look, and saw a double grave, too large for +her;--may it wait long and patiently for _him!_ + +And now a mound of earth marks the spot where sleeps Elizabeth Barrett +Browning. A white wreath to mark her woman's purity lies on her head; +the laurel wreath of the poet lies at her feet; and friendly hands +scatter white flowers over the grave of a week as symbols of the dead. + +We feel as she wrote,-- + + "God keeps a niche + In heaven to hold our idols; and albeit + He brake them to our faces, and denied + That our close kisses should impair their white, + I know we shall behold them raised, complete, + The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, + New Memnons singing in the great God-light." + +It is strange that Cavour and Mrs. Browning should have died in the same +month, within twenty-three days of each other,--the one the head, the +other the heart of Italy. As head and heart made up the perfect life, +so death was not complete until Heaven welcomed both. It seemed also +strange, that on the night after Mrs. Browning's decease an unexpected +comet should glare ominously out of the sky. For the moment we were +superstitious, and believed in it as a minister of woe. + +Great as is this loss, Mrs. Browning's death is not without a sad +consolation. From the shattered condition of her lungs, the physician +feels assured that existence could not at the farthest have been +prolonged for more than six months. Instead of a sudden call to God, +life would have slowly ebbed away; and, too feeble for the slightest +exertion, she must have been denied the solace of books, of friends, of +writing, perhaps of thought even. God saved her from a living grave, +and her husband from protracted misery. Seeking for the shadow of Mrs. +Browning's self in her poetry, (for she was a rare instance of an +author's superiority to his work,) many an expression is found that +welcomes the thought of a change which would free her from the suffering +inseparable from her mortality. There is a yearning for a more fully +developed life, to be found most frequently in her sonnets. She writes +at times as though, through weakness of the body, her wings were tied:-- + + "When I attain to utter forth in verse + Some inward thought, my soul throbs audibly + Along my pulses, yearning to be free, + And something farther, fuller, higher rehearse, + To the individual true, and the universe, + In consummation of right harmony! + But, like a wind-exposed, distorted tree, + We are blown against forever by the curse + Which breathes through Nature. Oh, the world is weak; + The effluence of each is false to all; + Add what we best conceive, we fail to speak! + Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall, + And then resume thy broken strains, and seek + Fit peroration without let or thrall!" + +The "ashen garments" have fallen,-- + + "And though we must have and have had + Right reason to be earthly sad, + Thou Poet-God art great and glad!" + +It was meet that Mrs. Browning should come home to die in her Florence, +in her Casa Guidi, where she had passed her happy married life, where +her boy was born, and where she had watched and rejoiced over the second +birth of a great nation. Her heart-strings did not entwine themselves +around Rome as around Florence, and it seems as though life had been so +eked out that she might find a lasting sleep in Florence. Rome holds +fast its Shelley and Keats, to whose lowly graves there is many a +reverential pilgrimage; and now Florence, no less honored, has its +shrine sacred to the memory of Theodore Parker and Elizabeth Barrett +Browning. + +The present Florence is not the Florence of other days. It can never be +the same to those who loved it as much for Mrs. Browning's sake as for +its own. Her reflection remains and must ever remain; for, + + "while she rests, her songs in troops + Walk up and down our earthly slopes, + Companioned by diviner hopes." + +The Italians have shown much feeling at the loss which they, too, have +sustained,--more than might have been expected, when it is considered +that few of them are conversant with the English language, and that to +those few English poetry (Byron excepted) is unknown. + +A battalion of the National Guard was to have followed Mrs. Browning's +remains to the grave, had not a misunderstanding as to time frustrated +this testimonial of respect. The Florentines have expressed great +interest in the young boy, Tuscan-born, and have even requested that +he should be educated as an Italian, when any career in the new Italy +should be open to him. Though this offer will not be accepted, it was +most kindly meant, and shows with what reverence Florence regards the +name of Browning. Mrs. Browning's friends are anxious that a tablet to +her memory should be placed in the Florentine Pantheon, the Church of +Santa Croce. It is true she was not a Romanist, neither was she an +Italian,--yet she was Catholic, and more than an Italian. Her genius and +what she has done for Italy entitle her to companionship with Galileo, +Michel Angelo, Dante, and Alfieri. The friars who have given their +permission for the erection of a monument to Cavour in Santa Croce ought +willingly to make room for a tablet on which should be inscribed, + + SHE SANG THE SONG OF ITALY. + SHE WROTE "AURORA LEIGH." + + + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_Edwin of Deira._ By ALEXANDER SMITH. London: Macmillan & Co. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 16mo. + +A third volume of verse by Alexander Smith certainly claims a share of +public attention. We should not be at all surprised, if this, his latest +venture, turn out his most approved one. The volcanic lines in his +earlier pieces drew upon him the wrath of Captain Stab and many younger +officers of justice, till then innocent of ink-shed. The old weapons +will, no doubt, be drawn upon him profusely enough now. Suffice it for +us, this month, if we send to the printer a taste of Alexander's last +feast and ask him to "hand it round." + + * * * * * + +BERTHA. + + "So, in the very depth of pleasant May, + When every hedge was milky white, the lark + A speck against a cape of sunny cloud, + Yet heard o'er all the fields, and when his heart + Made all the world as happy as itself,-- + Prince Edwin, with a score of lusty knights, + Rode forth a bridegroom to bring home his bride. + Brave sight it was to see them on their way, + Their long white mantles ruffling in the wind, + Their jewelled bridles, horses keen as flame + Crushing the flowers to fragrance as they moved! + Now flashed they past the solitary crag, + Now glimmered through the forest's dewy gloom, + Now issued to the sun. The summer night + Hung o'er their tents, within the valley pitched, + Her transient pomp of stars. When that had paled, + And when the peaks of all the region stood + Like crimson islands in a sea of dawn, + They, yet in shadow, struck their canvas town; + For Love shook slumber from him as a foe, + And would not be delayed. At height of noon, + When, shining from the woods afar in front, + The Prince beheld the palace-gates, his heart + Was lost in its own beatings, like a sound + In echoes. When the cavalcade drew near, + To meet it, forth the princely brothers pranced, + In plume and golden scale; and when they met, + Sudden, from out the palace, trumpets rang + Gay wedding music. Bertha, among her maids, + Upstarted, as she caught the happy sound, + Bright as a star that brightens 'gainst the night. + When forth she came, the summer day was dimmed; + For all its sunshine sank into her hair, + Its azure in her eyes. The princely man + Lord of a happiness unknown, unknown, + Which cannot all be known for years and years,-- + Uncomprehended as the shapes of hills + When one stands in the midst! A week went by, + Deepening from feast to feast; and at the close, + The gray priest lifted up his solemn hands, + And two fair lives were sweetly blent in one, + As stream in stream. Then once again the knights + Were gathered fair as flowers upon the sward, + While in the distant chambers women wept, + And, crowding, blessed the little golden head, + So soon to lie upon a stranger's breast, + And light that place no more. The gate stood wide: + Forth Edwin came enclothed with happiness; + She trembled at the murmur and the stir + That heaved around,--then, on a sudden, shrank, + When through the folds of downcast lids she felt + Burn on her face the wide and staring day, + And all the curious eyes. Her brothers cried, + When she was lifted on the milky steed, + 'Ah! little one, 't will soon be dark to-night! + A hundred times we'll miss thee in a day, + A hundred times we'll rise up to thy call, + And want and emptiness will come on us! + Now, at the last, our love would hold thee back! + Let this kiss snap the cord! Cheer up, my girl! + We'll come and see thee when thou hast a boy + To toss up proudly to his father's face, + To let him hear it crow!' Away they rode; + And still the brethren watched them from the door, + Till purple distance took them. How she wept, + When, looking back, she saw the things she knew-- + The palace, streak of waterfall, the mead, + The gloomy belt of forest--fade away + Into the gray of mountains! With a chill + The wide strange world swept round her, and she clung + Close to her husband's side. A silken tent + They spread for her, and for her tiring-girls, + Upon the hills at sunset. All was hushed + Save Edwin; for the thought that Bertha slept + In that wild place,--roofed by the moaning wind, + The black blue midnight with its fiery pulse,-- + So good, so precious, woke a tenderness + In which there lived uneasily a fear + That kept him still awake. And now, high up, + There burned upon the mountain's craggy top + Their journey's rosy signal. On they went; + And as the day advanced, upon a ridge, + They saw their home o'ershadowed by a cloud; + And, hanging but a moment on the steep, + A sunbeam touched it into dusty rain; + And, lo, the town lay gleaming 'mong the woods, + And the wet shores were bright. As nigh they drew, + The town was emptied to its very babes, + And spread as thick as daisies o'er the fields. + The wind that swayed a thousand chestnut cones, + And sported in the surges of the rye, + Forgot its idle play, and, smit with love, + Dwelt in her fluttering robe. On every side + The people leaped like billows for a sight, + And closed behind, like waves behind a ship. + Yet, in the very hubbub of the joy, + A deepening hush went with her on her way; + She was a thing so exquisite, the hind + Felt his own rudeness; silent women blessed + The lady, as her beauty swam in eyes + Sweet with unwonted tears. Through crowds she passed, + Distributing a largess of her smiles; + And as she entered through the palace-gate, + The wondrous sunshine died from out the air, + And everything resumed its common look. + The sun dropped down into the golden west, + Evening drew on apace; and round the fire + The people sat and talked of her who came + That day to dwell amongst them, and they praised + Her sweet face, saying she was good as fair. + + "So, while the town hummed on as was its wont, + With mill, and wheel, and scythe, and lowing steer + In the green field,--while, round a hundred hearths, + Brown Labor boasted of the mighty deeds + Done in the meadow swaths, and Envy hissed + Its poison, that corroded all it touched,-- + Rusting a neighbor's gold, mildewing wheat, + And blistering the pure skin of chastest maid,-- + Edwin and Bertha sat in marriage joy, + From all removed, as heavenly creatures winged, + Alit upon a hill-top near the sun, + When all the world is reft of man and town + By distance, and their hearts the silence fills-- + Not long: for unto them, as unto all, + Down from love's height unto the world of men + Occasion called with many a sordid voice. + So forth they fared with sweetness in their hearts, + That took the sense of sharpness from the thorn. + Sweet is love's sun within the heavens alone, + But not less sweet when tempered by a cloud + Of daily duties! Love's elixir, drained + From out the pure and passionate cup of youth, + Is sweet; but better, providently used, + A few drops sprinkled in each common dish + Wherewith the human table is set forth, + Leavening all with heaven. Seated high + Among his people, on the lofty dais, + Dispensing judgment,--making woodlands ring + Behind a flying hart with hound and horn,-- + Talking with workmen on the tawny sands, + 'Mid skeletons of ships, how best the prow + May slice the big wave and shake off the foam,-- + Edwin preserved a spirit calm, composed, + Still as a river at the full of tide; + And in his eye there gathered deeper blue, + And beamed a warmer summer. And when sprang + The angry blood, at sloth, or fraud, or wrong, + Something of Bertha touched him into peace + And swayed his voice. Among the people went + Queen Bertha, breathing gracious charities, + And saw but smiling faces; for the light + Aye looks on brightened colors. Like the dawn + (Beloved of all the happy, often sought + In the slow east by hollow eyes that watch) + She seemed to husked find clownish gratitude, + That could but kneel and thank. Of industry + She was the fair exemplar, us she span + Among her maids; and every day she broke + Bread to the needy stranger at her gate. + All sloth and rudeness fled at her approach; + The women blushed and courtesied as she passed, + Preserving word and smile like precious gold; + And where on pillows clustered children's heads, + A shape of light she floated through their dreams." + + +_History, Theory, and Practice of the Electric Telegraph_. By GEORGE B. +PRESCOTT, Superintendent of Electric Telegraph Lines. Boston: Ticknor +and Fields. 1861. 12mo. + +It may be safely said that no one of the wonder-working agencies of the +nineteenth century, of an importance in any degree equal to that of the +Electric Telegraph, is so little understood in its practical details by +the world at large. Its results come before us daily, to satisfy +our morning and evening appetite for news; but how few have a clear +knowledge of even the simplest rules which govern its operation, to say +nothing of the vast and complicated system by which these results are +made so universal! The general intelligence, at present, doubtless +outruns the dull apprehension of the typical Hibernian, who, in earlier +telegraphic times, wasted the better part of a day in watching for the +passage of a veritable letter over the wires; but even now,--after +twenty years of Electric Telegraphy, during which the progress of the +magic wire has been so rapid that it has already reached an extent of +nearly sixty thousand miles in the United States alone,--even now the +ideas of men in general as to the _modus operandi_ of this great +agency are, to say the least, extremely vague. Even the chronic and +pamphlet-producing quarrel between the managers of our telegraphic +system and their Briarean antagonist, the daily-newspaper-press, fails +to convey to our general sense anything beyond the impression that +the most gigantic benefits may be so abused as to tempt us into an +occasional wish that they had never existed. + +One reason of this general ignorance has been the absence of any +text-book or manual on the subject, giving a clear and thorough +exposition of its mysteries. The present is the first American work +which takes the subject in hand from the beginning and carries it +through the entire process which leads to the results we have spoken of. +Its author brings to his work the best possible qualification,--a +long familiarity with the subject in the every-day details of its +development. His Introduction informs the reader that he has been +engaged for thirteen years in the business of practical telegraphing. +He is thus sure of his ground, from the best of sources, personal +experience. + +We shall not criticize the work in detail, but shall rest satisfied with +saying that the author has succeeded in his design of making the whole +subject clear to any reader who will follow his lucid and systematic +exposition. The plan of the work is simple, and the arrangement orderly +and proper. A concise statement is given of the fundamental principles +of electricity, and of the means of its artificial propagation. This +includes, of course, a description of the various batteries used in +telegraphing. Then follows a chapter upon electro-magnetism and its +application to the telegraph. This prepares the way for a statement +of the physical conditions under which the electrical current may be +conveyed. The author then describes the instruments necessary for the +transmission and recording of intelligible signs, under which general +head of "Electric Telegraph Apparatus" the various telegraphic systems +are made the subject of careful description. A chapter is given to the +history of each system,--the Morse, the Needle, the House, the Bain, the +Hughes, the Combination, and others of less note. These chapters are +very complete and very interesting, embodying, as they do, the history +of each instrument, the details of its use, and a statement of its +capabilities. The system most used in America is the Combination +system, the printing instrument of which is the result of an ingenious +combination of the most desirable qualities of the House and Hughes +systems. Of this fine instrument a full-page engraving is given, which, +with Mr. Prescott's careful explanation, renders the recording process +very clear. + +The next division of the work relates to subterranean and submarine +telegraphic lines. Of this the greater portion is devoted to the +Atlantic cable, the great success and the great failure of our time. +The chapter devoted to this unfortunate enterprise gives the completest +account of its rise, progress, and decline that we have ever seen. It +seems to set at rest, so far as evidence can do it, the mooted question +whether any message ever did really pass through the submerged cable,--a +point upon which there are many unbelievers, even at the present day. We +think these unbelievers would do well to read the account before us. Mr. +Prescott informs us, that, from the first laying of the cable to the day +when it ceased to work, no less than four hundred messages were actually +transmitted: one hundred and twenty-nine from Valentia to Trinity Bay, +and two hundred and seventy-one from Trinity Bay to Valentia. The +curious reader may find copies of all these messages chronologically set +down in this volume. Mr. Prescott expresses entire confidence in the +restoration of telegraphic communication between the two hemispheres. It +may be reasonably doubted, however, if _direct submarine_ communication +will ever be resumed. Two other routes are suggested as more likely +to become the course of the international wires. One is that lately +examined by Sir Leopold M'Clintock and Captain Young, under the auspices +of the British Government. This route, taking the extreme northern coast +of Scotland as its point of departure, and touching the Faroe Islands, +Iceland, and Greenland, strikes our continent upon the coast of +Labrador, making the longest submarine section eight hundred miles, +about one-third the length of the Atlantic cable. There is not a little +doubt, however, as to the practicability of this route; and as the +British Government has already expended several hundred thousand pounds +in experimenting upon submarine cables, it is not likely that it will +venture much more upon any project not holding out a very absolute +promise of success. What seems more likely is, that our telegraphic +communication with Europe will be made eventually through Asia. Even +now the Russian Government is vigorously pushing its telegraphic lines +eastward from Moscow; and its own interest affords a strong guaranty +that telegraphic communication will soon be established between its +commercial metropolis and its military and trading posts on the Pacific +border. A project has also recently taken form to establish a line +between Quebec and the Hudson Bay Company's posts north of the Columbia +River. With the two extremes so near meeting, a submarine wire would +soon be laid over Behring's Straits, or crossing at a more southern +point and touching the Aleutian Islands in its passage. + +Two of the chapters of this work will be recognized by readers of the +"Atlantic" as having first appeared in its pages,--a chapter upon the +Progress and Present Condition of the Electric Telegraph in the various +countries of the world, and a description of the Electrical Influence +of the Aurora Borealis upon the Working of the Telegraph. These, with +a curiously interesting chapter upon the Various Applications of the +Telegraph, and an amusing miscellaneous chapter showing that the +Telegraph has a literature of its own, complete the chief popular +elements of the volume. The remainder is devoted mainly to a technical +treatise on the proper method of constructing telegraphic lines, +perfecting insulation, etc. In an Appendix we have a more careful +consideration of Galvanism, and a more detailed examination of the +qualities and capacities of the various batteries. + +As is becoming in any, and especially in an American, treatise upon this +great subject, Mr. Prescott devotes some space to a detailed account of +the labors of Professor Morse, which have led to his being regarded as +the father of our American system of telegraphing. In a chapter entitled +"Early Discoveries in Electro-Dynamics," he publishes for the first time +some interesting facts elicited during the trial, in the Supreme Court +of the United States, of the suit of the Morse patentees against the +House Company for alleged infringement of patent. In this chapter we +have a _résumé_ of the evidence before the Court, and an abstract of the +decision of Judge Woodbury. This leads clearly to the conclusion, that, +although Professor Morse had no claims to any merit of actual invention, +yet he had the purely mechanical merit of having gone beyond all his +compeers in the application of discoveries and inventions already made, +and that he was the first to contrive and set in operation a thoroughly +effective instrument. + +Mr. Prescott has produced a very readable and useful book. It has been +thoroughly and appropriately illustrated, and is a very elegant specimen +of the typographer's art. + + +_Great Expectations_. By CHARLES DICKENS. Philadelphia: T.B. Peterson & +Brothers. 8vo. + +The very title of this book indicates the confidence of conscious +genius. In a new aspirant for public favor, such a title might have been +a good device to attract attention; but the most famous novelist of the +day, watched by jealous rivals and critics, could hardly have selected +it, had he not inwardly felt the capacity to meet all the expectations +he raised. We have read it, as we have read all Mr. Dickens's previous +works, as it appeared in instalments, and can testify to the felicity +with which expectation was excited and prolonged, and to the series of +surprises which accompanied the unfolding of the plot of the story. In +no other of his romances has the author succeeded so perfectly in at +once stimulating and baffling the curiosity of his readers. He stirred +the dullest minds to guess the secret of his mystery; but, so far as +we have learned, the guesses of his most intelligent readers have been +almost as wide of the mark as those of the least apprehensive. It has +been all the more provoking to the former class, that each surprise was +the result of art, and not of trick; for a rapid review of previous +chapters has shown that the materials of a strictly logical development +of the story were freely given. Even after the first, second, third, and +even fourth of these surprises gave their pleasing electric shocks +to intelligent curiosity, the _dénouement_ was still hidden, though +confidentially foretold. The plot of the romance is therefore +universally admitted to be the best that Dickens has ever invented. Its +leading events are, as we read the story consecutively, artistically +necessary, yet, at the same time, the processes are artistically +concealed. We follow the movement of a logic of passion and character, +the real premises of which we detect only when we are startled by the +conclusions. + +The plot of "Great Expectations" is also noticeable as indicating, +better than any of his previous stories, the individuality of Dickens's +genius. Everybody must have discerned in the action of his mind two +diverging tendencies, which, in this novel, are harmonized. He possesses +a singularly wide, clear, and minute power of accurate observation, +both of things and of persons; but his observation, keen and true to +actualities as it independently is, is not a dominant faculty, and is +opposed or controlled by the strong tendency of his disposition to +pathetic or humorous idealization. Perhaps in "The Old Curiosity Shop" +these qualities are best seen in their struggle and divergence, and +the result is a magnificent juxtaposition of romantic tenderness, +melodramatic improbabilities, and broad farce. The humorous +characterization is joyously exaggerated into caricature,--the serious +characterization into romantic unreality, Richard Swiveller and Little +Nell refuse to combine. There is abundant evidence of genius both in the +humorous and the pathetic parts, but the artistic impression is one of +anarchy rather than unity. + +In "Great Expectations," on the contrary, Dickens seems to have attained +the mastery of powers which formerly more or less mastered him. He has +fairly discovered that he cannot, like Thackeray, narrate a story as if +he were a mere looker-on, a mere "knowing" observer of what he describes +and represents; and he has therefore taken observation simply as the +basis of his plot and his characterization. As we read "Vanity Fair" and +"The Newcomes," we are impressed with the actuality of the persons and +incidents. There is an absence both of directing ideas and disturbing +idealizations. Everything drifts to its end, as in real life. In "Great +Expectations" there is shown a power of external observation finer and +deeper even than Thackeray's; and yet, owing to the presence of other +qualities, the general impression is not one of objective reality. The +author palpably uses his observations as materials for his creative +faculties to work upon; he does not record, but invents; and he produces +something which is natural only under conditions prescribed by his own +mind. He shapes, disposes, penetrates, colors, and contrives everything, +and the whole action, is a series of events which could have occurred +only in his own brain, and which it is difficult to conceive of as +actually "happening." And yet in none of his other works does he +evince a shrewder insight into real life, and a clearer perception +and knowledge of what is called "the world." The book is, indeed, an +artistic creation, and not a mere succession of humorous and pathetic +scenes, and demonstrates that Dickens is now in the prime, and not in +the decline of his great powers. + +The characters of the novel also show how deeply it has been meditated; +for, though none of them may excite the personal interest which clings +to Sam Weller or little Dombey, they are better fitted to each other and +to the story in which they appear than is usual with Dickens. They all +combine to produce that unity of impression which the work leaves on +the mind. Individually they will rank among the most original of the +author's creations. Magwitch and Joe Gargery, Jaggers and Wemmick, +Pip and Herbert, Wopsle, Pumblechook, and "the Aged," Miss Havisham, +Estella, and Biddy, are personages which the most assiduous readers of +Dickens must pronounce positive additions to the characters his rich and +various genius had already created. + +Pip, the hero, from whose mind the whole representation takes its form +and color, is admirably delineated throughout. Weak, dreamy, amiable, +apprehensive, aspiring, inefficient, the subject and the victim of +"Great Expectations," his individuality is, as it were, diffused through +the whole narrative. Joe is a noble character, with a heart too great +for his powers of expression to utter in words, but whose patience, +fortitude, tenderness, and beneficence shine lucidly through his +confused and mangled English. Magwitch, the "warmint" who "grew up took +up," whose memory extended only to that period of his childhood when he +was "a-thieving turnips for his living" down in Essex, but in whom a +life of crime had only intensified the feeling of gratitude for the one +kind action of which he was the object, is hardly equalled in grotesque +grandeur by anything which Dickens has previously done. The character +is not only powerful in itself, but it furnishes pregnant and original +hints to all philosophical investigators into the phenomena of crime. In +this wonderful creation Dickens follows the maxim of the great master of +characterization, and seeks "the soul of goodness in things evil." + +The style of the romance is rigorously close to things. The author is so +engrossed with the objects before his mind, is so thoroughly in earnest, +that he has fewer of those humorous caprices of expression in which +formerly he was wont to wanton. Some of the old hilarity and play of +fancy is gone, but we hardly miss it in our admiration of the effects +produced by his almost stern devotion to the main idea of his work. +There are passages of description and narrative in which we are hardly +conscious of the words, in our clear apprehension of the objects and +incidents they convey. The quotable epithets and phrases are less +numerous than in "Dombey & Son" and "David Copperfield"; but the scenes +and events impressed on the imagination are perhaps greater in number +and more vivid in representation. The poetical element of the writer's +genius, his modification of the forms, hues, and sounds of Nature by +viewing them through the medium of an imagined mind, is especially +prominent throughout the descriptions with which the work abounds. +Nature is not only described, but individualized and humanized. + +Altogether we take great joy in recording our conviction that "Great +Expectations" is a masterpiece. We have never sympathized in the mean +delight which some critics seem to experience in detecting the signs +which subtly indicate the decay of power in creative intellects. We +sympathize still less in the stupid and ungenerous judgments of those +who find a still meaner delight in wilfully asserting that the last book +of a popular writer is unworthy of the genius which produced his first. +In our opinion, "Great Expectations" is a work which proves that we may +expect from Dickens a series of romances far exceeding in power and +artistic skill the productions which have already given him such a +preeminence among the novelists of the age. + + +_Tom Brown at Oxford: A Sequel to School-Days at Rugby_. By the Author +of "School-Days at Rugby," "Scouring of the White Horse," etc. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 2 vols. 16mo. + +Thomas Hughes, the author of these volumes, does not, on a superficial +examination, seem to deserve the wide reputation he has obtained. We +hunt his books in vain for any of those obvious peculiarities of style, +thought, and character which commonly distinguish a man from his +fellows. He does not possess striking wit, or humor, or imagination, or +power of expression. In every quality, good or bad, calculated to create +"a sensation," he is remarkably deficient. Yet everybody reads him with +interest, and experiences for him a feeling of personal affection and +esteem. An unobtrusive, yet evident nobility of character, a sound, +large, "round-about" common-sense, a warm sympathy with English and +human kind, a practical grasp of human life as it is lived by ordinary +people, and an unmistakable sincerity and earnestness of purpose animate +everything he writes. His "School-Days at Rugby" delighted men as well +as boys by the freshness, geniality, and truthfulness with which it +represented boyish experiences; and the Tom Brown who, in that book, +gained so many friends wherever the English tongue is spoken, parts with +none of his power to interest and charm in this record of his collegiate +life. Mr. Hughes has the true, wholesome English love of home, the +English delight in rude physical sports, the English hatred of hypocrisy +and cant, the English fidelity to facts, the English disbelief in all +piety and morality which are not grounded in manliness. The present work +is full of illustrations of these healthy qualities of his nature, +and they are all intimately connected with an elevated, yet eminently +sagacious spirit of Christian philanthropy. Tom Brown at Oxford, as well +as Tom Brown at Rugby, will, so far as he exerts any influence, exert +one for good. He has a plentiful lack of those impossible virtues which +disgust boys and young men with the models set up as examples for them +to emulate in books deliberately moral and religious; but he none the +less shows how a manly and Christian character can be attained by +methods which are all the more influential by departing from the common +mechanical contrivances for fashioning lusty youths into consumptive +saints, incompetent to do the work of the Lord in this world, however +they may fare in the next. Mr. Hughes can hardly be called a disciple of +"Muscular Christianity," except so far as muscle is necessary to give +full efficiency to mind; but he feels all the contempt possible to such +a tolerant nature for that spurious piety which kills the body in order +to give a sickly appearance of life to the soul. + + * * * * * + + +RECENT AMERICAN PUBLICATIONS + +RECEIVED BY THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + + +History of Civilization in England. By Henry Thomas Buckle. 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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 + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** diff --git a/old/11316-8.zip b/old/11316-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e6dac5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11316-8.zip diff --git a/old/11316.txt b/old/11316.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..beb9575 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11316.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9276 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Atlantic Monthly, Volume 8, No. 47, +September, 1861, by Various + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Atlantic Monthly, Volume 8, No. 47, September, 1861 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 26, 2004 [eBook #11316] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, VOLUME 8, NO. +47, SEPTEMBER, 1861*** + + +E-text prepared by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen, and Project Gutenberg +Distributed Proofreaders + + + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. VIII.--SEPTEMBER, 1861.--NO. XLVII. + + + + + + + +THE SHAKESPEARE MYSTERY. + + +In 1853 there went up a jubilant cry from many voices upon the +publication of Mr. Collier's "Notes and Emendations to the Text of +Shakespeare's Plays from Early Manuscript Corrections," etc. "Now," it +was said, "doubt and controversy are at an end. The text is settled by +the weight of authority, and in accordance with common sense. We shall +enjoy our Shakespeare in peace and quiet." Hopeless ignorance of +Shakespeare-loving nature! The shout of rejoicing had hardly been +uttered before there arose a counter cry of warning and defiance from +a few resolute lips, which, swelling, mouth by mouth, as attention was +aroused and conviction strengthened, has overwhelmed the other, now sunk +into a feeble apologetic plea. The dispute upon the marginal readings in +this notorious volume, as to their intrinsic value and their pretence to +authority upon internal evidence, has ended in the rejection of nearly +all of the few which are known to be peculiar to it, and the conclusion +against any semblance of such authority. The investigation of the +external evidence of their genuineness, though it has not been quite so +satisfactory upon all points, has brought to light so many suspicious +circumstances connected with Mr. Collier's production of them before the +public, that they must be regarded as unsupported by the moral weight of +good faith in the only person who is responsible for them. + +Since our previous article upon this subject,[A] nothing has appeared +upon it in this country; but several important publications have +been made in London concerning it; and, in fact, this department of +Shakespearian literature threatens to usurp a special shelf in the +dramatic library. The British Museum has fairly entered the field, not +only in the persons of Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Maskelyne, but in that of +Sir Frederic Madden himself, the head of its Manuscript Department, and +one of the very first paleographers of the age; Mr. Collier has made a +formal reply; the Department of Public Records has spoken through Mr. +Duffus Hardy; the "Edinburgh Review" has taken up the controversy on one +side and "Fraser's Magazine" on the other; the London "Critic" has kept +up a galling fire on Mr. Collier, his folio, and his friends, to which +the "Athenaeum" has replied by an occasional shot, red-hot; the author +of "Literary Cookery," (said to be Mr. Arthur Edmund Brae,) a well-read, +ingenious, caustic, and remorseless writer, whose first book was +suppressed as libellous, has returned to the charge, and not less +effectively because more temperately; and finally an LL.D., Mansfield +Ingleby, of Trinity College, Cambridge, comes forward with a "Complete +View of the Controversy," which is manifestly meant for a complete +extinction of Mr. Collier. Dr. Ingleby's book is quite a good one of its +kind, and those who seek to know the history and see the grounds of this +famous and bitter controversy will find it very serviceable. It gives, +what it professes to give, a complete view of the whole subject from the +beginning, and treats most of the prominent points of it with care, and +generally with candor. Its view, however, is from the stand-point of +uncompromising hostility to Mr. Collier, and its spirit not unlike that +with which a man might set out to exterminate vermin.[B] + +[Footnote A: October, 1859. No. XXIV.] + +[Footnote B: We do not attribute the spirit of Dr. Ingleby's book to any +inherent malignity or deliberately malicious purpose of its author, but +rather to that relentless partisanship which this folio seems to have +excited among the British critics. So we regard his reference to +"almighty smash" and "catawampously chawed up" as specimens of the +language used in America, and his disparagement of the English in vogue +here, less as a manifestation of a desire to misrepresent, or even a +willingness to sneer, than as an amusing exhibition of utter ignorance. +In what part of America and from what lips did Dr. Ingleby ever hear +these phrases? We have never heard them; and in a somewhat varied +experience of American life have never been in any society, however +humble, in which they would not excite laughter, if not astonishment, +--astonishment even greater than that with which Americans of average +cultivation would read such phrases as these in a goodly octavo +published by a Doctor of the Laws of Cambridge University. "And one +ground upon which the hypothesis of Hamlet's insanity has been built is +'_swagged_.'" (_Complete View_, p. 82.) "The interests of literature +_jeopardized_, but not compromised." (_Ib_. p. 10.) "The rest of Mr. +Collier's remarks on the H.S. letter _relates_," etc. (_Ib_. p. 260.) +"_In_ the middle of this volume has been foisted." (_Ib_. p. 261.) We +shall not say that this is British English; but we willingly confess +that it is not American English. Such writing would not be tolerated in +the leading columns of any newspaper of reputation in this country; it +might creep in among the work of the second or third rate reporters.] + +And here we pause a moment to consider the temper in which this question +has been discussed among the British critics and editors. From the very +beginning, eight years ago, there have been manifestations of personal +animosity, indications of an eagerness to seize the opportunity of +venting long secreted venom. This has appeared as well in books as in +more ephemeral publications, and upon both sides, and even between +writers on the same side. On every hand there has been a most deplorable +impeachment of motive, accompanied by a detraction of character by +imputation which is quite shocking. Petty personal slights have been +insinuated as the ultimate cause of an expression of opinion upon an +important literary question, and testimony has been impeached and +judgment disparaged by covert allegations of disgraceful antecedent +conduct on the part of witnesses or critics. Indeed, at times there has +seemed reason to believe the London "Literary Gazette" (we quote from +memory) right in attributing this whole controversy to a quarrel which +has long existed in London, and which, having its origin in the alleged +abstraction of manuscripts from a Cambridge library by a Shakespearian +scholar, has made most of the British students of this department +of English letters more or less partisans on one side or the other. +Certainly the "Saturday Review" is correct, (in all but its English,) +when it says that in this controversy "a mere literary question and a +grave question of personal character are being awkwardly mixed together, +and neither question is being conducted in a style at all satisfactory +or creditable to literary men." + +Mr. Collier is told by Mr. Duffus Hardy that "he has no one to blame but +himself" for "the tone which has been adopted by those who differ from +him upon this matter," because he, (Mr. Collier,) by his answer in the +"Times" to Mr. Hamilton, made it "a personal, rather than a literary +question." But, we may ask, how is it possible for a man accused +of palming off a forgery upon the public to regard the question as +impersonal, even although it may not be alleged in specific terms that +he is the forger? Mr. Collier is like the frog in the fable. This +pelting with imputations of forgery may be very fine fun to the pelters, +but it is death to him. To them, indeed, it may be a mere question of +evidence and criticism; but to him it must, in any case, be one of vital +personal concern. Yet we cannot find any sufficient excuse for the +manner in which Mr. Collier has behaved in this affair from the very +beginning. His cause is damaged almost as much by his own conduct, and +by the tone of his defence, as by the attacks of his accusers. A very +strong argument against his complicity in any fraudulent proceeding +in relation to his folio might have been founded upon an untarnished +reputation, and a frank and manly attitude on his part; but, on the +contrary, his course has been such as to cast suspicion upon every +transaction with which he has been connected. + +First he says[C] that he bought this folio in 1849 to "complete another +poor copy of the seconde folio"; and in the next paragraph he adds, "As +it turned out, I at first repented my bargain, because when I took it +home, it appeared that two leaves which I wanted were unfit for my +purpose, not merely by being too short, but damaged and defaced." +And finally he says that it was not until the spring of 1850 that he +"observed some marks in the margin of this folio." Now did Mr. Collier, +by some mysterious instinct, light directly, first upon one of the +leaves, and then upon the other, which he wished to find, in a folio of +nine hundred pages? It is almost incredible that he did so once; that he +did so twice is quite beyond belief. It is equally incredible, that if +the textual changes were then upon the margins in the profusion in which +they now exist, he could have looked for the two leaves which he needed +without noticing and examining such a striking peculiarity. Clearly +those marginal readings must have been seen by Mr. Collier in his search +for the two leaves he needed, or they have been written since. Either +case is fatal to his reputation. His various accounts of his interviews +with Mr. Parry, who, it was thought, once owned the book, are +inconsistent with each other, and at variance with Mr. Parry's own +testimony, and the probabilities, not to say the possibilities, of the +case. He says, for instance, that he showed the folio to Mr. Parry; and +that Mr. Parry took it into his hand, examined it, and pronounced it the +volume he had once owned. But, on the contrary, Mr. Parry says that Mr. +Collier showed him no book; that he exhibited only fac-similes; that he +(Mr. Parry) was, on the occasion in question, unable to hold a book, as +his hands were occupied with two sticks, by the assistance of which he +was limping along the road. And on being shown Mr. Collier's folio at +the British Museum, Mr. Parry said that he never saw that volume before, +although he distinctly remembered the size and appearance of his own +folio; and the accuracy of his memory has been since entirely confirmed +by the discovery of a fly-leaf lost from his folio which conforms to +his description, and is of a notably different size and shape from the +leaves of the Collier folio.[D]--Mr. Collier has declared, in the most +positive and explicit manner, that he has "often gone over the thousands +of marks of all kinds" on the margins of his folio; and again, that he +has "reexamined every fine and letter"; and finally, that, to enable +"those interested in such matters" to "see _the entire body _in the +shortest form," he "appended them to the present volume [_Seven +Lectures_, etc.] in one column," etc. This column he calls, too, "A +List of _Every Manuscript Note and Emendation_ in Mr. Collier's Copy of +Shakespeare's Works, folio, 1632." Now Mr. Hamilton, having gone over +the margins of "Hamlet" in the folio, finds that Mr. Collier's published +list "_does not contain one-half_ of the corrections, many of the most +significant being among those omitted." He sustains his allegation by +publishing the results of the collation of "Hamlet," to which we shall +hereafter refer more particularly, when we shall see that the reason of +Mr. Collier's suppression of so large a portion of these alterations and +additions was, that their publication would have made the condemnation +of his folio swift and certain. We have here a distinct statement of +the thing that is not, and a manifest and sufficient motive for the +deception. + +[Footnote C: Notes and Emendations, p. vii.] + +[Footnote D: This volume is universally spoken of as the Perkins folio +by the British critics. But we preserve the designation under which it +is so widely known in America.] + +It has also been discovered that Mr. Collier has misrepresented the +contents of the postscript of a letter from Mistress Alleyn to her +husband, Edward Alleyn, the eminent actor of Shakespeare's day. This +letter was first published by Mr. Collier in his "Memoirs of Edward +Alleyn" in 1841, where he represents the following broken passage as +part of it:-- + +"Aboute a weeke a goe there came a youthe who said he was Mr Frauncis +Chaloner who would have borrowed X'li. to have bought things for ... and +_said he was known unto you and Mr Shakespeare of the globe, who came +... said he knewe hym not, onely he herde of hym that he was a roge... +so he was glade we did not lend him the monney ... Richard Johnes [went] +to seeke_ and inquire after the fellow," etc. + +The paper on which this postscript is written is very much decayed, +and has been broken and torn away by the accidents of time; but enough +remains to show that the passage in question stands thus,--the letters +in brackets being obliterated:-- + +"Aboute a weeke agoe ther[e] [cam]e a youthe who said he was || Mr. +Frauncis Chalo[ner]s man [& wou]ld have borrow[e]d x's.--to || have +bought things for [hi]s Mri[s]..... [tru]st hym || Cominge wthout... +token.... d ||I would have.... || [i]f I bene sue[r] ..... || and +inquire after the fellow," etc. + +The parallels || in the above paragraph indicate the divisions of the +lines in the original manuscript; and a moment's examination will +convince the reader that the existence of those words of Mr. Collier's +version which we have printed in Italic letter in the place to which he +assigns them is a physical impossibility, as Mr. Hamilton has clearly +shown.[E] And that the mention of Shakespeare, and what he said, was not +on a part of the letter which has been broken away, is made certain by +the fortunate preservation of enough of the lower margin to show that no +such passage could have been written upon it. + +[Footnote E: _An Inquiry_, etc., pp. 86-89. See also Ingleby's _Complete +View_, etc., pp. 279-288. Both Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby give +fac-similes of this important postscript.] + +Mr. Collier has also been convicted by Mr. Dyce of positive and +malicious misrepresentation in various passages of the Prolegomena and +Notes to his last edition of Shakespeare. (London, 1858, 6 vols.) The +misrepresentations refer so purely to matters of textual criticism, +and the exhibition of even one of them would involve the quotation of +passages so uninteresting to the general reader, that we shall ask him +to be content with our assurance that these disgraceful attempts to +injure a literary opponent and former friend assume severally the form +of direct misstatement, suppression of the truth, prevarication, +and cunning perversion; the manner and motive throughout being very +shabby.[F] The purpose of all these attacks upon Mr. Dyce is not only to +wound and disparage him, but to secure for the writer a reputation for +superior sagacity and antiquarian learning; and we regret that we are +obliged to close this part of our paper by saying that we find that the +same motive has led Mr. Collier into similar courses during a great part +of his literary career. It has been necessary for us to examine all +that he has written upon Shakespeare, and we have again and again +found ourselves misled into giving him temporary credit for a point +established or a fact discovered, when in truth this credit was due +to Malone or Chalmers or some other Shakespearian scholar of the past +century, and was sought to be appropriated by Mr. Collier, not through +direct misstatement, but by such an ingenious wording and construction +of sentences as would accomplish the purpose without absolute falsehood. +An instance of this kind of manoeuvring is brought to light in +connection with the investigations into the discovery and character of a +paper known as "The Players' Petition," which was first made public by +Mr. Collier in his "Annals of the Stage," (Vol. i. p. 298,) and which +has been pronounced a forgery. Of this he says, in his "Reply to Mr. +Hamilton," (p. 59,) "Mr. Lemon, Senior, _undoubtedly did_ bring the +'Players' Petition' under my notice, and very much obliged I was," etc. +Now Mr. Collier, in the "Annals of the Stage," after extended remarks +upon the importance of the document, merely says, "This remarkable paper +has, perhaps, never seen the light from the moment it was presented, +until it was recently discovered." No direct assertion here that Mr. +Collier discovered it, but a leading of the reader to infer that he did; +and not a word about Mr. Lemon's agency, until, upon the suggestion of +that gentleman's son, it is serviceable to Mr. Collier to remember it. +By reference to Mr. Grant White's "Shakespeare," Vol. ii. p. lx., an +instance may be seen of a positive misstatement by Mr. Collier, of +which, whatever the motive or the manner, the result is to deprive +Chalmers of a microscopic particle of antiquarian credit and to +bestow it upon himself. In fact, our confidence in Mr. Collier's +trustworthiness, which, diminished by discoveries like these, as our +knowledge of his labors increased, has been quite extinguished under the +accumulated evidence of either his moral obliquity or his intellectual +incapacity for truth. We can now accept from him, merely upon his word, +no statement as true by which he has anything to gain. + +[Footnote F: See Dyce's _Strictures_, etc., pp. 2, 22, 28, 35, 51, 54, +56, 57, 58, 70, 123, 127, 146, 168, 192, 203, 204.] + +The bad effect of what he does is increased by the manner in which he +seeks to shield himself from the consequences of his acts. He should +have said at once, "Let this matter be investigated, and here am I to +aid in the investigation," Soon after this folio was brought into public +notice, Mr. Charles Knight proposed that it should be submitted to a +palaeographic examination by gentlemen of acknowledged competence; but +so far was Mr. Collier from yielding to this suggestion, that we have +good reason for saying that it was not until after the volume passed, in +1859, into the hands of Sir Frederic Madden of the British Museum, +that the more eminent Shakespearian scholars in London had even an +opportunity to look at it closely.[G] The attacks upon the genuineness +of the writing on its margins Mr. Collier was at once too ready to +regard as impeachments of his personal integrity, and to shirk by making +counter-insinuations against the integrity of his opponents and the +correctness of their motives. He attributes to the pettiest personal +spite or jealousy the steps which they have taken in discharge of a duty +to the interests of literature and the literary guild, and at the risk +of their professional reputations, and then slinks back from his charges +with,--"I have been told this, but I don't believe it: this may be so, +but yet it cannot be: I did something that Mr. So-and-so's father did +not like, yet I wouldn't for a moment insinuate," etc., etc.[H] Then, +Mr. Collier, why do you insinuate? And what in any case do you gain? +Suppose the men who deny the good faith of your marginalia are the +small-souled creatures you would have us believe they are, they do not +make this denial upon their personal responsibility merely; they produce +facts. Meet those; and do not go about to make one right out of two +wrongs. Cease, too, this crawling upon your belly before the images of +dukes and carls and lord chief-justices; digest speedily the wine and +biscuits which a gentleman has brought to you in his library, and let +them pass away out of your memory. Let us have no more such sneaking +sentences as, "I have always striven to make myself as unobjectionable +as I could"; but stand up like a man and speak like a man, if you have +aught to say that is worth saying; and your noble patrons, no less than +the world at large, will have more faith in you, and more respect for +you. + +[Footnote G: Such hasty examinations as those which it must have +received at the Society of Antiquaries and the Shakespeare Society, +where Mr. Collier took it, are of little importance.] + +[Footnote H: See, for instance, "I have been told, but I do not believe +it, that Sir F. Madden and his colleagues were irritated by this piece +of supposed neglect; and that they also took it ill that I presented the +Perkins folio to the kindest, most condescending, and most liberal of +noblemen, instead of giving it to their institution." (_Reply_, p. 11.) +And see the same pamphlet and Mr. Collier's letters, _passim_.] + +But what has been established by the examination of Mr. Collier's folio +and the manuscripts which he has brought to light? These very important +points:-- + +The folio contains more than twice, nearly three times, as many marginal +readings, including stage-directions and changes of orthography, as are +enumerated in Mr. Collier's "List of Every," etc. + +The margins retain in numerous places the traces of +pencil-memorandums.[I] + +[Footnote I: This is finally admitted even by Mr. Collier's supporters. +The Edinburgh Reviewer says,--"But then the mysterious pencil-marks! +They are there, most undoubtedly, and in very great numbers too. The +natural surprise that they were not earlier detected is somewhat +diminished on inspection. Some say they have 'come out' more in the +course of years; whether this is possible we know not. But even now they +are hard to discover, until the eye has become used to the search. But +when it has,--especially with the use of a glass at first,--they become +perceptible enough, words, ticks, points, and all."] + +These pencil-memorandums are in some instances written in a modern +cursive hand, to which marginal readings in ink, written in an antique +hand, correspond. + +There are some pencil-memorandums to which no corresponding change in +ink has been made; and one of these is in short-hand of a system which +did not come into use until 1774.[J] + +[Footnote J: In _Coriolanus_, Act v. sc. 2, (p. 55, col. 2, of the C. +folio,) "struggles or instead noise,"--plainly a memorandum for a +stage-direction in regard to the impending fracas between Menenius and +the Guard.] + +These pencil-memorandums in some instances underlie the words in ink +which correspond to them. + +Similar modern pencil-writing, underlying in like manner antique-seeming +words in ink, has been discovered in the Bridgewater folio, (Lord +Ellesmere's,) the manuscript readings in which Mr. Collier was the first +to bring into notice. + +Some of the pencilled memorandums in the folio of 1632 seem to be +unmistakably in the handwriting of Mr. Collier.[K] + +[Footnote K: Having at hand some of Mr. Collier's own writing in pencil, +we are dependent as to this point, in regard to the pencillings in +the folio, only upon the accuracy of the fac-similes published by Mr. +Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby, which correspond in character, though made by +different fac-similists.] + +Several manuscripts, professing to be contemporary with Shakespeare, and +containing passages of interest in regard to him, or to the dramatic +affairs of his time, have been pronounced spurious by the highest +palaeographic authorities in England, and in one of them (a letter +addressed to Henslow, and bearing Marston's signature) a pencilled guide +for the ink, like those above mentioned, has been discovered. These +manuscripts were made public by Mr. Collier, who professed to have +discovered them chiefly in the Bridgewater and Dulwich collections. + +In his professed reprint of one manuscript (Mrs. Alleyn's letter) Mr. +Collier has inserted several lines relating to Shakespeare which could +not possibly have formed a part of the passage which he professes to +reprint. + +In the above enumeration we have not included the many complete and +partial erasures upon the margins of Mr. Collier's folio; because these, +although they are inconsistent with the authoritative introduction of +the manuscript readings, do not affect the question of the good faith of +the person who introduced those readings, or serve as any indication of +the period at which he did his work. But it must be confessed that +the points enumerated present a very strong, and, when regarded by +themselves, an apparently incontrovertible case against Mr. Collier and +the genuineness of the folios and the manuscripts which he has brought +to light. Combined with the evidence of his untrustworthiness, they +compel, even from us who examine the question without prejudice, the +unwilling admission that there can be no longer any doubt that he has +been concerned in bringing to public notice, under the prestige of his +name, a mass of manuscript matter of seeming antiquity and authority +much of which at least is spurious. We say, without prejudice; for +it cannot be too constantly kept in mind that the question of the +genuineness of the manuscript readings in Mr. Collier's folio--that is, +of the good faith in which they were written--has absolutely nothing +whatever to do with that of their value or authority, at least in our +judgment. Six years before the appearance of Mr. Hamilton's first letter +impeaching their genuineness, we had expressed the decided opinion that +they were "entitled to no other consideration than is due to their +intrinsic excellence";[L] and this opinion is now shared even by the +authority which gave them at first the fullest and most uncompromising +support.[M] + +[Footnote L: See _Putnam's Magazine_, October, 1853, and _Shakespeare's +Scholar_, 1854, p. 74.] + +[Footnote M: See the London _Athenaeum_ of January 8th, 1853:--"We +cannot hesitate to infer that there must have been _something more than +mere conjecture_,--some authority from which they were derived.... The +consideration of the nine omitted lines stirs up Mr. Collier to a little +greater boldness on the question of authority; but, after all, we do not +think he goes the full length which the facts would warrant." + +Compare this with the following extracts from the same journal of July +9th, 1859;--"The folio never had any ascertained external authority. +All the warrant it has ever brought to reasonable critics is internal." +"If anybody, in the heat of argument, ever claimed for them [the MS. +readings] a right of acceptance beyond the emendations of Theobald, +Malone, Dyce, and Singer, (that is, a right not justified by their +obvious utility or beauty,) such a claim must have been untenable, by +whomsoever urged."] + +Other points sought to be established against Mr. Collier and the +genuineness of his manuscript authorities must be noticed in an article +which aims at the presentation of a comprehensive view of this subject. +These are based on certain variations between Mr. Collier's statements +as to the readings of his manuscript authorities and a certain supposed +"philological" proof of the modern origin of one of those authorities, +the folio of 1632. Upon all these points the case of Mr. Collier's +accusers breaks down. It is found, for instance, that in the folio an +interpolated line in "Coriolanus," Act iii. sc. 2, reads,-- + +"To brook _controul_ without the use of anger," + +and that so Mr. Collier gave it in both editions of his "Notes and +Emendations," in his fac-similes made for private distribution, in his +vile one-volume Shakespeare, and in the "List," etc., appended to the +"Seven Lectures." But in his new edition of Shakespeare's Works (6 vols. +1858) he gives it,-- + +"To brook _reproof_ without the use of anger," + +and hereupon Dr. Ingleby asks,--"Is it not possible that here Mr. +Collier's remarkable memory is too retentive, and that, though second +thoughts may be best, first thoughts are sometimes inconveniently +remembered to the prejudice of the second?"[N] Here we see a palpable +slip of memory or of the pen, by which an old man substituted one word +for another of similar import, as many a younger man has done before +him, tortured into evidence of forgery. Such an objection is worthy of +notice only as an example of the carping, unjudicial spirit in which +this subject is treated by some of the British critics. + +[Footnote N: _The Shakespeare Fabrications_, p. 45.] + +Mr. Collier is accused at least of "inaccuracy" and "ignorance" on +account of some of these variations. Thus, in Mrs. Alleyn's Letter, she +says that a boy "would have borrowed x's." (ten shillings); and this Mr. +Collier reads "would have borrowed x'li." (ten pounds). Whereupon Mr. +Duffus Hardy, Assistant Keeper of the Public Records, produces this as +one of "the most striking" of Mr. Collier's inaccuracies in regard to +this letter, and says that it "certainly betrays no little ignorance, +as 10_l_. in those days would have equalled about 60_l_. of our present +money." "A strange youth," he adds, "calls on Mrs. Alleyn and asks the +loan of 10_l_. as coolly as he would ask for as many pence!" Let us +measure the extent of the ignorance shown by this inaccuracy, and +estimate its significance by a high standard. In one of the documents +which Mr. Collier has brought forward--an account by Sir Arthur +Mainwayring, auditor to Sir Thomas Egerton, in James I.'s reign, which +is pronounced to be a forgery, and which probably is one--is an entry +which mentions the performance of "Othello" in 1602. The second part of +this entry is,[O]-- + + "Rewards; to m'r. Lyllyes man w'ch } + brought y'e lotterye boxe to } + x's. Harefield: p m'r. Andr. Leigh." } + +[Footnote O: See the fac-simile in Dr. Ingleby's _Complete View_. p. +262.] + +Mr. Lyllye's man got ten shillings, then, for his job,--very princely +pay in those days. But Mr. Hardy[P] prints this entry,--"Rewarde to Mr. +Lillye's man, which brought the lotterye box to Harefield x'li."--ten +_pounds_!--the same sum that Mr. Collier made Mr. Chaloner's boy ask +of Mrs. Alleyn. In other words, according to Mr. Hardy, Sir Arthur +Mainwayring gave a serving-man, for carrying a box, ten pounds as coolly +as he would have given as many pence! Now, Mr. Hardy, "as 10_l_. in +those days would have equalled about 60_l_. of our present money," on +your honor and your palaeographical reputation, does it betray "no +little ignorance" to mistake, or, if you please, to misprint, 10's. for +ten 10'li.? If no, so much the better for poor Mr. Collier; but if ay, +is not the Department of Public Records likely to come to grief?[Q] + +[Footnote P: _A Review_, etc., p. 60.] + +[Footnote Q: We could point out numerous other similar failures and +errors in the publications in which Mr. Collier is attacked; but we +cannot spare time or space for these petty side-issues.] + +A very strong point has been made upon the alteration of "so eloquent as +a _chair_" to "so eloquent as a _cheer_" in Mr. Collier's folio. It is +maintained by Mr. Arthur Edmund Brae, and by Dr. Ingleby, that "cheer" +as a shout of "admirative applause" did not come into use until +the latter part of the last century. This is the much vaunted +philologico-chronological proof that the manuscript readings in that +folio are of very recent origin. Dr. Ingleby devotes twenty pages to +this single topic. Never was labor more entirely wasted. For the +result of it all is the establishment of these facts in regard to +"cheer":--that shouts of encouragement and applause were called "cheers" +as early, at least, as 1675, and that in the middle of the century +1500, if not before, "to cheer" meant to utter an audible expression of +applause. The first appears from the frequent use of the noun in the +Diary of Henry Teonge, a British Navy Chaplain, dated 1675-1679, by +which it appears that "three cheers" were given then, just as they are +now; the second, from a passage in Phaer's Translation of the "Aeneid," +published in 1558, in which "_Excipiunt plausu pavidos_" is rendered +"The Trojans them did _chere_." And now will it be believed that +an LL.D. of Trinity College, Cambridge, and a professed student of +Shakespeare, seeks to avoid the force of these facts by pleading, that, +although Teonge speaks of "three cheers," it does not follow that there +was such a thing known in his day as a cheer; that "three cheers" was +a recognized phrase for a certain naval salute; and that "to confound +_three cheers_ with _a cheer_ would be as ignorant a proceeding as +to confound the phrases 'manning the yards' and 'manning a +yard'"?--Exactly, Dr. Ingleby,--just as ignorant; but three times one +are three; and when one yard is manned the sailors have manned a yard, +and while they are a-doing it they are manning a yard. What did the +people call one-third of their salute in 1675? And are we to suppose +that they were never led to give "one more" cheer, as they do nowadays? +And have the LL.D.s of Cambridge--old Cambridge--yet to learn that the +compound always implies the preexistence of the simple, and that "a +cheer" is, by logical necessity, the antecedent of "three cheers"? +Can they fail to see, too, as "cheer" meant originally face, then +countenance, then comfort, encouragement, that, before it could be used +as a verb to mean the _expression_ of applause, it must have previously +been used as a noun to mean applause? And finally, has an intelligent +and learned student of Shakespeare read him so imperceptively as not to +know, that, if "cheer," or any other word, had been used in his time +only as a verb, he would not have hesitated a moment about using it as a +noun, if it suited his purpose to do so? That the original text in the +passage in question, "so eloquent as a chair," is correct, we have no +doubt; but the attempt to make the introduction of "cheer" into Mr. +Collier's folio a chronological test of the good faith of its MS. +readings has failed entirely. + +But Mr. Collier's accusers fall short of their aim upon other and no +less important points. It seems more than doubtful that the spuriousness +of all the marginal readings in the notorious folio and all the +documents brought forward by Mr. Collier has been established. Under +ordinary circumstances, when palaeographers like Sir Frederic Madden, +Sir Francis Palgrave, and Mr. Duffus Hardy, tell us that a manuscript, +professing to be ancient and original, is a modern fabrication, we +submit at once. A judgment pronounced by such experts commands the +unquestioning deference of laymen; unless, indeed, the doctors differ; +and then the humblest and most ignorant of us all must endeavor +to decide between them. And when a court, under extraordinary +circumstances,--and those of the present case are very extraordinary,-- +not only pronounces judgment, but feels compelled to assign the reasons +for that judgment, thinking men who are interested in the question under +consideration will examine the evidence and weigh the arguments for +themselves. + +In the present case reasons have been given by Sir Frederic Madden, Mr. +Hardy, and Dr. Ingleby, the chief-justice and two puisne judges of our +court. The first says, (in his letter of March 24th, 1860, to the London +"Critic,") that, on examining the folio with Mr. Bond, the Assistant +Keeper of his Department, they were both "struck with the very +suspicious character of the writing,"--certainly the work of one hand, +but presenting varieties of forms assignable to different periods,--the +evident painting of the letters, and the artificial look of the ink. + +Mr. Hardy speaks more explicitly to the same purpose; and we must quote +him at some length. He says,-- + +"The handwriting of the notes and alterations in the Devonshire folio +[Mr. Collier's] is of a mixed character, varying even in the same page, +from the stiff, labored Gothic hand of the sixteenth century to the +round text-hand of the nineteenth, a fact most perceptible in the +capital letters. It bears unequivocal marks also of laborious imitation +throughout. + +"In their broader characteristics, the features of the handwriting of +this country, from the time of the Reformation, may be arranged under +four epochs, sufficiently distinct to elucidate our argument:-- + +"1. The stiff upright Gothic of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. + +"2. The same, inclining and less stiff, as a greater amount of +correspondence demanded an easier style of writing, under Elizabeth. + +"3. The cursive, based on an Italian model, (the Gothic becoming more +flexible and now rapidly disappearing,) in the reign of James I., and +continuing in use for about a century. + +"4. The round hand of the schoolmaster, under the House of Hanover, +degenerating into the careless, half-formed hands of the present day. + +"Now it is perfectly possible that any two of these hands in succession +may have been practised by the same person.... That the first and third +or the second and fourth should be coexistent is very improbable. That +all, or that the first, second, and fourth, should be found together, as +belonging to one and the same era, we hold to be utterly impossible. + +"Yet this is a difficulty that Mr. Collier has to explain; as the +handwritings of the MS. corrections in the Devonshire folio, including +those in pencil, vary as already said, from the stiff, upright, +labored, and earlier Gothic, to the round text-hand of the nineteenth +century."[R] + +[Footnote R: A _Review_, etc., pp. 6, 7.] + +On this point Dr. Ingleby says, succinctly and decidedly, "The primal +evidence of the forgery lies in the ink writing, and in that alone";[S] +but he expressly bases this dictum upon the decisions of the professed +palaeographers of the British Museum and the Record Office. He goes on, +however, to assign important collateral proof of the forgery, both of +the readings in the folio and the documents brought forward by Mr. +Collier, by connecting them with each other. Thus he says, that whoever +will compare the fac-similes of the document known as "The Certificate +of the Blackfriars Players" with those which he gives of two passages in +the folio "will surely entertain no doubt that one hand wrote both."[T] +He expresses also the same confidence that "there can be but one +intelligent opinion" that another important document, known as "The +Blackfriars Petition," was, as Mr. Hamilton believes, "executed by the +same hand" as that to which we owe the Certificate, and, consequently, +the folio readings.[U] Again, with regard to another of these documents, +known as "The Daborne Warrant," Dr. Ingleby says,--"Mr. Hamilton +remarks, what must be plain to every one who compares the fac-simile +of the Daborne Warrant with those of the manuscript emendations in the +Perkins folio, that the same hand wrote both. In particular the +letters E, S, J, and C are formed in the same peculiar pseudo-antique +manner."[V] And finally, Mr. Hamilton decides, and Dr. Ingleby concurs +with him, that a certain List of Players appended to a letter from the +Council to the Lord Mayor, in which Shakespeare's name stands third, is +"done by the same hand" which produced the professed contemporary copy +of a letter signed H.S. about Burbage and Shakespeare, supposed to be +from the Earl of Southampton. Giving his reason for this opinion, Dr. +Ingleby says,--"Among other similarities in the forms of the letters +to those characterizing the H.S. letter, is the very remarkable _g_ in +'Hemminges'."[W] + +[Footnote S: A _Complete View_, p. 114.] + +[Footnote T: _Ib._ p. 250.] + +[Footnote U: _Ib._ p. 293.] + +[Footnote V: _Ib._ p. 256.] + +[Footnote W: _Ib._ p. 271.] + +Let us examine the alleged grounds of these decisions,--"the varieties +of forms assignable to different periods," and the extension of those +varieties "from the stiff, labored Gothic hand of the sixteenth century +to the round-text hand of the nineteenth." This judgment is passed upon +_all_ the writing on the margins of the folio, including the pencil +memorandums. For the present we shall set aside the latter,--the pencil +memorandums,--as not properly belonging to this branch of the subject. +For this pencil writing, although it has a most important bearing +upon the question of the good faith of the marginal readings, has no +professed character, antique or modern: it is, of course, not set forth +directly or indirectly, either by the unknown writer of the marginalia, +or by Mr. Collier, as evidence of the date at which they were made. And +as, according to Dr. Ingleby, "the primal evidence of the forgery lies +in the ink writing, and in that alone," with that alone we shall at +present concern ourselves. As the careless, half-formed hand of the +present day, degenerate from "the round hand of the school-master," +appears only in the pencil writing, we have therefore to deal but with +the first three styles of writing enumerated by Mr. Hardy; and as he +himself admits that "it is perfectly possible that any two of these +hands in succession may have been practised by the same person," if +those who maintain the side of forgery fail to show that "the stiff +upright Gothic of Henry VIII. and Edward VI." appears upon the margins +of this folio, we shall only have the second and third styles enumerated +by Mr. Hardy, i.e., the hands of Elizabeth and James I., to take into +consideration; and the so-called "primal evidence of the forgery," in +the "varieties of forms assignable to different periods," falls to the +ground. + +Now it is most remarkable, that, among all the numerous fac-similes +of the writing in this volume which have been published either by Mr. +Collier himself, or by his opponents, with the very purpose of proving +the forgery, not a word or a letter has appeared in a hand which was not +in common use from the latest years of Elizabeth's reign, through James +I.'s and Charles I.'s, down through the Commonwealth to and well past +the time of the Restoration,--a period, be it remembered, of only +between fifty and seventy-five years. We are prepared to show, upon +the backs of title-pages and upon the margins of various books printed +between 1580 and 1660, and in copy-books published and miscellaneous +documents dated between 1650 and 1675, writing as ancient in all its +characteristics as any that has been fac-similed and published with the +purpose of invalidating the genuineness of the marginal readings of Mr. +Collier's folio. + +We are also prepared to show that the lack of homogeneousness (aside +from the question of period or fashion) and the striking and various +appearance of the ink even on a single page, which have been relied upon +as strong points against the genuineness of the marginal readings, are +matters of little moment, because they are not evidence either of an +assumed hand or of simulated antiquity; and even further, that the fact +that certain of the pencilled words are in a much more modern-seeming +hand than the words in ink which overlie them is of equally small +importance in the consideration of this question. Our means of +comparison in regard to the folio are limited, indeed, but they are none +the less sufficient; for we may be sure that Mr. Collier's opponents, +who have followed his tracks page by page with microscopes and chemical +tests, who hang their case upon pot-hooks and trammels, and lash +themselves into palaeographic fury with the tails of remarkable _g_-s, +have certainly made public the strongest evidence against him that they +could discover. + +Among many old books, defaced after the fashion of old times with +writing upon their blank leaves and spaces, in the possession of the +present writer, is a copy of the second edition of Bartholomew Young's +translation of Guazzo's "Civile Conversation," London, 4to., 1586. This +volume was published without that running marginal abstract of the +contents which is so common upon the books of its period. This omission +an early possessor undertook to supply; and in doing so he left evidence +which forbids us to accept all the conclusions as to the Collier folio +and manuscripts which the British palaeographists draw from the premises +which they set forth. Upon the very first page of the Preface he writes, +in explanation of the phrase "hee which fired the temple of Diana," the +name "_Erostrato_" in a manner which brings to mind one point strongly +made by Dr. Ingleby against the genuineness of a Ralegh letter brought +forward by Mr. Collier, as well as of the manuscript readings in the two +folio Shakespeares, which he also brought to light. Dr. Ingleby says, +"I have given a copy of Mr. Collier's fac-simile in sheet No. II., +and alongside of that I have placed the impossible E in the Ralegh +signature, and the almost exactly similar E which occurs in the +emendation _End, vice_ 'And,' in the Bridgewater Folio. By means of this +monstrous letter we are enabled to trace the chain of forgery from the +Perkins Folio through the Bridgewater Folio, to the perpetration of the +abomination at the foot of the Ralegh letter."[X] + +[Footnote X: _Complete View_, p. 309.] + +Below we give fac-similes of six E-s. No. I is from the margin of the +first page of the Preface to Guazzo, mentioned above; No. 2 from the +third, and No. 3 from the fifth page of the same Preface; No. 4 from +fol. 27 _b_ of the body of the work; No. 5 is the "monstrous letter" +of the Bridgewater folio; and No. 6 the "impossible E" of the Ralegh +signature. + +[Illustration] + +Now how monstrous the last two letters are is a matter of taste,--how +impossible, a matter of knowledge; but we submit that any man with a +passable degree of either taste or knowledge is able to decide, and +will decide that No. 6 is not more impossible than No. 1, or No. 4 more +monstrous than No. 2; while in Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4, there is exhibited a +variation in the form of capital letters, instances of which Dr. Ingleby +intimates it is impossible to find in genuine handwriting, and the +existence of which in the Collier folio Mr. Hamilton sets forth as one +reason for invalidating the good faith of its marginal readings.[Y] + +[Footnote Y: Inquiry, p. 23.] + +But our copy of Guazzo is of further use to us in the examination of +this subject. It exhibits, within less than one hundred folios of +marginal annotations, almost all the characteristics (except, be it +remembered, those of the pencil writing) which are relied upon as proofs +of the forgery of the marginalia of Mr. Collier's folio. The writing +varies from a cursive hand which might almost have been written at the +present day to (in Mr. Duffus Hardy's phrase) "the cursive based on an +Italian model,"--that is, the "sweet Roman hand" which the Countess +Olivia wrote, as became a young woman of fashion when "Twelfth Night" +was produced; and from this again to the modified chancery hand which +was in such common use in the first half of the century 1600, and again +to a cramped and contracted chirography almost illegible, which went out +of general use in the last years of Elizabeth and the first of James I. +All these varieties of handwriting, except the last, were in use from +1600 to the Restoration. They will be found in the second edition of +Richard Gethinge's "Calligraphotechnia, or The Arte of Faire Writing, +1652." This, in spite of its sounding name, is nothing more than a +writing-master's copper-plate copy-book; and its republication in +1652, with these various styles of chirography, is important accessory +evidence in the present case.[Z] + +[Footnote Z: Lowndes mentions no other edition than that of 1652; and +Mr. Bohn in his new edition of the Bibliographer has merely repeated the +original in this respect. But if Lowndes had seen only the edition of +1652, he might have found in it evidence of the date of the publication +of the book. It is dedicated to "Sir Francis Bacon Knight, his Ma'ties +Attorney Generall"; and as Bacon was made Attorney General in 1613 and +Lord Keeper in 1617, the book must have been published between those +dates; and one of the plates, the 18th, is dated "Anno 1615," and +another, the 24th, "1616."] + +But to return to the margins of our Guazzo, from five pages of which we +here give fac-similes. + +[Illustration] + +The writer of the annotations began his work in that clear Italian hand +which came into vogue in the reign of James I., (see, for instance, +Gethinge, Plates 18 to 28,) of which fac-simile No. 1, "_Experience of +father_" is an example. In the course of the first few pages, however, +his chirography, on the one hand, shows traces of the old English +chancery-hand, and, on the other, degenerates into a careless, cursive, +modern-seeming style, of which fac-simile No. 2, "_England_," is a +striking instance. But he soon corrects himself, and writes for twenty +folios (to the recto of folio 27) with more or less care in his clear +Roman hand. Thence he begins to return rapidly, but by perceptible +degrees, to the old hand, until, on the recto of folio 31, and a page +or two before it, he writes, illegibly to most modern eyes, as in +fac-simile No. 3, "_a proverbe_." Thereafter, except upon certain rare +and isolated occasions, he never returns to his Italian hand, but +becomes more and more antique in his style, so that on folio 65, and for +ten folios before and after, we have such writing as that of fac-simile +No. 4, "_strangers where they come change the speech there used_." On +folios 93 to 95 we find characters like those given in fac-simile No. 5, +which it requires more experience than ours in record-reading entirely +to decipher. On the reverse of folio 95 the annotator, apparently weary +of his task, stayed his hand. + +Now in these ninety-nine folios (including the Preface, which is not +numbered) are not only all the five varieties of chirography fac-similed +above, but others partaking the character of some two of these, and +all manifestly written by the same hand; which is shown no less by the +phraseology than by the chirographic traits common to all the notes. And +besides, not a few of these notes, which fill the margins, are in +Latin, and these Latin notes are always written in the Italian hand of +fac-simile No. 1; so that we find that hand, in which all the notes, +English and Latin, (with a few exceptions, like "_England_,") are +written for the first twenty-seven folios, afterward in juxtaposition +with each of the other hands. For instance, on folio 87, recto, we find +"_tolerare laborem propter virtutem quis vult si praemia desunt_," +written in the style of "_Experience_" No. 1 above, though not so +carefully, and immediately beneath it, manifestly with the same pen, and +it would seem with the same pen-full of ink, "the saying of Galen," in +the style of No. 4, "_strangers where they come_," etc. + +The ink, too, in which these notes are written illustrates the shifts to +which our ancestors were put when writing-materials were not made and +bought by the quantity, as they are now,--a fact which bears against +a not yet well-established point made by Mr. Maskelyne of the British +Museum against Mr. Collier's marginalia. This writing exhibits every +possible variety of tint and of shade, and also of consistence and +composition, that ink called black could show. As far as the recto of +folio 12 it has the look of black ink slightly faded. On the reverse of +that folio it suddenly assumes a pale gray tint, which it preserves to +the recto of folio 20. There it becomes of a very dark rich brown, so +smooth in surface as almost to have a lustre, but in the course of a few +folios it changes to a pale tawny tint; again back to black, again +to gray, again to a fine clear black that might have been written +yesterday, and again to the pale tawny, with which it ends. It is also +worthy of notice, that, where this ink has the dark rich brown hue, it +also seems, in the words of Professor Maskelyne, in his letter to the +London "Times," dated July 13, 1859, to be "on rather than in the +paper"; and it also proved in this instance, to use the phraseology of +the same letter, to be "removable, with the exception of a slight stain, +by mere water." But who will draw hence the conclusion of the Professor +with regard to the fluid used on the Collier folio, that it is "a +water-color paint rather than ink,"--unless "ink" is used in a mere +technical sense, to mean only a compound of nutgalls and sulphate of +iron?[aa] + +[Footnote aa: The effect produced upon the brown ink on the margins of +the Guazzo by the mere washing it for a few seconds with lint and warm +water may be seen in the word "_apollegy_" on folio 25, reverse, of that +volume, which, with the others noticed in this article, will be left +for inspection at the Astor Library, in the care of Dr. Cogswell, for a +fortnight after the publication of this number of the _Atlantic_. This +slight ablution, hardly more effective than the rubbing of a child's wet +finger, leaves only a pale yellow stain upon the paper.] + +Now it should be observed, that, among all the fac-similes published of +the marginal readings in Mr. Collier's folio, there are none either +so modern or so antique in their character as the five fac-similes +respectively given above; nor is there in the former a variation of +style approaching that exhibited in the latter, which all surely +represent the work of one hand. Neither do the fac-similes of the folio +corrections exhibit any chirography more ancient, more "Gothic," than +that of the account a specimen of which was published in our previous +article upon this subject,[bb] and which could not have been written +before 1656, and was quite surely not written until ten years later. + +[Footnote bb: See the _Atlantic_ for October, 1859, p. 516.] + + * * * * * + +We have thus far left out of consideration the faint pencil-memorandums +which play so important a part in the history of Mr. Collier's folio. +We now examine one of their bearings upon the question at issue. Is it +possible that they, or any considerable proportion of them, may be +the traces of pencil-marks made in the century 1600? The very great +importance of this question need not be pointed out. It was first +indicated in this magazine in October, 1859. Mr. Collier has seen it, +and, not speaking with certainty as to the use of plumbago pencils at +that period, he says,--"But if it be true that pencils of plumbago were +at that time in common use, as I believe they were, the old corrector +may himself have now and then adopted this mode of recording on the +spot changes which, in his judgment, ought hereafter [thereafter?] +permanently to be made in Shakespeare's text."[cc] + +[Footnote cc: _Reply_, p. 20.] + +Another volume in the possession of the present writer affords +satisfactory evidence that these pencil-marks may be memorandums made in +the latter half of the century 1600. It is a copy of "The Historie of +the Life and Death of Mary Stuart Queene of Scotland," London, 1636,--a +small, narrow duodecimo, in the original binding. Upon the first one +hundred and sixty-nine pages of this volume, within the ruled margin so +common in old books, are annotations, very brief and sparse, rarely +more than two upon a page, and often not more than one, and consisting +sometimes of only two or three abbreviated words,--all evidently written +in haste, and all entirely without interest. These annotations, or, +rather, memorandums, like those in the Guazzo, explain or illustrate the +text. At the top of the page, within the margin-rules, the annotator has +written the year during which the events there related took place; and +he has also paged the Preface. Now of these annotations _about one half +are in pencil_, the numbering entirely so, with a single exception. This +pencil-writing is manifestly the product of a period within twenty-five +or thirty years of the date of the printing of the book, and yet it +presents apparent variations in style which are especially noteworthy in +connection with our present subject. Some of this pencil-writing is +as clear as if it were freshly written; but the greater part is much +rubbed, apparently by the mere service that the volume has seen; and +some of it is so faint as to be legible only in a high, reflected light, +in which, however, to sharp eyes it becomes distinctly visible.[dd] That +ordinary black pencil-marks will endure on paper for two centuries +may very likely be doubted by many readers, but without reason. +Plumbago-marks, if not removed by rubbing, are even more durable than +ink; because plumbago is an organic, insoluble substance, not subject +to the chemical changes which moisture, the atmosphere, and fluids +accidentally spilled, and solvents purposely applied, make in the +various kinds of ink which are known to us. The writer discovered this +in the course of many amateur print- and book-cleaning experiments, and +has since found his experience confirmed by the high authority of M. +Bonnardot, in his "Essai sur l'Art de Restaurer les Estampes et les +Livres." Paris, 1858.[ee] Of the annotations in the "History of Queen +Mary," many are in a strange short-hand, in which various combinations +of simple angles, triangles, circles, semicircles, and straight lines +play a conspicuous part, which we find, upon examination, is not written +according to any system promulgated since the middle of the last +century. Our present concern is, however, only with the writing which +is in the ordinary letter, and in pencil. Of this there follow three +specimen fac-similes, including the figures indicating the Anno Domini +at the top of the page from which the words are taken. Three of the +figures (4, 7, 8) by which the Preface is paged are also added.[ff] + +[Footnote dd: Some of our readers may be glad to know that writing so +faint as to be indistinguishable even in a bright open light may be +often read in the shadow with that very light reflected upon it, as, for +instance, from the opposite page of a book.] + +[Footnote ee: Mr. Bonnardot says:--"_Taches des crayons._ (_Plombagine, +sanguine, crayon noir_, etc.) Les traces _recentes_ que laissent sur le +papier ces divers crayons s'effacent au contact du caoutchouc, ou de la +mie de pain; mais, _quand elles sont trop anciennes, elles resistent a +ces moyens;_ on a recours alors a l'application du savon, etc., etc. +On frotte, etc., etc. S'il restait, apres cette operation, des traces +opiniatres sur le papier, _il faudrait desesperer les enlever_." p. 81.] + +[Footnote ff: By a common mistake, easily understood, the fac-similes +have been put upon the block in reverse order. The lines between the +words represent the coarse column-rules of the margins. (Illustration)] + +Of these, No. 1 ("_ffer Ph: 2_") explains that "the Emperour & the King +of Spaine" of the text are Ferdinand and Philip II.; No. 2 ("_ffr: 2 +death_") directs attention to the mention of the decease of Francis II. +of France; and No. 3 ("_Dudley Q Eliz great favorite_") is apropos of +a supposition by the author of the History that the Virgin Queen "had +assigned Dudley for her own husband." Of the pencil-writing fac-similed +above, the "1559" and the "_e_" in No. 1 and the "_Dudley_" in No. 8 are +so faint as to be almost indistinguishable; the rest of it, though very +much rubbed, is plain enough to those who have good eyes. As to the +period when these annotations were written, there can be no doubt that +it was between 1636 and the end of the third quarter of that century; +yet the difference between Nos. 1 and 2 and the last line of No. 8 is +very noticeable. There are many other words in pencil in the same volume +quite as modern-looking as "_favorite_" in No. 3. Does not this make it +clear that the pencil-writing on the margins of Mr. Collier's folio, the +greater part of which is so indistinct that to most eyes it is illegible +without the aid of a magnifying-glass, and of which not a few of the +most legible words are incomplete, may be the pencil-memorandums of a +man who entered these marginal readings in the century 1600? Who shall +undertake to say that pencil-writing so faint as to have its very +existence disputed, and which is written over so as to be partially +concealed, possesses a decided modern character, when such writing +as that of "_favorite_" above exists, both in pencil and in ink, the +production of which between 1636 and 1675 it would be the merest folly +to question? The possibility of the readings having been first entered +in pencil need not be discussed. It is not only probable that they would +be so entered, but that would be the method naturally adopted by a +corrector of any prudence, who had not an authoritative copy before him; +and that this corrector had such aid not one now pretends to believe. We +shall also find, farther on, that pencil-memorandums or guides, the good +faith of which no one pretends to gainsay, were used upon this volume. A +similar use of pencil is common enough nowadays. We know some writers, +who, when correcting their own proofs, always go over them with pencil +first, and on a second reading make the corrections, often with material +changes, in ink over the pencil-marks. Even letters are, or rather were, +written in this manner by young people in remote rural districts, where +an equal scarcity of money and paper made an economy of the latter +necessary,--a fact which would have a bearing upon the pencilled Marston +letter, but for one circumstance to be noticed hereafter. + +But one point, and that apparently the strongest, made against another +of Mr. Collier's MSS., we are able to set aside entirely. It is that +alleged identity of origin between the List of Players appended to the +letter from the Council to the Lord Mayor of London and the well-known +"Southampton" letter signed H.S., which is based upon an imagined +general similarity of hand and a positive identity of form in a certain +"very remarkable _g_" which is found in both.[gg] The general similarity +seems to us sheerly imaginary; but the _g_ common to the two documents +is undoubtedly somewhat unusual in form. That it is not peculiar to the +documents in question, however, whether they were written by one hand or +two, we happen to be in a position to show. _Ecce signum!_ + +[Footnote gg: See above, p. 266.] + +[Illustration] + +No. 1 of the above fac-similes is the _g_ of the H.S. letter, No. 2 the +_g_ of the List of Players, and in the name below is a _g_ of exactly +the same model. This name is written upon the last page of "The Table" +of a copy of Guevara's "Chronicle conteyning the lives of tenne +Emperours of Rome," translated by Edward Hellowes, London, 1577. This +book is bound up in ancient binding with copies of the "Familiar +Epistles" of the same writer, Englished by the same translator, 1582, +and of his "Familiar Epistles," translated by Geffrey Fenton, 1582. +The volume is defaced by little writing besides the names of three +possessors whose hands it passed through piecemeal or as a whole; but it +is remarkable, that, while one possessor has written on the first title +in ink the price which he paid for it, "_pr. 2s. 6d._," in a handwriting +like that of "_proverbe_" in the third fac-simile from Guazzo, on p. 268 +above, another has recorded _in pencil_ on the next leaf the amount it +cost him, "pr: 5s.," in a hand of perhaps somewhat later date, more in +the style of the fac-similes from the "Life of Queen Mary," on p. 271. +This pencil memorandum is very plain.[hh] It is worthy of special note +also, that one of the owners of this volume, a Simon Holdip, writes on +the last page of the "Lives of the Ten Emperors," the last in order +of binding, "_per me Simone Holdip in te domine speravi_" in the old +so-called chancery-hand, while on the first page of the Dedication +of the "Familiar Epistles," the first in order of binding, he writes +"_Simon Holdip est verus possessor hujus libri_," in as fair an Italian +hand as Richard Gethinge or the Countess Olivia herself could show. This +evidence of property a subsequent owner has stricken through many times +with his pen. In this volume we not only find the "remarkable _g_," the +tail of which is relied upon as a link in the chain of evidence to prove +the forgery of two documents, but yet another instance of the use of +dissimilar styles of writing by the same individual two hundred or two +hundred and fifty years ago, and also a well-preserved pencil memorandum +of the same period.[ii] But we have by no means disposed of all of this +question as to the pencil-writing, and we shall revert to it. + +[Footnote hh: It probably records the price paid by the buyer of the +whole volume at second-hand in the first part of the century 1600. +The first memorandum is quite surely the price paid for the _Familiar +Epistles_ alone; for on the binding of the three books into one volume, +which took place at an early date, the tops of the capital letters of +this possessor's name were slightly cut down.] + +[Footnote ii: Similar evidence must abound; and perhaps there is more +even within the reach of the writer of this article. For he has made +no particular search for it; but merely, after reading Dr. Ingleby's +_Complete View_, looked somewhat hastily through those of his old books +which, according to his recollection, contained old writing,--which, by +the way, has always recommended an antique volume to his attention.] + +That the writing of the "Certificate of the Blackfriars Players," the +"Blackfriars Petition," and the marginal readings in Mr. Collier's folio +shows that they are by the same hand we cannot see. Their chirography is +alike, it is true, but it is not the same. Such likeness is often to +be seen. The capital letters are formed on different models; and the +variation in the _f-s, s-s, d-s_, and _y-s_ is very noticeable. + + * * * * * + +We now turn to another, and, to say the least, not inferior department +of the evidence in this complicated case. Mr. Hamilton has done yeoman's +service by his collation and publication of all the manuscript readings +found on the margins of "Hamlet" in Mr. Collier's folio. It is by far +the most important part of his "Inquiry." It fixes indelibly the stigma +of entire untrustworthiness upon Mr. Collier, by showing, that, when he +professed, after many examinations, to give a list of all the marginal +readings in that folio, he did not, in this play at least, give much +more than one-third of them, and that some of those which he omitted +were even more striking than those which he published. We must be as +brief as possible; and we shall therefore bring forward but one example +of these multitudinous sins against truth; and one is as fatal as a +dozen. In the last scene of the play, Horatio's last speech (spoken, it +will be remembered, after the death of the principal characters and the +entrance of Fortinbras) is correctly as follows, according to the text +both of the folios and the quartos:-- + + "Of that I shall have also cause to speak; + And from his mouth, whose voice will draw on more: + But let this same be presently perform'd, + Even while men's minds are wild, lest more mischance, + On plots and errors, happen." + +But in Mr. Collier's folio it is "corrected" after this astounding +fashion:-- + + "Of that I shall have also cause to speak, + And from his mouth, whose voice shall draw on more. + But let this _scene_ be presently perform'd, + _While I remaine behind to tell a tale + That shall hereafter turn the hearers pale_." + +Now, while Mr. Collier publishes the specious change of "this same" to +"this _scene_" he entirely passes over the substitution of two whole +lines immediately below. And who needs to be told why? Mr. Collier could +have the face and the folly to bring forward other priceless additions +of whole lines, even, in "Henry VI,"-- + + "My staff! Here, noble Henry, is my staff: + _To think I fain would keep it makes me + laugh_,"-- + +but he had judgment enough to see, that, if it were known that his +corrector had foisted the two lines in Italic letter above into the most +solemn scene in "Hamlet," the whole round world would ring with scornful +laughter. This collation of "Hamlet" has not only extinguished Mr. +Collier as a man of veracity, but it has given the _coup de grace_ to +any pretence of deference due to these marginal readings on any score. +But it has done something else. It has brought facts to light which in +themselves are inconsistent with the supposition that Mr. Collier or any +other man forged all these marginal readings,--that is, wrote them in +a pretended antique character,--and which, taken in connection with +the evidence that we have already examined, settles this part of the +question forever. + +The number of marginal alterations in this play, according to Dr. +Ingleby's count, which we believe is correct, is four hundred and +twenty-six. Now for how many of this number does the reader suppose +that the sharp eyes and the microscopes of the British Museum and its +unofficial aids have discovered the relics of pencil memorandums? +Exactly ten,--as any one may see by examining Mr. Hamilton's collation. +Of these ten, three are for punctuation,--the substitution of a period +for a semicolon, the introduction of three commas, and the substitution +of an interrogation point for a comma; the punctuation being of not the +slightest service in either case, as the sense is as clear as noonday +in all. Two are for the introduction of stage-directions in Act I., +Sc. 3,--"_Chambers_," and, on the entrance of the Ghost, "_armed as +before_"; neither of which, again, added anything to the knowledge of +the modern reader. This leaves but five pencil memorandums of changes in +the text; and they, with two exceptions, are the mere adding of letters +not necessary to the sense. + +Of these four hundred and twenty-six marginal changes, a very large +proportion, quite one-half, and we should think more, are mere +insignificant literal changes or additions, such as an editor in +supervising manuscript, or an author in reading proof, passes over, and +leaves to the proof-readers of the printing-office, by whom they are +called "literals," we believe. Such are the change of "_Whon_ yond +same starre" to "_When_ yond," etc.; "_Looke_ it not like the king" to +"_Lookes_ it," etc.; "He _smot_ the sledded Polax" to "He _smote_," +etc.; "_Heaven_ will direct it" to "_Heavens_ will," etc.; "list, +_Hamle_, list," to "list, _Hamlet_, list"; "the _Mornings_ Ayre" to +"the _Morning_ Ayre"; "My Liege and _Madrm_" to "My Liege and _Madam_"; +"_locke_ of Wit" to "_lacke_ of Wit"; "both our _judgement_ joyne" +to "both our _judgements_ joyne"; "my _convseration_" to "my +_conversation_"; "the _strucken_ Deere" to "the _stricken_ Deere"; +"_Requit_ him for your Father" to "_Requite_ him," etc.; "I'll _anoiot_ +my sword" to "I'll _anoint_" etc.; "the _gringding_ of the Axe" to "the +_grinding_" etc. To corrections like these the alleged forger must +have devoted more than half his time; and if the thirty-one pages that +"Hamlet" fills in the folio furnish us a fair sample of the whole of +the forger's labors,[jj] we have the enormous sum of six thousand four +hundred, and over, of such utterly useless changes upon the nine hundred +pages of that volume. Such another laborious scoundrel, who labored for +the labor's sake, the world surely never saw! + +[Footnote jj: Dr. Ingleby says,--"The collations of that single play are +a perfect picture of the contents of the original, and a just sample of +the other plays in that volume."--_Complete View_, p. 131.] + +But among these marginal changes in "Hamlet," a large number present +a very striking and significant peculiarity,--a peculiarity which was +noticed in our previous article as characterizing other marginal changes +in the same volume, and which it is impossible to reconcile with the +purpose of a forger who knew enough to make the body of the corrections +on these margins, and who meant to obtain authority for them as being, +in the words of Mr. Collier, "Early Manuscript Corrections in the Folio +of 1632." That peculiarity is a _modernization of the text absolutely +fatal to the "early" pretensions of the readings;_ and it appears in the +regulation of the loose spelling prevalent at the publication of this +folio, and for many years after, by the standard of the more regular +and approximately analogous fashion of a later period, and also in the +establishment of grammatical concords, which, entirely disregarded in +the former period, were observed by well-educated people in the latter. + +Thus we find "He _smot_" changed to "He _smote_"; "Some _sayes_" to +"Some _say_"; "_veyled_ lids" to "_vayled_ lids"; "_Seemes_ to me all +the uses" to "_Seem_ to me all the uses"; "It lifted up _it_ head" to +"It lifted up _its_ head"; "_dreins_ his draughts" to "_drains_ his +draughts"; "fast in _fiers_" to "fast in _fires_"; "a _vild_ phrase, +beautified is a _vild_ phrase," to "a _vile_ phrase, beautified is a +_vile_ phrase"; "How in my words _somever_ she be shent" to "How in my +words _soever_," etc.; "_currants_ of this world" to "_currents_," etc.; +"theres _matters_" to "theres _matter_"; "like some _oare_" to "like +some _ore_"; "this _vilde_ deed" to "this _vile_ deed"; "a sword +_unbaited_" to "a sword _unbated_"; "a _stoape_ liquor" to "a _stoop_ +liquor"; and "the _stopes_ of wine" to "the _stoopes_ of wine." Of +corrections like these we have discovered twenty-eight among the +collations of "Hamlet" alone, and there are probably more. We may safely +assume that in this respect "Hamlet" fairly represents the other plays +in Mr. Collier's folio; for we have not only Dr. Ingleby's assurance +that it is a "just sample" of the volume, but in the four octavo sheets +of fac-similes privately printed by Mr. Collier we find these instances +of like corrections: "_Betide_ to any creature" to "_Betid_," etc.; +"_Wreaking_ as little" to "_Wrecking_ as little"; "painted _cloathes_" +to "painted _clothes_"; "words that _shakes_" to "words that _shake_." +Twenty-eight such corrections for the thirty-one pages of "Hamlet" give +us about eight hundred and fifty for the nine hundred pages of the whole +volume,--eight hundred and fifty instances in which the alleged forger, +who wished to obtain for his supposed fabrication the consideration due +to antiquity, modernized the text, though he obtained thereby only a +change of form, and not a single new reading, in any sense of the term! + +We turn to kindred evidence in the stage-directions. In "Love's Labor's +Lost," Act IV., Sc. 3, when Birone conceals himself from the King, the +stage-direction in the folio of 1632, as well as in that of 1623, is +"_He stands aside_." But in Mr. Collier's folio of 1632 this is changed +to "_He climbs a tree_," and he is afterward directed to speak "_in the +tree_." So again in "Much Ado about Nothing," Act II., Sc. 3, there is a +MS. stage-direction to the effect that Benedick, when he hides "in the +arbour," "_Retires behind the trees_." Now as this use of scenery +did not obtain until after the Restoration, these stage-directions +manifestly could not have been written until after that period. Upon +this point--which was first made in "Putnam's Magazine" for October, +1853, in the article "The Text of Shakespeare: Mr. Collier's Corrected +Folio of 1632,"--Mr. Halliwell says (fol. Shak. Vol. IV. p. 340) that +the writer of that article "fairly adduces these MS. directions as +incontestable evidences of the late period of the writing in that +volume, 'practicable' trees certainly not having been introduced on the +English stage until after the Restoration." See, too, in the following +passage from "The Noble Stranger," by Lewis Sharpe, London, 1640, direct +evidence as to the stage customs in London, eight years after the +publication of Mr. Collier's folio, in situations like those of Birone +and Benedick:-- + + "I am resolv'd, I over- + Heard them in the presence appoynt to walke + Here in the garden: now in _yon thicket + I'll stay_," etc. + + "_Exit behind the Arras_." + +But no man in the world knows the ancient customs of the English stage +better than Mr. Collier,--we may even say, so well, and pay no undue +compliment to the historian of that stage;[kk] and though he might +easily, in the eagerness of discovery, overlook the bearing of such +stage-directions as those in question, will it be believed, by any one +not brimful of blinding prejudice, that, in attempting the imposition +with which he is charged, and in forging in a copy of the folio of 1632 +notes and emendations for which he claimed deference because they were, +in his own words, "in a handwriting not much later than the time when it +came from the press," he deliberately wrote in these stage-directions, +which in any case added nothing to the reader's information, and which +he, of all men, knew would prove that his volume was not entitled to the +credit he was laboring to obtain for it? + +[Footnote kk: _The History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of +Shakespeare: and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration_. By J. Payne +Collier, Esq., F.S.A. 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1831.] + +Again, Mr. Hamilton's collations of "Hamlet" show that no less than +thirty-six passages have been erased from that play in this folio. These +erased passages are from a few insignificant words to fifty lines in +extent They include lines like these in Act I., Sc. 2:-- + + "With one auspicious and one dropping eye, + With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in + marriage,"-- + +and these from the same scene:-- + + "It shows a will most incorrect to heaven; + A heart unfortified, or mind impatient; + An understanding simple and unschool'd: + For what we know must be, and is as common + As any the most vulgar thing to sense, + Why should we, in our peevish opposition, + Take it to heart? Fie! 't is a fault to heaven, + A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, + To reason most absurd; whose common theme + Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, + From the first corse, till he that died to-day, + This must be so." + +In the last scene, all after Horatio's speech; "Now cracks a noble +heart," etc., is struck out. Who will believe that any man in his +senses, making corrections for which he meant to claim the deference +due to a higher authority than the printed test, would make such and so +numerous erasures? In fact, no one does so believe. + +But the collations of "Hamlet" furnish in these erasures one other very +important piece of evidence. In Act II., Sc. 1, the passage from and +including Reynaldo's speech, "As gaming, my Lord," to his other speech, +"Ay, my Lord, I would know that," is crossed out. But the lines are not +only crossed through in ink, they are "also marked in pencil." Now it +is confessed by the accusers of Mr. Collier that these erasures are the +marks of an ancient adaptation of the text to stage purposes, which were +made before the marginal corrections of the text; otherwise they must +needs have maintained the preposterous position just above set forth. +And besides, it is admitted, that, in the numerous passages which are +both erased and corrected, the work itself shows that the corrections +were made upon the erasures, and not the erasures upon the corrections. +We have, therefore, here, upon the very pages of this folio, evidence +that alterations in pencil not only might have been, but were, made upon +it at an early period, even in regard to so very slight a matter as the +crossing out of fourteen lines; and that these pencilled lines served as +a guide for the subsequent permanent erasure in ink. + +And this collation of "Hamlet" also enables us to decide with +approximate certainty upon the period when these manuscript readings +were entered upon the margins of the folio. Not more surely did the +lacking aspirate betray the Ephraimite at Jordan than the spelling of +this manuscript corrector reveals the period at which he performed his +labors. Take, for instance, the word "vile." Any man who could make the +body of these corrections knows that the most common spelling of "vile" +down to the middle of the century 1600 was _vild_ or _vilde_. This +spelling has even been retained in the text by some editors, and with at +least a semblance of reason, as being not a mere variation in spelling, +but as representing a different form of the word. No man knows all this +better than Mr. Collier; and yet we are called upon to believe that he, +meaning to obtain authoritative position for the marginal readings in +this folio, by making them appear to have been written by a contemporary +of Shakespeare's later years, altered _vild_ to _vile_ in three passages +of a single play, though he thereby made not the slightest shade of +difference in the meaning of the passage! And the same demand is made +upon our credulity in regard to the eight hundred and fifty similar +instances! Sir Frederic Madden, Mr. Duffus Hardy, Mr. Hamilton, +Dr. Ingleby, accomplished palaeographers, keen-eyed, remorseless +investigators, learned doctors though you be, you cannot make men who +have common sense believe this. Your tests, your sharp eyes, and your +optical aids, even that dreadful "microscope bearing the imposing and +scientific name of the Simonides Uranius," which carried such terror to +the heart of Mr. Collier, will fail to convince the world that he spent +hour after hour and day after day in labors the only purpose of which +was directly at war with that which you attribute to him, and which, if +he made these manuscript corrections, must have been the motive of his +labors. + +But if Mr. Collier, or some other man of this century, did not make +these orthographical changes, when were they made? Let us trace the +fortunes of _vile_, which is a good test word, as being characteristic, +and as it occurs several times in "Hamlet," and is there thrice +modernized by the manuscript corrector. It occurs five times in that +play, as the reader may see by referring to Mrs. Clarke's "Concordance." +In the folio of 1623, in all these cases, except the first, it is +spelled _vild_; in the folio of 1632, with the same exception, we also +find _vild_; even in the folio of 1664[ll] the spelling in all these +instances remains unchanged; but in the folio of 1685, _vild_ gives +place to _vile_ in every case. As with "vild," so with the other words +subjected to like changes. To make a long story short, the spelling +throughout the marginal readings of this folio, judged by the numerous +fac-similes and collations that have been published, indicates the close +of the last quarter of the century 1600 as the period about which the +volume in which they appear was subjected to correction. The careful +removal (though with some oversights) of those irregularities and +anomalies of spelling which were common before the Restoration, and the +harmonizing of grammatical discords which were disregarded before that +period, and, on the other hand, the retention of the superfluous final +_e_, (once the _e_ of prolongation,) and of the _l_ in the contractions +of "would," in accordance with a pronunciation which prevailed in +England until 1700 and later, all point to this date, which is also +indicated by various other internal proofs to which attention has been +heretofore sufficiently directed.[mm] The punctuation, too, which, +as Mr. Collier announced in "Notes and Emendations," etc., 1853, is +corrected "with nicety and patience," is that of the books printed after +the Restoration, as may be seen by a comparison of Mr. Collier's private +fac-similes and the collations of "Hamlet" in Mr. Hamilton's book with +the original editions of poems and plays printed between 1660 and 1675. + +[Footnote ll: Or 1663, according to the title-pages of some copies that +we have seen.] + +[Footnote mm: See _Shakespeare's Scholar_, pp. 56-62. And to the +passages noticed there, add this: In _King Henry VI_., Part II., Act +IV., Sc. 5, is this couplet:-- + + "Fight for your King, your country, and your lives. + And so farewell; for I must hence again." + +The last line of which in Mr. Collier's folio is changed to + + "And so farewell; _Rebellion never thrives_." + +Plainly this was written when Charlie was no longer over the water.] + +From the foregoing examination of the evidence upon this most +interesting question, it appears, we venture to assume, that the +conclusions drawn by Mr. Collier's opponents as to the existence of +primal evidence of forgery in the ink writing alone in his folio are not +sustained by the premises which are brought forward in their support. It +seems also clear, that, to say the least, it is not safe to assume that +all the pencil memorandums which appear upon the margins of that +volume as guides for the corrections in ink are proofs of the spurious +character of those corrections; but that, on the contrary, those +pencil-marks, with certain exceptions, may be the faint vestiges of the +work of a corrector who lived between 1632 and 1675, and who entered his +readings in pencil before finally completing them in ink. We have found, +too, that this volume, for the manuscript readings in which the alleged +forger claimed an authority based upon the early date at which they were +written, presents upon its every page changes in phraseology, grammar, +orthography, and punctuation, which, utterly useless for a forger's +purpose, could not have been made before a late period in the century +1600. Now when, in view of these facts, we consider that the man who is +accused of committing this forgery is a professed literary antiquary, +who, at the time when he brought forward this folio, (in 1852,) had been +engaged in the minute study of the text of old plays and poems for more +than thirty years,[nn] can we hesitate in pronouncing a verdict of not +guilty of the offence as charged? It is as manifest as the sun in +the heavens that Mr. Collier is not the writer of the mass of the +corrections in this folio. It is morally impossible that he should have +made them; and, on the other hand, the physical evidence which is relied +upon by his accusers breaks down upon examination. + +[Footnote nn: _The Poetical Decameron, or Ten Conversations on English +Poets and Poetry, particularly of the Reigns of Elizabeth and James I._ +London, 1820.] + + * * * * * + +But the modern cursive pencil-writing!--for you see that it is this +cursive writing that damns this folio,--what story does that tell? +What is its character? Who wrote it? Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby have +answered these questions by the publication of between twenty and thirty +fac-similes of this pencil-writing, consisting in only five instances of +more than a single word, letter, or mark. But these are undeniably the +work of a modern hand,--a hand of this century, as may be seen by the +following reproductions of two of the fac-similes:-- + +[Illustration: Handwriting sample.] + +The upper one represents the stage-direction in ink, with its +accompanying pencil-memorandum, for an _aside_ speech in "King +John," Act II., Sc. 1,--doubtless that of Faulconbridge,--"O prudent +discipline," etc. This is reproduced from a fac-simile published by Dr. +Ingleby. Mr. Hamilton has given a fac-simile of the same words; but Dr. +Ingleby says that his is the more accurate. The lower memorandum is a +pencilled word, "_begging_" opposite the line in "Hamlet," Act III., Sc. +2, "And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee," to which there is no +corresponding word in ink. Both these words are manifestly not examples +of an ancient cursive hand, like those of which fac-similes are given +above, but of rapid pencil-writing of the present century. They fairly +represent the character of all the fac-similes of words in pencil, with +two exceptions, which Mr. Hamilton and Dr. Ingleby have published. But +the question as to their origin can be brought down to a narrower point. +For not only does competent testimony from London assure us that Mr. +Collier's handwriting and that of these pencil-memorandums is identical, +but, having some of that gentleman's writing in pencil by us, we are +able to see this identity for ourselves. We can discover not the +slightest room for doubt that a certain number of the pencil-guides for +the corrections upon the margins of this folio were written either by +Mr. Collier himself, or in the British Museum by some malicious +person who desired to inculpate him in a forgery. The reader who has +accompanied us thus far can have no doubt as to which alternative we +feel compelled to choose. The indications of the pencilled words +in modern cursive writing are strengthened by the short-hand +stage-direction in "Coriolanus," Act V., Sc. 2, "Struggles or instead +noise," in the characters of Palmer's system, which was promulgated in +1774. This system is one which a man of Mr. Collier's years would be +likely to use, and the purport of the memorandum is obvious. Would Mr. +Collier have us believe that this also was introduced in the British +Museum? + +We have chosen the word "begging" for fac-simile not merely because of +the marked character of its chirography. It has other significance. Mr. +Collier asks, "What is gained by it?" and says, that, as there is no +corresponding change in the text, "'begging' must have been written in +the margin ... merely as an explanation, and a bad explanation, too, if +it refer to 'pregnant' in the poet's text."[oo] It is, of course, no +explanation; but it seems plainly that it is the memorandum for a +proposed, but abandoned, substitution. Who that is familiar with the +corrections in Mr. Collier's folio does not recognize this as one of +those which have been so felicitously described by an American critic as +taking "the fire out of the poetry, the fine tissue out of the thought, +and the ancient flavor and aroma out of the language"?[pp] The corrector +in this case plainly thought of reading, + + "And crook the begging hinges of the knee"; + +but, doubtful as to this at first, (for we regard the +interrogation-point as a query to himself, and not as indicating the +insertion of that point after "Dost thou hear,") he finally came to the +conclusion, that, although he, and many a respectable poet, might have +written "begging" in this passage, Shakespeare was just the man to write +"pregnant,"--an instance of critical sagacity of which he has left us +few examples. Now it is remarkable that the majority of the changes +proposed by Mr. Collier in the notes to this edition of Shakespeare +(8 vols., 8vo., 1842-3) evince a capacity for the apprehension of +figurative language and for conjectural emendation of the very calibre +indicated by this proposed change of "pregnant hinges" to "_begging_ +hinges." He has throughout his literary career, which began, we believe, +with the publication of the "Poetical Decameron," in 1820, shown +rather the faithfulness, the patience, and the judgment of a literary +antiquary, than the insight, the powers of comparison, the sensibility, +and the constructive ingenuity of a literary critic. And one of the +great improbabilities against his authorship of all the corrections in +his folio is, that it is not according to Nature that so late in life he +should develop the constructive ability necessary for the production +of many of its specious and ingenious, though inadmissible, original +readings. + +[Footnote oo: _Reply_, p. 22.] + +[Footnote pp: Rev. N.L. Frothingham, D.D., in the _Christian Examiner_ +for November, 1853.] + +We see, then, no way of avoiding the conclusion that this notorious +folio was first submitted to erasure for stage purposes; that afterward, +at some time between 1650 and 1675, it was carefully corrected for +the press with the view to the publication of a new edition; and that +finally it fell into the hands of Mr. Collier, who, either alone or by +the aid of an accomplice, introduced other readings upon its margins, +for the purpose of obtaining for them the same deference which he +supposed those already there would receive for their antiquity. +Either this is true, or Mr. Collier is the victim of a mysterious +and marvellously successful conspiracy; and by his own unwise and +unaccountable conduct--to use no harsher terms--has aided the plans of +his enemies. + +Mr. Collier's position in this affair is, in any case, a most singular +and unenviable one. His discoveries, considering their nature and +extent and the quarters in which they were made, are exceedingly +suspicious:--the Ellesmere folio, the Bridgewater House documents, +including the Southampton letter, the Dulwich College documents, +including the Alleyn letter, the Petition of the Blackfriars Company +in the State Paper Office, and the various other letters, petitions, +accounts, and copies of verses, all of which are justly open to +suspicion of tampering, if not of forgery. What a strange and +unaccountable fortune to befall one man! How has this happened? What +fiend has followed Mr. Collier through the later years of his life, +putting manuscripts under his pillow and folios into his pew, and so +luring him on to moral suicide? Alas! there is probably but one man +now living that can tell us, and he will not. But this protracted +controversy, which has left so much unsettled, has greatly served the +cause of literature, in showing that by whomsoever and whensoever these +marginal readings, which so took the world by storm nine years ago, were +written, they have no pretence to any authority whatever, not even +the quasi authority of an antiquity which would bring them within the +post-Shakespearian period. All must now see, what a few at first saw, +that their claim to consideration rests upon their intrinsic merit only. +But what that merit is, we fear will be disputed until the arrival of +that ever-receding Shakespearian millenium when the editors shall no +longer rage or the commentators imagine a vain thing. + + * * * * * + + +THE BATH. + + + Off, fetters of the falser life,-- + Weeds that conceal the statue's form! + This silent world with truth is rife, + This wooing air is warm. + + Now fall the thin disguises, planned + For men too weak to walk unblamed; + Naked beside the sea I stand,-- + Naked, and not ashamed. + + Where yonder dancing billows dip, + Far-off, to ocean's misty verge, + Ploughs Morning, like a full-sailed ship, + The Orient's cloudy surge. + + With spray of scarlet fire before + The ruffled gold that round her dies, + She sails above the sleeping shore, + Across the waking skies. + + The dewy beach beneath her glows; + A pencilled beam, the light-house burns: + Full-breathed, the fragrant sea-wind blows,-- + Life to the world returns! + + I stand, a spirit newly born, + White-limbed and pure, and strong, and fair,-- + The first-begotten son of Morn, + The nursling of the air! + + There, in a heap, the masks of Earth, + The cares, the sins, the griefs, are thrown + Complete, as, through diviner birth, + I walk the sands alone. + + With downy hands the winds caress, + With frothy lips the amorous sea, + As welcoming the nakedness + Of vanished gods, in me. + + Along the ridged and sloping sand, + Where headlands clasp the crescent cove, + A shining spirit of the land, + A snowy shape, I move: + + Or, plunged in hollow-rolling brine, + In emerald cradles rocked and swung, + The sceptre of the sea is mine, + And mine his endless song. + + For Earth with primal dew is wet, + Her long-lost child to rebaptize: + Her fresh, immortal Edens yet + Their Adam recognize. + + Her ancient freedom is his fee; + Her ancient beauty is his dower: + She bares her ample breasts, that he + May suck the milk of power. + + Press on, ye hounds of life, that lurk + So close, to seize your harried prey! + Ye fiends of Custom, Gold, and Work, + I hear your distant bay! + + And like the Arab, when he bears + To the insulted camel's path + His garment, which the camel tears, + And straight forgets his wrath; + + So, yonder badges of your sway, + Life's paltry husks, to you I give: + Fall on, and in your blindness say, + We hold the fugitive! + + But leave to me this brief escape + To simple manhood, pure and free,-- + A child of God, in God's own shape, + Between the land and sea! + + + + +SACCHARISSA MELLASYS. + + +I. + +THE HERO. + + +When I state that my name is A. Bratley Chylde, I presume that I am +already sufficiently introduced. + +My patronymic establishes my fashionable position. Chylde, the +distinguished monosyllable, is a card of admission everywhere,-- +everywhere that is anywhere. + +And my matronymic, Bratley, should have established my financial +position for life. It should have--allow me a vulgar term--"indorsed" me +with the tradesmen who have the honor to supply me with the glove, the +boot, the general habiliment, and all the requisites of an elegant +appearance upon the carpet or the _trottoir_. + +But, alas! I am not so indorsed--pardon the mercantile aroma of the +word--by the name Bratley. + +The late Mr. A. Bratley, my grandfather, was indeed one of those rude, +laborious, and serviceable persons whose office is to make money--or +perhaps I should say to accumulate the means of enjoyment--for the upper +classes of society. + +But my father, the late Mr. Harold Chylde, had gentlemanly tastes. + +How can I blame him? I have the same. + +He loved to guide the rapid steed along the avenue. + +I also love to guide the rapid steed. + +He could not persuade his delicate lungs--pardon my seeming knowledge of +anatomy--to tolerate the confined air in offices, counting-houses, banks, +or other haunts of persons whose want of refinement of taste impels them +to the crude distractions of business-life. + +I have the same delicacy of constitution. Indeed, unless the atmosphere +I breathe is rendered slightly narcotic by the smoke of Cabanas and +slightly stimulating by the savor of heeltaps,--excuse the technical +term,--I find myself debilitated to a degree. The open air is extremely +offensive to me. I confine myself to clubs and billiard-rooms. + +My late father, being a man distinguished for his clear convictions, was +accustomed to sustain the statement of those convictions by wagers. +The inherent generosity of his nature obliged him often to waive his +convictions in behalf of others, and thus to abandon the receipt of +considerable sums. He also found the intellectual excitement of games of +chance necessary to his mental health. + +I cannot blame him for these and similar gentlemanly tastes. My own are +the same. + +The late Mr. A. Bratley, at that time in his dotage, and recurring to +the crude idioms of his homely youth, constantly said to my father,-- + +"Harold, you are a spendthrift and a rake, and are bringing up your son +the same." + +I object, of course, to his terms; but since he foresaw that my habits +would be expensive, it is to be regretted that he did not make suitable +provision for their indulgence. + +He did not, however, do so. Persons of low-breeding never can comprehend +their duties to the more refined. + +The respective dusts of my father and grandfather were consigned to the +tomb the same week, and it was found that my mother's property had all +melted away, as--allow me a poetical figure--ice-cream melts between the +lips of beauty heated after the German. + +Yes,--all was gone, except a small pittance in the form of an annuity. I +will not state the ridiculously trifling amount. I have seen more +than our whole annual income lost by a single turn of a card at the +establishment of the late Mr. P. Hearn, and also in private circles. + +Something must be done. Otherwise, that deprivation of the luxuries of +life which to the aristocratic is starvation. + +I stated my plans to my mother. They were based in part upon my +well-known pecuniary success at billiards--I need not say that I prefer +the push game, as requiring no expenditure of muscular force. They were +also based in part upon my intimacy with a distinguished operator in +Wall Street. Our capital would infallibly have been quadrupled,--what +do I say? decupled, centupled, in a short space of time. + +My mother is a good, faithful creature. She looks up to me as a Bratley +should to a Chylde. She appreciates the honor my father did her by his +marriage, and I by my birth. I have frequently remarked a touching +fidelity of these persons of the lower classes of society toward those +of higher rank. + +"I would make any sacrifice in the world," she said, "to help you, my +dear A---" + +"Hush!" I cried. + +I have suppressed my first name as unmelodious and connecting me too +much with a religious persuasion meritorious for its wealth alone. Need +I say that I refer to the faith of the Rothschild? + +"All that I have is yours, my dear Bratley," continued my mother. + +Quite touching! was it not? I was so charmed, that I mentally promised +her a new silk when she went into half-mourning, and asked her to go +with me to the opera as soon as she got over that feeble tendency to +tears which kept her eyes red and unpresentable. + +"I would gladly aid you," the simple-hearted creature said, "in any +attempt to make your fortune in an honorable and manly way." + +"Brava! brava!" I cried, and I patted applause, as she deserved. "And +you had better make over your stocks to me at once," I continued. + +"I cannot without your Uncle Bratley's permission. He is my trustee. Go +to him, my dear son." + +I went to him very unwillingly. My father and I had always as much as +possible ignored the Bratley connection. They live in a part of New York +where self-respect does not allow me to be seen. They are engaged in +avocations connected with the feeding of the lower classes. My father +had always required that the females of their families should call on +my mother on days when she was not at home to our own set, and at hours +when they were not likely to be detected. None of them, I am happy to +say, were ever seen at our balls or our dinners. + +I nerved myself, and penetrated to that Ultima Thule where Mr. Bratley +resides. His house already, at that early hour of two, smelt vigorously +of dinner. Nothing but the urgency of my business could have induced me +to brave these odors of plain roast and boiled. + +A mob of red-faced children rushed to see me as I entered, and I heard +one of them shouting up the stairs,-- + +"Oh, pa! there's a stiffy waiting to see you." + +The phrase was new to me. I looked for a mirror, to see whether any +inaccuracy in my toilet might have suggested it. + +Positively there was no mirror in the _salon_. + +Instead of it, there were nothing but distressingly bright pictures by +artists who had had the bad taste to paint raw Nature just as they saw +it. + +My uncle entered, and quite overwhelmed me with a robust cordiality +which seemed to ignore my grief. + +"Just in time, my boy," said he, "to take a cut of rare roast beef and a +hot potato and a mug of your Uncle Sam's beer with us." + +I shuddered, and rebuked him with the intelligence that I had just +lunched at the club, and should not dine till six. + +Then I stated my business, curtly. + +He looked at me with a stare, which I have frequently observed in +persons of limited intelligence. + +"So you want to gamble away your mother's last dollar," said he. + +In vain I stated and restated to him my plans. The fellow, evidently +jealous of my superior financial ability, constantly interrupted me with +ejaculations of "Pish!" "Bosh!" "Pshaw!" "No go!" and finally, with a +loud thump on a table, covered with such costly but valueless objects as +books and plates, he cried, + +"What a d--d fool!" + +I was glad to perceive that he began to admit my wisdom and his +stolidity. And so I told him. + +"A---," said he, using my abhorred name in full, "I believe you are a +greater ass than your father was." + +"Sir," said I, much displeased, "these intemperate ebullitions will +necessarily terminate our conference." + +"Conference be hanged!" he rejoined. "You may as well give it up. You +are not going to get the first red cent out of me." + +"Have I referred, Sir," said I, "to the inelegant coin you name?" + +The creature grinned. "I shall pay your mother's income quarterly, and +do the best I can by her," he continued; "and if you want to make a +man of yourself, I'll give you a chance in the bakery with me; or Sam +Bratley will take you into his brewery; or Bob into his pork-packery." + +I checked my indignation. The vulgarian wished to drag me, a Chylde, +down to the Bratley level. But I suppressed my wrath, for fear he might +find some pretext for suppressing the quarterly income, and alleged my +delicate health as a reason for my refusing his insulting offer. + +"Well," said he, "I don't see as there is anything else for you to do, +except to find some woman fool enough to marry you, as Betsey did your +father. There's a hundred dollars!" + +I have seldom seen dirtier bills than those he produced and handed to +me. Fortunately I was in deep mourning and my gloves were dark lead +color. + +"That's right," says he,--"grab 'em and fob 'em. Now go to Newport and +try for an heiress, and don't let me see your tallow face inside of my +door for a year." + +He had bought the right to be despotic and abusive. I withdrew and +departed, ruminating on his advice. Singularly, I had not before thought +of marrying. I resolved to do so at once. + +Newport is the mart where the marriageable meet. I took my departure for +Newport next day. + + +II. + +THE HEROINE. + + +I need hardly say, that, on arriving at Newport, one foggy August +morning, I drove at once to the Millard. + +The Millard attracted me for three reasons: First, it was new; second, +it was fashionable; third, the name would be sure to be in favor with +the class I had resolved to seek my spouse among. The term _spouse_ I +select as somewhat less familiar than _wife_, somewhat more permanent +than _bride_, and somewhat less amatory than _the partner of my bosom_. +I wish my style to be elevated, accurate, and decorous. It is my object, +as the reader will have already observed, to convey heroic sentiments in +the finest possible language. + +It was upon some favored individual of the class Southern Heiress that +I designed to let fall the embroidered handkerchief of affectionate +selection. At the Millard I was sure to find her. That enormously +wealthy and highly distinguished gentleman, her father, would naturally +avoid the Ocean House. The adjective _free_, so intimately connected +with the _substantive_ ocean, would constantly occur to his mind and +wound his sensibilities. The Atlantic House was still more out of the +question. The name must perpetually remind the tenants of that hotel of +a certain quite objectionable periodical devoted to propagandism. In +short, not to pursue this process of elimination farther, and perhaps +offend some friend of the class Hotel-Keeper, the Millard was not only +about the cheese, _per se_,--I punningly allude here to the creaminess +of its society,--but inevitably the place to seek my charmer. + +The clock of the Millard was striking eleven as I entered the _salle a +manger_ for a late breakfast after my night-journey from New York by +steamboat. + +I flatter myself that I produced, as I intended, a distinct impression. +My deep mourning gave me a most interesting look, which I heightened +by an air of languor and abstraction as of one lost in grief. My +shirt-studs were jet. The plaits of my shirt were edged with black. My +Clarendon was, of course, black, and from its breast-pocket appeared a +handkerchief dotted with spots, not dissimilar to black peppermint-drops +on a white paper. In consequence of the extreme heat of the season, I +wore waistcoat and trousers of white duck; but they, too, were qualified +with sombre contrasts of binding and stripes. + +The waiters evidently remarked me. It may have been the hope of +pecuniary reward, it may have been merely admiration for my dress and +person; but several rushed forward, diffusing that slightly oleaginous +perfume peculiar to the waiter, and drew chairs for me. + +I had, however, selected my position at the table at the moment of +my entrance. It was _vis-a-vis_ a party of four persons,--two of the +sterner, two of the softer sex. A back view interpreted them to me. +There is much physiognomy in the backs of human heads, because--and here +I flatter myself that I enunciate a profound truth--people wear that +well-known mask, the human countenance, on the front of the human head +alone, and think it necessary to provide such concealment nowhere else. + +"A rich Southern planter and his family!" I said to myself, and took my +seat opposite them. + +"Nothing, Michel," I replied to the waiter's recital of his +bill-of-fare. "Nothing but a glass of iced water and bit of dry toast. +Only that, thank you, Michel." + +My appetite was good, particularly as, in consequence of the agitation +of the water opposite Point Judith, my stomach had ceased to be occupied +with relics of previous meals. My object in denying myself, and +accepting simply hermit fare, was to convey to observers my grief for my +bereavement. I have always deemed it proper for persons of distinguished +birth to deplore the loss of friends in public. Hunger, if extreme, can +always be reduced by furtive supplies from the pastry-cook. + +I could not avoid observing that the party opposite had each gone +through the whole breakfast bill-of-fare in a desultory, but exhaustive +manner. + +As I ordered my more delicate meal, the younger of the two gentlemen +cast upon me a look of latent truculence, such as I have often remarked +among my compatriots of the South. He seemed to detect an unexpressed +sarcasm in the contrast between my gentle refection and his robust +_dejeuner_. + +I hastened to disarm such a suspicion by a half-articulate sigh. No one, +however crass, could have failed to be touched by this token of a grief +so bitter as to refuse luxurious nutriment. + +As I sighed, I glanced with tender meaning at the young lady. Her +feminine heart, I hoped, would interpret and pity me. + +I fancied, that, at my look, her cheeks, though swarthy, blushed. She +was certainly interested, and somewhat confused, and paused a moment +in her mastication. Ham was the viand she was engaged upon, and she +(playfully, I have no doubt) ate with her knife. I have remarked the +same occasional superiority to what might be called Fourchettism and its +prejudices in others of established position in society. + +I lavished a little languid and not too condescending civility upon the +party by passing them, when Michel was absent, the salt, the butter, the +bread, and other commonplace condiments. Presently I withdrew, that my +absence might make me desired. Before I did so, however, I took pains, +by the exhibition of the "New York Herald" in my hands, to show that my +political sentiments were unexceptionable. + +I lost no time in consulting the books of the hotel for the names and +homes of the strangers. + +I read as follows:-- + + _Sachary Mellasys and Lady, } Bayou La + Miss Saccharissa Mellasys, } Farouche, + Mellasys Plickaman, } La._ + +Saccharissa Mellasys! I rolled the name like a sweet morsel under +my tongue. I forgot that she was not beautiful in form, feature, or +complexion. How slight, indeed, is the charm of beauty, when compared +with other charms more permanent! Ah, yes! + +The complexion of Miss Mellasys announced a diet of alternate pickles +and _pralines_ during her adolescent years,--the pickles taken to excite +an appetite for the _pralines_, the _pralines_ absorbed to occupy the +interval until pickle-time approached. Neither her form nor her features +were statuesque. But the name glorified the person. + +Sachary Mellasys was, as I was well aware, the great sugar-planter of +Louisiana, and Saccharissa his only child. + +I am an imaginative man. I have never doubted, that, if I should ever +give my fancies words, they would rank with the great creations of +genius. At the dulcet name of Mellasys a fairy scene grew before +my eyes. I seemed to see an army of merry negroes cultivating the +sugar-cane to the inspiring music of a banjo band. Ever and anon a +company of the careless creatures would pause and dance for pure +gayety of heart. Then they would recline under the shade of the wild +bandanna-tree,--I know this vegetable only through the artless poetry of +the negro minstrels,--while sleek and sprightly negresses, decked with +innocent finery, served them beakers of iced _eau sucre_. + +As I was shaping this Arcadian vision, Mr. Mellasys passed me on his +way to the bar-room. I hastened to follow, without the appearance of +intention. + +My reader is no doubt aware that at the fashionable bar-room the cigars +are all of the same quality, though the prices mount according to the +ambition of the purchaser. I found Mr. Mellasys gasping with efforts to +light a dime cigar. Between his gasps, profane expressions escaped him. + +"Sir," said I, "allow a stranger to offer you a better article." + +At the same time I presented my case filled with choice +Cabanas,--smuggled. My limited means oblige me to employ these judicious +economies. + +Mr. Mellasys took a cigar, lighted, whiffed, looked at me, whiffed +again,-- + +"Sir," says he, "dashed if that a'n't the best cigar I've smoked sence I +quit Bayou La Farouche!" + +"Ah! a Southerner!" said I. "Pray, allow the harmless weed to serve as a +token of amity between our respective sections." + +Mr. Mellasys grasped my hand. + +"Take a drink, Mr. ----?" said he. + +"Bratley Chylde," rejoined I, filling the hiatus,--"and I shall be most +happy." + +The name evidently struck him. It was a combination of all aristocracy +and all plutocracy. As I gave my name, I produced and presented my card. +I was aware, that, with the uncultured, the possession of a card is a +proof of gentility, as the wearing of a coat-of-arms proves a long line +of distinguished ancestry. + +Mr. Mellasys took my card, studied it, and believed in it with +refreshing _naivete_. + +"I'm proud to know you, Mr. Chylde," said he. "I haven't a card; +but Mellasys is my name, and I'll show it to you written on the +hotel-books." + +"We will waive that ceremony," said I. "And allow me to welcome you to +Newport and the Millard. Shall we enjoy the breeze upon the piazza?" + +Before our second cigar was smoked, the great planter and I were on the +friendliest terms. My political sentiments he found precisely in accord +with his own. Indeed, our general views of life harmonized. + +"I dare say you have heard," said Mellasys, "from some of the bloated +aristocrats of my section that I was a slave-dealer once." + +"Such a rumor has reached me," rejoined I. "And I was surprised to find, +that, in some minds of limited intelligence and without development of +the logical faculty, there was a prejudice against the business." + +"You think that buyin' and sellin' 'em is just the same as ownin' 'em?" + +"I do." + +"Your hand!" said he, fervently. + +"Mr. Mellasys," said I, "let me take this opportunity to lay down my +platform,--allow me the playful expression. Meeting a gentleman of your +intelligence from the sunny South, I desire to express my sentiments as +a Christian and a gentleman." + +Here I thought it well to pause and spit, to keep myself in harmony with +my friend. + +"A gentleman," I continued, "I take to be one who confines himself to +the cultivation of his tastes, the decoration of his person, and the +preparation of his whole being to shine in the _salon_. Now to such +a one the condition of the laboring classes can be of no possible +interest. As a gentleman, I cannot recognize either slaves or laborers. +But here Christianity comes in. Christianity requires me to read and +interpret my Bible. In it I find such touching paragraphs as, 'Cursed +be Canaan!' Canaan is of course the negro slave of our Southern States. +Curse him! then, I say. Let us have no weak and illogical attempts to +elevate his condition. Such sentimentalism is rank irreligion. I view +the negro as _a man permanently upon the rack_, who is to be punished +just as much as he will bear without diminishing his pecuniary value. +And the allotted method of punishment is hard work, hard fare, the +liberal use of the whip, and a general negation of domestic privileges." + +"Mr. Chylde," said Mr. Mellasys, rising, "this is truth! this is +eloquence! this is being up to snuff! You are a high-toned gentleman! +you are an old-fashioned Christian! you should have been my partner in +slave-driving! Your hand!" + +The quality of the Mellasys hand was an oleaginous clamminess. My only +satisfaction, in touching it, was, that it seemed to suggest a deficient +circulation of the blood. Mr. Mellasys would probably go off early with +an apoplexy, and the husband of Miss Mellasys would inherit without +delay. + +"And now," continued the planter, "let me introduce you to my daughter." + +I felt that my fortune was made. + +I knew that she would speedily yield to my fascinations. + +And so it proved. In three days she adored me. For three days more I was +coy. In a week she was mine. + + +III. + +THE SUNNY SOUTH. + + +We were betrothed, Saccharissa Mellasys and I. + +In vain did Mellasys Plickaman glower along the corridors of the +Millard. I pitied him for his defeat too much to notice his attempts +to pick a quarrel. Firm in the affection of my Saccharissa and in the +confidence of her father, I waived the insults of the aggrieved and +truculent cousin. He had lost the heiress. I had won her. I could afford +to be generous. + +We were to be married in December, at Bayou La Farouche. Then we were +to sail at once for Europe. Then, after a proud progress through the +principal courts, we were to return and inhabit a stately mansion in New +York. How the heart of my Saccharissa throbbed at the thought of bearing +the elevated name of Chylde and being admitted to the sacred circles of +fashion, as peer of the most elevated in social position! + +I found no difficulty in getting a liberal credit from my tailor. Upon +the mere mention of my engagement, that worthy artist not only provided +me with an abundant supply of raiment, but, with a most charming +delicacy, placed bank-notes for a considerable amount in the pockets +of my new trousers. I was greatly touched by this attention, and very +gladly signed an acknowledgment of debt. + +I regret, that, owing to circumstances hereafter to be mentioned, the +diary kept jointly by Saccharissa and myself during our journey to the +sunny South has passed out of my possession. Its pages overflowed with +tenderness. How beautiful were our dreams of the balls and _soirees_ we +were to give! How we discussed the style of our furniture, our carriage, +and our coachman! How I fed Saccharissa's soul with adulation! She +was ugly, she was vulgar, she was jealous, she was base, she had had +flirtations of an intimate character with scores; but she was rich, and +I made great allowances. + +At last we arrived at Bayou La Farouche. + +I cannot state that the locality is an attractive one. Its land scenery +is composed of alligators and mud in nearly equal proportions. + +I never beheld there my fancy realized of a band of gleeful negroes +hoeing cane to the music of the banjo. There are no wild bandanna-trees, +and no tame ones, either. The slaves of Mr. Mellasys never danced, +except under the whip of a very noisome person who acted as overseer. +There were no sleek and sprightly negresses in gay turbans, and no iced +_eau sucre_. Canaan was cursed with religious rigor on the Mellasys +plantation at Bayou La Farouche. + +All this time Mellasys Plickaman had been my _bete noir_. + +I know nothing of politics. Were our country properly constituted, +I should be in the House of Peers. The Chylde family is of sublime +antiquity, and I am its head in America. But, alas! we have no +hereditary legislators; and though I feel myself competent to wear the +strawberry-leaves, or even to sit upon a throne, I have not been willing +to submit to the unsavory contacts of American political life. Mr. +Mellasys Plickaman took advantage of my ignorance. + +When several gentlemen of the neighborhood were calling upon me in the +absence of Mr. Mellasys, my defeated rival introduced the subject of +politics. + +"I suppose you are a good Democrat, Mr. Chylde?" said one of the +strangers. + +"No, I thank you," replied I, sportively,--meaning, of course, that +they should understand I was a good Aristocrat. + +"Who's your man for President?" my interlocutor continued, rather +roughly. + +I had heard in conversation, without giving the fact much attention, +that an election for President was to take place in a few days. These +struggles of commonplace individuals for the privilege of residing in +a vulgar town like Washington were without interest to me. So I +answered,-- + +"Oh, any of them. They are all alike to me." + +"You don't mean to say," here another of the party loudly broke in, +"that Breckenridge and Lincoln are the same to you?" + +The young man wore long hair and a black dress-coat, though it was +morning. His voice was nasal, and his manner intrusive. I crushed +him with a languid "Yes." He was evidently abashed, and covered his +confusion by lighting a cigar and smoking it with the lighted end in +his mouth. This is a habit of many persons in the South, who hence are +called Fire-Eaters. + +Mellasys Plickaman here changed the subject to horses, which I _do_ +understand, and my visitors presently departed. + + "How happily the days of Thalaba went by!" + +as the poet has it. My Saccharissa and myself are both persons of a +romantic and dreamy nature. Often for hours we would sit and gaze +upon each other with only occasional interjections,--"How warm!" "How +sleepy!" "Is it not almost time for lunch?" As Saccharissa was not in +herself a beautiful object, I accustomed myself to see her merely as a +representative of value. Her yellowish complexion helped me in imagining +her, as it were, a golden image which might be cut up and melted down. +I used to fancy her dresses as made of certificates of stock, and +her ribbons as strips of coupons. Thus she was always an agreeable +spectacle. + +So time flew, and the sun of the sixth of November gleamed across the +scaly backs of the alligators of Bayou La Farouche. + +In three days I was to be made happy with the possession of one +hundred thousand dollars ($100,000) on the nail,--excuse the homely +expression,--great expectations for the future, and the hand of my +Saccharissa. + +For these I exchanged the name and social position of a Chylde, and my +own, I trust, not unattractive person. + +I deemed that I gave myself away dirt-cheap,--excuse again the +colloquialism; the transaction seems to require such a phrase,--for +there is no doubt that Mr. Mellasys was greatly objectionable. It was +certainly very illogical; but his neighbors who owned slaves insisted +upon turning up their noses at Mellasys, because he still kept up his +slave-pen on Touchpitchalas Street, New Orleans. Besides,--and here +again the want of logic seems to culminate into rank absurdity,--he was +viewed with a purely sentimental abhorrence by some, because he had +precluded a reclaimed fugitive from repeating his evasion by roasting +the soles of his feet before a fire until the fellow actually died. The +fact, of coarse, was unpleasant, and the loss considerable,--a prime +field-hand, with some knowledge of carpentry and a good performer on +the violin,--but evasions must be checked, and I cannot see why Mr. +Mellasys's method was too severe. Mr. Mellasys was also considered a +very unscrupulous person in financial transactions,--indeed, what would +be named in some communities a swindler; and I have heard it whispered +that the estimable, but somewhat obese and drowsy person who passed as +his wife was not a wife, ceremonially speaking. The dusky hues of her +complexion were also attributed to an infusion of African blood. There +was certainly more curl in her hair than I could have wished; and +Saccharissa's wiggy looks waged an irrepressible conflict with the +unguents which strove to reduce their crispness. + +Indeed, why should I not be candid? Mellasys _per se_ was a pill, Mrs. +Mellasys was a dose, and Saccharissa a bolus, to one of my refined and +sensitive taste. + +But the sugar coated them. + +To marry the daughter of the great sugar-planter of Louisiana I would +have taken medicines far more unpalatable and assafoetidesque than any +thus far offered. + +Meanwhile Mr. Mellasys Plickaman, cousin of my betrothed, had changed +his tactics and treated me with civility and confidence. We drank +together freely, sometimes to the point of inebriation. Indeed, unless +he put me to bed, on the evening before the day of the events I am about +to describe, I do not know how I got there. + +Morning dawned on the sixth of November. + +I was awakened, as usual, by the outcries of the refractory negroes +receiving their matinal stripes in the whipping-house. Feeling a little +languid and tame, I strolled down to witness the spectacle. + +It stimulated me quite agreeably. The African cannot avoid being comic. +He is the grotesque element in our civilization. He will be droll even +under the severest punishment. His contortions of body, his grimaces, +his ejaculations of "O Lor'! O Massa!" as the paddle or the lash strikes +his flesh, are laughable in the extreme. + +I witnessed the flagellation of several pieces of property of either +sex. The sight of their beating had the effect of a gentle tickling upon +me. The tone of my system was restored. I grew gay and lightsome. I +exchanged jokes with the overseer. He appreciated my mood, and gave a +farcical turn to the incidents of the occasion. + +I enjoyed my breakfast enormously. Saccharissa never looked so sweet; +Mr. Mellasys never so little like--pardon the expression--a cross +between a hog and a hyena; and I began to fancy that my mother-in-law's +general flabbiness of flesh and drapery was not so very offensive. + +After breakfast, Mr. Mellasys left us. It was, he said, the day of the +election for President. How wretched that America should not be governed +by hereditary sovereigns and an order of nobles trained to control! + +The day passed. It was afternoon, and I sat reading one of the novels +of my favorite De Balzac to my Saccharissa. At the same time my +imagination, following the author, strayed to Paris, and recalled to me +my bachelor joys in that gay capital. I resolved to repeat them again, +on our arrival there, at my bride's expense. How charming to possess a +hundred thousand dollars, ($100,000,) even burdened with a wife! + +My reading and my reverie were interrupted by the tramp of horses +without. Six persons in dress-coats rode up, dismounted, and approached. +All were smoking cigars with the lighted ends in their mouths. Mellasys +Plickaman led the party. I recognized also the persons who had +questioned me as to my politics. They entered the apartment where I sat +alone with Saccharissa. + +"Thar he is!" said Mellasys Plickaman. "Thar is the d--d Abolitionist!" + +Seeing that he indicated me, and that his voice was truculent, I +looked to my betrothed for protection. She burst into tears and drew a +handkerchief. + +An odor of musk combated for an instant with the whiskey reek diffused +by Mr. Plickaman and his companions. The balmy odor was, however, +quelled by the ruder scent. + +"I am surprised, Mr. Plickaman," said I, mildly, but conscious of +tremors, "at your use of opprobrious epithets in the presence of a +lady." + +"Oh, you be blowed!" returned he, with unpardonable rudeness. "You can't +skulk behind Saccharissy." + +"To what is this change in tone and demeanor owing, Sir?" I asked, with +dignity. + +"Don't take on airs, you little squirt!" said he. + +It will be observed that I quote his very language. His intention was +evidently insulting. + +"Mr. Chylde," remarked Judge Pyke, one of the gentlemen who had been +inquisitive as to my political sentiments, "The Vigilance Committee of +Fire-Eaters of Bayou La Farouche have come to the conclusion that you +are a spy, an Abolitionist, and a friend of Beecher and Phillips. We +intend to give you a fair trial; but I may as well state that we have +all made up our minds as to the law, the facts, and the sentence. +Therefore, prepare for justice. Colonel Plickaman, have you given +directions about the tar?" + +"It'll be b'ilin' in about eight minutes," replied my quondam rival, +with a boo-hoo of vulgar laughter. + +"Culprit!" said Judge Pyke, looking at me with a truly terrible +expression, "I have myself heard you avow, with insolent audacity, +that you were not a Democrat. Do you not know, Sir, that nothing but +Democrats are allowed to breathe the zephyrs of Louisiana? Silence, +culprit! Not a word! The court cannot be interrupted. I have also heard +you state that the immortal Breckenridge, Kentucky's favorite son, +was the same to you as the tiger Lincoln, the deadly foe of Southern +institutions. Silence, culprit!" + +Here Saccharissa moaned, and wafted a slight flavor of musk to me from +her cambric wet with tears. + +"Colonel Plickaman," continued the Judge, "produce the letters and +papers of the culprit." + +I am aware that a rival has rights, and that a defeated suitor may, +according to the code, calumniate and slander the more fortunate one. I +have done so myself. But it seems to me that there should be limits; and +I cannot but think that Mr. Mellasys Plickaman overstepped the limits +of fair play, when he took advantage of my last night's inebriety +to possess himself of my journal and letters. I will not, however, +absolutely commit myself on this point. Perhaps everything is fair in +love. Perhaps I may desire to avail myself of the same privilege in +future. + +I had spoken quite freely in my journal of the barbarians of Bayou La +Farouche. Each of the gentlemen now acting upon my jury was alluded to. +Colonel Plickaman read each passage in a pointed way, interjecting,--"Do +you hear that, Billy Sangaree?" "How do you like yourself now, Major +Licklickin?" "Here's something about your white cravat, Parson +Butterfut." + +The delicacy and wit of my touches of character chafed these gentlemen. +Their aspect became truly formidable. + +Meantime I began to perceive an odor which forcibly recalled to me the +asphaltum-kettles of the lively Boulevards of Paris. + +"Wait awhile, Fire-Eaters," said Plickaman, "the tar isn't quite ready +yet." + +The tar! What had that viscous and unfragrant material to do with the +present interview? + +"I won't read you what he says of me," resumed the Colonel. + +"Yes,--out with it!" exclaimed all. + +Suffice it to say that I had spoken of Mr. Mellasys Plickaman as a +person so very ill-dressed, so very lavish in expectoration, so entirely +destitute of the arts and graces of the higher civilization, merited. +His companions required that he should read his own character. He did +so. I need not say that I was suffering extremities of apprehension all +this time; but still I could not refrain from a slight sympathetic smile +of triumph as the others roared with laughter at my accurate analysis of +my rival. + +"You'll pay for this, Mr. A. Bratley Chylde!" says Plickaman. + +So long as my Saccharissa was on my side, I felt no special fear of what +my foes might do. I knew the devoted nature of the female sex. "_Elles +meurent, ou elles s'attachent_,"--beautiful thought! These riflers +of journals would, I felt confident, be unable to produce anything +reflecting my real sentiments about my betrothed. I had spoken of her +and her family freely--one must have a vent somewhere--to Mr. Derby +Deblore, my other self, my _Pylades_, my _Damon_, my _fidus Achades_ in +New York; but, unless they found Derby and compelled him to testify, +they could not alienate my Saccharissa. + +I gave her a touching glance, as Mellasys Plickaman closed his reading +of my private papers. + +She gave me a touching glance,--or rather, a glance which her amorphous +features meant to make touching,--and, waving musk from her handkerchief +through the apartment, cried,-- + +"Never mind, Arthur dear! I don't like you a bit the less for saying +what barbarous creatures these men are. They may do what they +please,--I'll stand by you. You have my heart, my warm Southern heart, +my Arthur!" + +"Arthur!" shouted that atrocious Plickaman,--"the loafer's name's +Aminadab, after that old Jew, his grandfather." + +Saccharissa looked at him and smiled contemptuously. + +I tried to smile. I could not. Aminadab _was_ my name. That old dotard, +my grandfather, had borne it before me. I had suppressed it carefully. + +"Aminadab's his name," repeated the Colonel. "His own mother ought to +know what he was baptized, and here is a letter from her which the +postmaster and I opened this morning. Look!--'My dear Aminadab.'" + +"Don't believe it, Saccharissa," said I, faintly, "It is only one of +those tender nicknames, relics of childhood, which the maternal parent +alone remembers." + +"Silence, culprit!" exclaimed Judge Pyke. "And now, Colonel, read the +letter upon which our sentence is principally based,--that traitorous +document which you and our patriotic postmaster arrested." + +The ruffian, with a triumphant glance at me, took from his pocket +a letter from Derby Deblore. He cleared his throat by a plenteous +expectoration, and then proceeded to read as follows:-- + +"Dear Bratley,--Nigger ran like a hound. Marshall and the rest only saw +his heels. I'm going on to Toronto to see how he does there. Keep your +eyes peeled, when you come through Kentucky. There's more of the same +stock there, only waiting for somebody to say, 'Leg it!' and they'll go +like mad." + +Here the audience interrupted,--"Hang him! hang him! tar and feathers +a'n't half bad enough for the dam' nigger-thief!" + +I began to comprehend Deblore's innocent reference to his favorite horse +Nigger; and a successful race he had made with the well-known racer +Marshall--not Rynders--was construed by my jury into a knowledge on my +part of the operations of the "Underground Railroad." What could have +been more absurd? I endeavored to protest. I endeavored to show them, on +general and personal grounds, how utterly devoted I was to the "Peculiar +Institution." + +"Billy Sangaree," said Judge Pyke, "do you and Major Licklickin stand by +the low-lived Abolitionist, and if he says another word, blow out his +Black Republican heart." + +They did so. I was silent. Saccharissa gave me a glance expressive of +continued devotion. So long as I kept her and her hundred thousand +dollars, ($100,000,) I little cared for the assaults of these noisy and +ill-bred persons. + +"Continue, Colonel," said Judge Pyke, severely. + +Plickaman resumed the reading of my friend's letter. + +"Well, Bratley," Deblore went on, "I hope you'll be able to stand Bayou +La Farouche till you're married. I couldn't do it. I roar over your +letters. But I swear I respect your powers of humbug. I suppose, if you +didn't let out to me, you never could lie so to your dear Saccharissa. +Do you know I think you are a little too severe in calling her a mean, +spiteful, slipshod, vulgar, dumpy little flirt?" + +"Read that again!" shrieked Saccharissa. + +"You are beginning to find out your Aminadab!" says Plickaman. + +I moved my lips to deny my name; but the pistol of Billy Sangaree was +at my right temple, the pistol of Major Licklickin at my left. I was +silent, and bore the scornful looks of my persecutors with patience and +dignity. + +Plickaman repeated the sentence. + +"But hear the rest," said he, and read on:-- + +"From what you say of her tinge of African blood and other charming +traits, I have constructed this portrait of the future Mrs. Bratley +Chylde, as the Hottentot Venus. Behold it!" + +And Mellasys held up a highly colored caricature, covering one whole +side of my friend's sheet. + +Saccharissa rose from the sofa where she had been sitting during the +whole of my trial. + +She stood before me,--really I cannot deny it,--a little, ugly, vulgar +figure, overloaded with finery, and her laces and ribbons trembled with +rage. + +She seemed not to be able to speak, and, by way of relieving herself of +her overcharge of wrath, smote me several times on either ear with that +pudgy hand I had so often pressed in mine or tenderly kissed. + +At this exhibition of a resentment I can hardly deem feminine, the +Fire-Eaters roared with laughter and cheered her to continue. A circle +of negroes also, at the window, expressed their amusement at the scene +in the guttural manner of their race. + +I could not refrain from tears at these unhappy exhibitions on the part +of my betrothed. They augured ill for the harmony of our married life. + +"Hit him again, Rissy! he's got no friends," that vulgar Plickaman +urged. + +She again advanced, seized me by the hair, and shook me with greater +muscular force than I should have expected of one of her indolent +habits. Delicacy for her sex of course forbade my offering resistance; +and besides, there were my two sentries, roaring with vulgar laughter, +but holding their pistols with a most unpleasant accuracy of aim at my +head. + +"Saccharissa, my love," I ventured to say, in a pleading tone, "these +momentary ebullitions of a transitory rage will give the bystanders +unfavorable impressions of your temper." + +"You horrid little wretch!" she screeched, "you sneak! you irreligious +infidel! you Black Republican! you Aminadab!"---- + +Here her unnecessary passion choked her, and she took advantage of +the pause to handle my hair with extreme violence. The sensation was +unpleasant, but I began to hope that no worse would befall me, and +I knew that with a few dulcet words in private I could remove from +Saccharissa's mind the asperity induced by my friend's caricature. + +"I leave it to you, gentlemen," said she, "whether I am vulgar, as this +fellow's correspondence asserts." + +"Certainly not," said Judge Pyke. "You are one of the most high-toned +beauties in the sunny South, the land of the magnolia and the papaw." + +"Your dignity," said Major Licklickin, "is only surpassed by your grace, +and both by your queenly calmness." + +The others also gave her the best compliments they could, poor fellows! +I could have taught them what to say. + +Here a grinning negro interrupted with,-- + +"De tar-kittle's a b'ilin' on de keen jump, Mas'r Mellasys." + +"Gentlemen of the Jury," said Judge Pyke, "as you had agreed upon your +verdict before the trial, it is not requisite that you should retire to +consult. Prisoner at the Bar, rise to receive sentence." + +I thought it judicious to fall upon my knees and request forgiveness; +but my persecutors were blinded by what no doubt seemed to them a +religious zeal. + +"Git up!" said Major Licklickin; and I am ashamed, for his sake, to say +that there was an application of boot accompanying this remark. + +"Prisoner," continued my Rhadamanthus, "you have had a fair trial, and +you are found guilty on all the counts of the indictment. First: Of +disloyalty to the South. Second: Of indifference to the Democratic +candidate for the Presidency. Third: Of maligning the character +of Southern patriots in a book intended, no doubt, for universal +circulation through the Northern States. Fourth: Of holding +correspondence with an agent of the Underground Railroad, who, as he +himself avows, has recently run off a nigger to Toronto.--Silence, Sir! +Choke him, Billy Sangaree, if he says a word!--Fifth: Of defaming a +Southern lady, while at the same time you were endeavoring to win her +most attractive property and person from those who should naturally +acquire them. Sixth: Of Agrarianism, Abolitionism, Atheism, and +Infidelity. Prisoner at the Bar, your sentence is, that you be tarred +and cottoned and leave the State. If you are caught again, you will be +hung by the neck, and Henry Ward Beecher have mercy on your soul!" + +I was now marched along by my two sentries to a huge tree, not of the +bandanna species. Beneath it a sugar-kettle filled with ebullient tar +was standing. + +My persecutors, with tranquil brutality, proceeded to disrobe me. As my +nether garments were removed, Mellasys Plickaman succeeded in persuading +Saccharissa to retire. She, however, took her station at a window +and peered through the blinds at the spectacle. I do not envy her +sensations. All her bright visions of fashionable life were destroyed +forever. She would now fall into the society from which I had endeavored +to lift her. Poor thing! knowing, too, that I, and my friend Derby +Deblore, perhaps the most elegant young man in America, regarded her as +a Hottentot Venus. Poor thing! I have no doubt that she longed to rush +out, fling herself at my feet, and pray me to forgive her and reconsider +my verdict of dumpiness and vulgarity. + +Meantime I had been reduced to my shirt and drawers,--excuse the nudity +of my style in stating this fact. Mellasys Plickaman took a ladle-full +of the viscous fluid and poured it over my head. + +"Aminadab," said he, "I baptize thee!" + +I have experienced few sensations more unpleasant than this application. +The tar descended in warm and sluggish streams, trickling over my +forehead, dropping from my eyelids, rolling over my cheeks, sealing my +mouth, gluing my ears to my skull, identifying itself with my hair, +pursuing the path indicated by my spine beneath my shirt,--in short, +enveloping me with a close-fitting armor of a glutinous and most +unsavory material. + +Each of the jury followed the example of my detested rival. In a few +moments the tarring was complete. Few can see themselves mentally or +physically as others see them; but, judging from the remarks made, I am +convinced that I must have afforded an entertaining spectacle to the +party. They roared with laughter, and jeered me. I, however, preserved a +silence discreet, and, I flatter myself, dignified. + +The negroes, particularly those at whose fustigation I had assisted +in the morning, joined in the scoffs of their masters, calling me +Bobolitionist, Black Republican, Liberator, and other nicknames by +which these simple-hearted and contented creatures express dislike and +distrust. + +"Bring the cotton!" now cried Mellasys Plickaman. + +A bag of that regal product was brought. + +"Roll him in it!" said Billy Sangaree. + +"Let the Colonel work his own tricks," Major Licklickin said. "He's an +artist, he is." + +I must admit that he was an artist. He fabricated me an elaborate wig of +the cotton. He arranged me a pair of bushy white eyebrows. He stuck +a venerable beard upon my chin, and a moustache upon my lip. Then he +proceeded to indicate my ribs with lines of cotton, and to cap my +shoulders with epaulets. It would be long to describe the fantastic +tricks he played with me amid the loud laughter of his crew. + +Occasionally, also, I heard suppressed giggles from Saccharissa at the +window. + +I have no doubt that I should have strangled my late _fiancee_, if such +an act had been consistent with my personal safety. + +When I was completely cottoned, in the decorative manner I have +described, Mellasys took a banjo from an old negro, and, striking it, +not without a certain unsophisticated and barbaric grace appropriate to +the instrument, commanded me to dance. + +I essayed to do so. But my heart was heavy; consequently my heels were +not light. My faint attempts at pirouettes were not satisfactory. + +"Dance jollier, or we'll hang you," said Plickaman. + +"No," says Judge Pyke,--"the sentence of the Court has been executed. +In the sacred name of Justice I protest against proceeding farther. +Culprit," continued he, in a voice of thunder, "cut for the North Star, +and here's passage-money for you." + +He stuck a half-eagle into the tarry integument of my person. Billy +Sangaree, Major Licklickin, and others of the more inebriated, imitated +him. My dignity of bearing had evidently made a favorable impression. + +I departed amid cheers, some ironical, some no doubt sincere. But to the +last, these chivalric, but prejudiced and misguided gentlemen declined +to listen to my explanations. Mellasys Plickaman had completely +perverted their judgments against me. + +The last object I saw was Saccharissa, looking more like a Hottentot +Venus than ever, waving her handkerchief and kissing her hand to me. Did +she repent her brief disloyalty? For a moment I thought so, and resolved +to lie in wait, return by night, and urge her to fly with me. But while +I hesitated, Mellasys Plickaman drew near her. She threw herself into +his arms, and there, before all the Committee of Fire-Eaters of Bayou La +Farouche, she kissed him with those amorphous lips I had often compelled +myself to taste. Faugh! + +I deemed this scene a token that my engagement was absolutely +terminated. + +There was no longer any reason why I should degrade myself by remaining +in this vulgar society. I withdrew into the thickets of the adjoining +wood and there for a time abandoned myself to melancholy reminiscences. + +Presently I heard footsteps. I turned and saw a black approaching, +bearing the homely viand known as corn-dodger. He offered it. I accepted +it as a tribute from the inferior race to the superior. + +I recognized him as one whose fustigation had so revived my crapulous +spirits in the morning. He seemed to bear no malice. Malignity is +perhaps a mark of more highly developed character. I, for example, +possess it to a considerable degree. + +The black led me to a lair in the wood. He took my half-eagles from my +tar. He scraped and cleansed me by simple methods of which he had the +secret. He clothed me in rude garments. Gunny-bag was, I think, the +material. He gave me his own shoes. The heels were elongated; but this +we remedied by a stuffing of leaves. He conducted me toward the banks of +Bayou La Farouche. + +On our way, we were compelled to pass not far from the Mellasys mansion. +There was a sound of revelry. It was night. I crept cautiously up and +peered into the window. + +There stood the Reverend Onesimus Butterfut, since a prominent candidate +for the archbishopric of the Southern Confederacy. Saccharissa, more +over-dressed than usual, and her cousin Mellasys Plickaman, somewhat +unsteady with inebriation, stood before him. He was pronouncing them man +and wife,--why not ogre and hag? + +How fortunate was my escape! + +As my negro guide would not listen to my proposal to set the Mellasys +establishment on fire while the inmates slept, I followed him to the +banks of the Bayou. He provided me with abundant store of the homely +food already alluded to. He launched me in a vessel; known to some as +a dug-out, to some as a gundalow. His devotion was really touching. +It convinced me more profoundly than ever of the canine fidelity and +semi-animal characteristics of his race. + +I floated down the Bayou. I was picked up by a cotton-ship in the Gulf. +I officiated as assistant to the cook on the homeward voyage. + +At the urgent solicitation of my mother, I condescended, on my return, +to accept a situation in my Uncle Bratley's cracker-bakery. The business +is not aristocratic. But what business is? I cannot draw the line +between the baker of hard tack--such is the familiar term we employ--and +the seller of the material for our product, by the barrel or the cargo. +From the point of view of a Chylde, all avocations for the making of +money seem degrading, and only the spending is dignified. + +As my conduct during the Mellasys affair has been maligned and scoffed +at by persons of crude views of what is _comme il faut_, I have drawn up +this statement, confident that it will justify me to all of my order, +which I need not state is distinctively that of the Aristocrat and the +Gentleman. + + + + +MY ODD ADVENTURE WITH JUNIUS BRUTUS BOOTH. + + +More than twenty years ago, being pastor of a church in one of our +Western cities, I was sitting, one evening, meditating over my coal +fire, which was cheerfully blazing up and gloomily subsiding again, in +the way that Western coal fires in Western coal grates were then very +much in the habit of doing. I was a young, and inexperienced minister. +I had come to the West, fresh from a New England divinity-school, with +magnificent ideas of the vast work which was to be done, and with rather +a vague notion of the way in which I was to do it. My views of the West +were chiefly derived from two books, both of which are now obsolete. +When a child, with the omnivorous reading propensity of children, I had +perused a thin, pale octavo, which stood on the shelves of our library, +containing the record of a journey by the Rev. Thaddeus Mason Harris, of +Dorchester, from Massachusetts to Marietta, Ohio. Allibone, whom nothing +escapes, gives the title of the book, "Journal of a Tour into the +Territory Northwest of the Allegheny Mountains in 1803, Boston, 1805." +That a man should write an octavo volume about a journey to Marietta now +strikes us as rather absurd; but in those days the overland journey to +Ohio was as difficult as that to California is now. The other book was a +more important one, being Timothy Flint's "Ten Years' Recollections +of the Mississippi Valley," published in 1826. Mr. Flint was a man of +sensibility and fancy, a sharp observer, and an interesting writer. His +book opened the West to us in its scenery and in its human interest. + +I was sitting in my somewhat lonely position, watching my coal fire, and +thinking of the friends I had left on the other side of the mountains. +I had not succeeded as I had hoped in my work. I came to the West +expecting to meet with opposition, and I found only indifference. I +expected infidelity, and found worldliness. I had around me a company +of good Christian friends, but they were no converts of mine; they were +from New England, like myself, and brought their religion with them. +Upon the real Western people I had made no impression, and could not see +how I should make any. Those who were religious seemed to be bigots; +those who were not religious cared apparently more for making money, for +politics, for horseracing, for duelling, than for the difference between +Homoousians and Homoiousians. They were very fond of good preaching, but +their standard was a little different from that I had been accustomed +to. A solid, meditative, carefully written sermon had few attractions +for them. They would go to hear our great New England divines on account +of their reputation, but they would run in crowds to listen to John +Newland Maffit. What they wanted, as one of them expressed it, was "an +eloquent divine and no common orator." They liked sentiment run out into +sentimentalism, fluency, point, plenty of illustration, and knock-down +argument. How could a poor boy, fresh from the groves of our Academy, +where Good Taste reigned supreme, and where to learn how to manage one's +voice was regarded as a sin against sincerity, how could he meet such +demands as these? + +I was more discouraged than I need to have been; for, after all, the +resemblances in human beings are more than their differences. The +differences are superficial,--the resemblances radical. Everywhere men +like, in a Christian minister, the same things,--sincerity, earnestness, +and living Christianity. Mere words may please, but not long. Men differ +in taste about the form of the cup out of which they drink this wine of +Divine Truth, but they agree in their thirst for the same wine. + +But to my story. + +I was sitting, therefore, meditating somewhat sadly, when a knock came +at the door. On opening it, a negro boy, with grinning face, presented +himself, holding a note. The great fund of good-humor which God has +bestowed on the African race often makes them laugh when we see no +occasion for laughter. Any event, no matter what it is, seems to them +amusing. So this boy laughed merely because he had brought me a note, +and not because there was anything peculiarly amusing in the message +which the note contained. It is true that you sometimes meet a +melancholy negro. But such, I fancy, have some foreign blood in +them,--they are not Africans _pur sang_. The race is so essentially +joyful, that centuries of oppression and hardship cannot depress its +good spirits. It is cheerful in spite of slavery, and in spite of cruel +prejudice. + +The note the boy brought me did not seem adapted to furnish much +provocation for laughter. It was as follows:-- + +"_United States Hotel_, Jan. 4th, 1834. + +"SIR,--I hope you will excuse the liberty of a stranger addressing you +on a subject he feels great interest in. It is to require a place of +interment for his friend[s] in the church-yard, and also the expense +attendant on the purchase of such place of temporary repose. + +"Your communication on this matter will greatly oblige, + +"Sir, + +"Your respectful and + +"Obedient Servant, + +"J.B. BOOTH." + +It will be observed that after the word "friend" an [s] follows in +brackets. In the original the word was followed by a small mark which +might or might not give it the plural form. It could be read either +"friend" or "friends"; but as we do not usually find ourselves called +upon to bury more than one friend at a time, the hasty reader would +not notice the mark, but would read it "friend." So did I; and only +afterward, in consequence of the _denouement_, did I notice that it +might be read in the other way. + +Taking my hat, I stepped into the street. Gas in those days was not; +an occasional lantern, swung on a wire across the intersection of the +streets, reminded us that the city was once French, and suggested the +French Revolution and the cry, "_A la lanterne!_" First I went to my +neighbor, the mayor of the city, in pursuit of the desired information. +A jolly mayor was he,--a Yankee melted down into a Western man, +thoroughly Westernized by a rough-and-tumble life in Kentucky during +many years. Being obliged to hold a mayor's court every day, and knowing +very little of law, his chief study was, as he expressed it, "how to +choke off the Kentucky lawyers." Mr. Mayor not being at home, I turned +next to the office of another naturalized Yankee,--a Yankee naturalized, +but never Westernized. He was one of those who do not change their mind +with their sky, who, exiled from the dear hills of New England, can +never get away from the inborn, inherent Yankee. He was a Plymouth man, +and religiously preserved every opinion, habit, and accent which he had +brought from Plymouth Rock. When Kentucky was madly Democratic and wept +over the dead Jefferson as over her saint, he had expressed the opinion +that it would have been well for the country, if he had died long +before,--for which expression he came near being lynched. He was the +most unpopular and the most indispensable man in the city,--they could +live neither with him nor without him. He founded and organized the +insurance companies, the public schools, the charitable associations, +the great canal, the banking-system,--in short, all Yankee institutions. +The city was indebted to him for much of its prosperity, but disliked +him while it respected him. For he spared no Western prejudice; he +remorselessly criticized everything that was not done as Yankees do it: +and the most provoking thing of all was that he never made a mistake; he +was always right. + +Finding no one at home, and so not being able to learn about the price +of lots in the church-yard, I walked on to the hotel, and asked to see +Mr. J.B. Booth. I was shown into a private parlor, where he and another +gentleman were sitting by a table. On the table were candles, a decanter +of wine, and glasses, a plate of bread, cigars, and a book. Mr. Booth +rose when I announced myself, and I at once recognized the distinguished +actor. I had met him once before, and travelled with him for part of a +day. He was a short man, but one of those who seem tall when they choose +to do so. He had a clear blue eye and fair complexion. In repose +there was nothing to attract attention to him; but when excited, his +expression was so animated, his eye was so brilliant, and his figure so +full of life, that he became another man. + +Having told him that I had not been successful in procuring the +information he desired, but would bring it to him on the following +morning, he thanked me, and asked me to sit down. It passed through my +mind, that, as he had lost a friend and was a stranger in the place, I +might be of use to him. Perhaps he needed consolation, and it was my +office to sympathize with the bereaved. So I sat down. But it did not +appear that he was disposed to seek for such comfort, or engage in such +discourse. Once or twice I endeavored, but without success, to turn +the conversation to his presumed loss. I asked him if the death of his +friend was sudden. + +"Very," he replied. + +"Was he a relative?" + +"Distant," said he, and changed the subject. + +It is twenty-seven years since these events took place, and I do not +pretend to give the conversation very accurately, but what occurred was +very much like this. It was a dialogue between Booth and myself, the +third party saying not a word during the evening. Mr. Booth first asked +me to take a glass of wine, or a cigar, both of which I declined. + +"Well," said he, "let me try to entertain you in another way. When you +came in, I was reading aloud to my friend. Perhaps you would like to +hear me read." + +"I certainly should," said I. + +"What shall I read?" + +"Whatever you like best. What you like to read I shall like to hear." + +"Then suppose I attempt Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner'? Have you time for +it? It is long." + +"Yes, I should like it much." + +So he read aloud the whole of this magnificent poem. I have listened to +Macready, to Edmund Kean, to Rachel, to Jenny Lind, to Fanny Kemble,--to +Webster, Clay, Everett, Harrison Gray Otis,--to Dr. Channing, Henry +Ward Beecher, Wendell Phillips, Father Taylor, Ralph Waldo Emerson,--to +Victor Hugo, Coquerel, Lacordaire; but none of them affected me as I was +affected by this reading. I forgot the place where I was, the motive of +my coming, the reader himself. I knew the poem almost by heart, yet I +seemed never to have heard it before. I was by the side of the doomed +mariner. I was the wedding-guest, listening to his story, held by his +glittering eye. I was with him in the storm, among the ice, beneath +the hot and copper sky. Booth became so absorbed in his reading, so +identified with the poem, that his tone and manner were saturated with +a feeling of reality. He actually thought himself the mariner,--so I am +persuaded,--while he was reading. As the poem proceeded, and we plunged +deeper and deeper into its mystic horrors, the actual world receded +into a dim, indefinable distance. The magnetism of this marvellous +interpreter had caught up himself, and me with him, into Dreamland, from +which we gently descended at the end of Part VI., and "the spell was +snapt." + + "And now, all in my own countree, + I stood on the firm land,"-- + +returned from a voyage into the inane. Again I found myself sitting in +the little hotel parlor, by the side of a man with glittering eye, with +a third somebody on the other side of the table. + +I drew a long breath. + +Booth turned over the leaves of the volume. It was the collected Works +of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats. + +"Did you ever read," said he, "Shelley's argument against the use of +animal food, at the end of 'Queen Mab'?" + +"Yes, I have read it." + +"And what do you think of the argument?" + +"Ingenious, but not satisfactory." + +"To me it _is_ satisfactory. I have long been convinced that it is wrong +to take the life of an animal for our pleasure. I eat no animal food. +There is my supper,"--pointing to the plate of bread. "And, indeed," +continued he, "I think the Bible favors this view. Have you a Bible with +you?" + +I had not. + +Booth thereupon rang the bell, and when the boy presented himself, +called for a Bible. _Garcon_ disappeared, and came back soon with a +Bible on a waiter. + +Our tragedian took the book, and proceeded to argue his point by means +of texts selected skilfully here and there, from Genesis to Revelation. +He referred to the fact that it was not till after the Deluge men were +allowed, "for the hardness of their hearts," as he maintained, to eat +meat. But in the beginning it was not so; only herbs were given to man, +at first, for food. He quoted the Psalmist (Psalm civ. 14) to show that +man's food came from the earth, and was the green herb; and contended +that the reason why Daniel and his friends were fairer and fatter than +the children who ate their portion of meat was that they ate only pulse +(Daniel i. 12-15). These are all of his Scriptural arguments which I now +recall; but I thought them very ingenious at the time. + +The argument took some time. Then he recited one or two pieces bearing +on the same subject, closing with Byron's Lines to his Newfoundland Dog. + +"In connection with that poem," he continued, "a singular event once +happened to me. I was acting in Petersburg, Virginia. My theatrical +engagement was just concluded, and I dined with a party of friends +one afternoon before going away. We sat after dinner, singing songs, +reciting poetry, and relating anecdotes. At last I recited those lines +of Byron on his dog. I was sitting by the fireplace, my feet resting +against the jamb, and a single candle was burning on the mantel. It had +become dark. Just as I came to the end of the poem,-- + + "'To mark a friend's remains these stones arise, + I never knew but one, and here he lies,'-- + +"my foot slipped down the jamb, and struck a _dog_, who was lying +beneath. The dog sprang up, howled, and ran out of the room, and at the +same moment the candle went out. I asked whose dog it was. No one knew. +No one had seen the dog till that moment. Perhaps you will smile at me, +Sir, and think me superstitious,--but I could not but think that the +animal was brought there by _occult sympathy_." + +Having uttered these oracular words in a very solemn tone, Booth rose, +and, taking one of the candles, said to me, "Would you like to look at +the remains?" + +I assented. Asking our silent friend to excuse us, he led me into an +adjoining chamber. I looked toward a bed in the corner of the room, +expecting to see a corpse. There was none there. But Booth went to +another corner of the room, where, spread out upon a large sheet, I +saw--what do you suppose, dear reader? + +_About a bushel of Wild Pigeons!_ + +Booth knelt down by the side of the birds, and with every evidence of +sincere affliction began to mourn over them. He took them up in his +hands tenderly, and pressed them to his heart. For a few moments he +seemed to forget my presence. For this I was glad, for it gave me a +little time to recover from my astonishment, and to consider rapidly +what it might mean. As I look back now, and think of the oddity of +the situation, I rather wonder at my own self-possession. It was a +sufficiently trying position. At first I thought it was a hoax, an +intentional piece of practical fun, of which I was to be the object. But +even in the moment allowed me to think, I decided that this could not +be. For I recalled the long and elaborate Bible argument against taking +the life of animals, which could hardly have been got up for the +occasion. I considered also that as a joke it would be too poor in +itself, and too unworthy a man like Booth. So I decided that it was a +sincere conviction,--an idea, exaggerated perhaps to the borders of +monomania, of the sacredness of all life. And I determined to treat +the conviction with respect, as all sincere and religious convictions +deserve to be treated. + +I also saw the motive for this particular course of action. During the +week immense quantities of the Wild Pigeon (Passenger Pigeon, _Columba +Migratoria_) had been flying over the city, in their way to and from +a _roost_ in the neighborhood. These birds had been slaughtered by +myriads, and were for sale by the bushel at the corners of every street +in the city. Although all the birds which could be killed by man made +the smallest impression on the vast multitude contained in one of these +flocks,--computed by Wilson to consist of more than twenty-two hundred +millions,--yet to Booth the destruction seemed wasteful, wanton, and +from his point of view was a wilful and barbarous murder. + +Such a sentiment was perhaps an exaggeration; still I could not but +feel a certain sympathy with its humanity. It was an error in a good +direction. If an insanity, it was better than the cold, heartless sanity +of most men. By the time, therefore, that Booth was ready to speak, I +was prepared to answer. + +"You see," said he, "these innocent victims of man's barbarity. I wish +to testify in some public way against this wanton destruction of life. +And I wish you to help me. Will you?" + +"Hardly," I replied. "I expected something very different from this, +when I received your note. I did not come to see you expecting to be +called to assist at the funeral solemnities of birds." + +"Nor did I send for you," he answered. "I merely wrote to ask about the +lot in the grave-yard. But now you are here, why not help me? Do you +fear the laugh of man?" + +"No," I returned. "If I agreed with you in regard to this subject, I +might, perhaps, have the courage to act out my convictions. But I do +not look at it as you do. There is no reason, then, why I should have +anything to do with it. I respect your convictions, but do not share +them." + +"That is fair," he said. "I cannot ask anything more. I am obliged to +you for coming to see me. My intention was to purchase a place in the +burial-ground, and have them put into a coffin and carried in a hearse. +I might do it without any one's knowing that it was not a human body. +Would you assist me, then?" + +"But if no one _knew_ it," I said, "how would it be a public testimony +against the destruction of life?" + +"True, it would not. Well, I will consider what to do. Perhaps I may +wish to bury them privately in some garden." + +"In that case," said I, "I will find you a place in the grounds of some +of my friends." + +He thanked me, and I took my leave,--exceedingly astonished and amused +by the incident, but also interested in the earnestness of conviction of +the man. + +I heard, in a day or two, that he had actually purchased a lot in the +cemetery, two or three miles below the city, that he had had a coffin +made, hired a hearse and carriage, and had gone through all the +solemnity of a regular funeral. For several days he continued to visit +the grave of his little friends, and mourned over them with a grief +which did not seem at all theatrical. + +Meantime he acted every night at the theatre, and my friends told me +that his acting was of unsurpassed excellence. A vein of insanity began, +however, to mingle in his conduct. His fellow-actors were afraid of +him. He looked terribly in earnest on the stage; and when he went behind +the scenes, he spoke to no one, but sat still, looking sternly at the +ground. During the day he walked about town, giving apples to the +horses, and talked to the drivers, urging them to treat their animals +with kindness. + +An incident happened, one day, which illustrated still further his +sympathy for the humbler races of animals. One of the sudden freshets +which come to the Ohio, caused commonly by heavy rains melting the snow +in the valleys of its tributary streams, had raised the river to an +unusual height. The yellow torrent rushed along its channel, bearing +on its surface logs, boards, and the _debris_ of fences, shanties, and +lumber-yards. A steamboat, forced by the rapid current against the stone +landing, had been stove, and lay a wreck on the bottom, with the water +rising rapidly around it. A horse had been left, fastened on the boat, +and it looked as if he would be drowned. Booth was on the landing, and +he took from his pocket twenty dollars, and offered it to any one who +would get to the boat and cut the halter, so that the horse might swim +ashore. Some one was found to do it, and the horse's life was saved. + +So this golden thread of human sympathy with all creatures whom God had +made ran through the darkening moods of his genius. He had well laid to +heart the fine moral of his favorite poem,--that + + "He prayeth well, who loveth well + Both man, and bird, and beast. + + "He prayeth best, who loveth best + All things, both great and small; + For the dear God, who loveth us, + He made and loveth all." + +In a week or less the tendency to derangement in Booth became more +developed. One night, when he was to act, he did not appear; nor could +he be found at his lodgings. He did not come home that night. Next +morning he was found in the woods, several miles from the city, +wandering through the snow. He was taken care of. His derangement proved +to be temporary, and his reason returned in a few days. He soon left the +city. But before he went away he sent to me the following note, which I +copy from the original faded paper, now lying before me:-- + +"--_Theatre_, + +"January 18, 1834. + +"MY DEAR SIR, + +"Allow me to return you my grateful acknowledgments for your prompt and +benevolent attention to my request last Wednesday night. Although I am +convinced _your_ ideas and _mine_ thoroughly coincide as to the _real_ +cause of man's bitter degradation, yet I fear human means to redeem him +are now fruitless. The Fire must burn, and Prometheus endure his agony. +The Pestilence of Asia must come again, ere the savage will be taught +humanity. May _you_ escape! God bless you, Sir! + +"J.B. BOOTH." + +Certainly I may call this "an odd adventure" for a young minister, +less than six months in his profession. But it left in my mind a very +pleasant impression of this great tragedian. It may be asked why he came +to me, the youngest and newest clergyman in the place. The reason he +gave me himself. I was a Unitarian. He said he had more sympathy with me +on that account, as he was of Jewish descent, and a Monotheist. + + + + +MY OUT-DOOR STUDY. + + +The noontide of the summer-day is past, when all Nature slumbers, and +when the ancients feared to sing, lest the great god Pan should be +awakened. Soft changes, the gradual shifting of every shadow on every +leaf, begin to show the waning hours. Ineffectual thunder-storms have +gathered and gone by, hopelessly defeated. The floating-bridge is +trembling and resounding beneath the pressure of one heavy wagon, and +the quiet fishermen change their places to avoid the tiny ripple that +glides stealthily to their feet above the half-submerged planks. Down +the glimmering lake there are miles of silence and still waters and +green shores, overhung with a multitudinous and scattered fleet of +purple and golden clouds, now furling their idle sails and drifting away +into the vast harbor of the South. Voices of birds, hushed first by +noon and then by possibilities of tempest, cautiously begin once more, +leading on the infinite melodies of the June afternoon. As the freshened +air invites them forth, so the smooth and stainless water summons us. +"Put your hand upon the oar," says Charon in the old play to Bacchus, +"and you shall hear the sweetest songs." The doors of the boathouse +swing softly open, and the slender wherry, like a water-snake, steals +silently in the wake of the dispersing clouds. + +The woods are hazy, as if the warm sunbeams had melted in among the +interstices of the foliage and spread a soft film throughout the whole. +The sky seems to reflect the water, and the water the sky; both are +roseate with color, both are darkened with clouds, and between them +both, as the boat recedes, the floating-bridge hangs suspended, with its +motionless fishermen and its moving team. The wooded islands are poised +upon the lake, each belted with a paler tint of softer wave. The air +seems fine and palpitating; the drop of an oar in a distant row-lock, +the sound of a hammer on a dismantled boat, pass into some region of +mist and shadows, and form a metronome for delicious dreams. + +Every summer I launch my boat to seek some realm of enchantment beyond +all the sordidness and sorrow of earth, and never yet did I fail to +ripple with my prow at least the outskirts of those magic waters. What +spell has fame or wealth to enrich this midday blessedness with a joy +the more? Yonder barefoot boy, as he drifts silently in his punt beneath +the drooping branches of yonder vine-clad bank, has a bliss which no +Astor can buy with money, no Seward conquer with votes,--which yet is +no monopoly of his, and to which time and experience only add a more +subtile and conscious charm. The rich years were given us to increase, +not to impair, these cheap felicities. Sad or sinful is the life of +that man who finds not the heavens bluer and the waves more musical in +maturity than in childhood. Time is a severe alembic of youthful joys, +no doubt; we exhaust book after book and leave Shakespeare unopened; we +grow fastidious in men and women; all the rhetoric, all the logic, we +fancy we have heard before; we have seen the pictures, we have listened +to the symphonies: but what has been done by all the art and literature +of the world towards describing one summer day? The most exhausting +effort brings us no nearer to it than to the blue sky which is its dome; +our words are shot up against it like arrows, and fall back helpless. +Literary amateurs go the tour of the globe to renew their stock of +materials, when they do not yet know a bird or a bee or a blossom beside +their homestead-door; and in the hour of their greatest success they +have not an horizon to their life so large as that of yon boy in his +punt. All that is purchasable in the capitals of the world is not to be +weighed in comparison with the simple enjoyment that may be crowded into +one hour of sunshine. What can place or power do here? "Who could be +before me, though the palace of Caesar cracked and split with emperors, +while I, sitting in silence on a cliff of Rhodes, watched the sun as he +swung his golden censer athwart the heavens?" + +It is pleasant to observe a sort of confused and latent recognition of +all this in the instinctive sympathy which is always rendered to any +indication of out-door pursuits. How cordially one sees the eyes of +all travellers turn to the man who enters the railroad-station with +a fowling-piece in hand, or the boy with water-lilies! There is a +momentary sensation of the freedom of the woods, a whiff of oxygen for +the anxious money-changers. How agreeably sounds the news--to all +but his creditors--that the lawyer or the merchant has locked his +office-door and gone fishing! The American temperament needs at this +moment nothing so much as that wholesome training of semi-rural life +which reared Hampden and Cromwell to assume at one grasp the sovereignty +of England, and which has ever since served as the foundation of +England's greatest ability. The best thoughts and purposes seem ordained +to come to human beings beneath the open sky, as the ancients fabled +that Pan found the goddess Ceres when he was engaged in the chase, whom +no other of the gods could find when seeking seriously. The little I +have gained from colleges and libraries has certainly not worn so well +as the little I learned in childhood of the habits of plant, bird, and +insect. That "weight and sanity of thought," which Coleridge so finely +makes the crowning attribute of Wordsworth, is in no way so well matured +and cultivated as in the society of Nature. + +There may be extremes and affectations, and Mary Lamb declared that +Wordsworth held it doubtful if a dweller in towns had a soul to be +saved. During the various phases of transcendental idealism among +ourselves, in the last twenty years, the love of Nature has at times +assumed an exaggerated and even a pathetic aspect, in the morbid +attempts of youths and maidens to make it a substitute for vigorous +thought and action,--a lion endeavoring to dine on grass and green +leaves. In some cases this mental chlorosis reached such a height as +almost to nauseate one with Nature, when in the society of the victims; +and surfeited companions felt inclined to rush to the treadmill +immediately, or get chosen on the Board of Selectmen, or plunge into any +conceivable drudgery, in order to feel that there was still work enough +in the universe to keep it sound and healthy. But this, after all, was +exceptional and transitory, and our American life still needs, beyond +all things else, the more habitual cultivation of out-door habits. + +Probably the direct ethical influence of natural objects may be +overrated. Nature is not didactic, but simply healthy. She helps +everything to its legitimate development, but applies no goads, and +forces on us no sharp distinctions. Her wonderful calmness, refreshing +the whole soul, must aid both conscience and intellect in the end, but +sometimes lulls both temporarily, when immediate issues are pending. The +waterfall cheers and purifies infinitely, but it marks no moments, has +no reproaches for indolence, forces to no immediate decision, offers +unbounded to-morrows, and the man of action must tear himself away, when +the time comes, since the work will not be done for him. "The natural +day is very calm, and will hardly reprove our indolence." + +And yet the more bent any man is upon action, the more profoundly he +needs the calm lessons of Nature to preserve his equilibrium. The +radical himself needs nothing so much as fresh air. The world is called +conservative; but it is far easier to impress a plausible thought on the +complaisance of others than to retain an unfaltering faith in it for +ourselves. The most dogged reformer distrusts himself every little +while, and says inwardly, like Luther, "Art thou alone wise?" So he is +compelled to exaggerate, in the effort to hold his own. The community is +bored by the conceit and egotism of the innovators; so it is by that of +poets and artists, orators and statesmen; but if we knew how heavily +ballasted all these poor fellows need to be, to keep an even keel amid +so many conflicting tempests of blame and praise, we should hardly +reproach them. But the simple enjoyments of out-door life, costing next +to nothing, tend to equalize all vexations. What matter, if the Governor +removes you from office? he cannot remove you from the lake; and if +readers or customers will not bite, the pickerel will. We must keep +busy, of course; yet we cannot transform the world except very slowly, +and we can best preserve our patience in the society of Nature, who does +her work almost as imperceptibly as we. + +And for literary training, especially, the influence of natural beauty +is simply priceless Under the present educational systems, we need +grammars and languages far less than a more thorough out-door experience. +On this flowery bank, on this ripple-marked shore, are the true literary +models. How many living authors have ever attained to writing a single +page which could be for one moment compared, for the simplicity and +grace of its structure, with this green spray of wild woodbine or yonder +white wreath of blossoming clematis? A finely organized sentence should +throb and palpitate like the most delicate vibrations of the summer +air. We talk of literature as if it were a mere matter of rule and +measurement, a series of processes long since brought to mechanical +perfection: but it would be less incorrect to say that it all lies +in the future; tried by the out-door standard, there is as yet no +literature, but only glimpses and guideboards; no writer has yet +succeeded in sustaining, through more than some single occasional +sentence, that fresh and perfect charm. If by the training of a lifetime +one could succeed in producing one continuous page of perfect cadence, +it would be a life well spent, and such a literary artist would fall +short of Nature's standard in quantity only, not in quality. + +It is one sign of our weakness, also, that we commonly assume Nature to +be a rather fragile and merely ornamental thing, and suited for a model +of the graces only. But her seductive softness is the last climax of +magnificent strength. The same mathematical law winds the leaves around +the stem and the planets round the sun. The same law of crystallization +rules the slight-knit snow-flake and the hard foundations of the earth. +The thistle-down floats secure upon the same summer zephyrs that are +woven into the tornado. The dew-drop holds within its transparent cell +the same electric fire which charges the thunder-cloud. In the softest +tree or the airiest waterfall, the fundamental lines are as lithe and +muscular as the crouching haunches of a leopard; and without a pencil +vigorous enough to render these, no mere mass of foam or foliage, +however exquisitely finished, can tell the story. Lightness of touch is +the crowning test of power. + +Yet Nature does not work by single spasms only. That chestnut spray is +not an isolated and exhaustive effort of creative beauty: look upward +and see its sisters rise with pile above pile of fresh and stately +verdure, till tree meets sky in a dome of glorious blossom, the whole as +perfect as the parts, the least part as perfect as the whole. Studying +the details, it seems as if Nature were a series of costly fragments +with no coherency,--as if she would never encourage us to do anything +systematically, would tolerate no method but her own, and yet had none +of her own,--were as abrupt in her transitions from oak to maple as +the heroine who went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf to make an +apple-pie; while yet there is no conceivable human logic so close +and inexorable as her connections. How rigid, how flexible are, for +instance, the laws of perspective! If one could learn to make his +statements as firm and unswerving as the horizon-line,--his continuity +of thought as marked, yet as unbroken, as yonder soft gradations by +which the eye is lured upward from lake to wood, from wood to hill, from +hill to heavens,--what more bracing tonic could literary culture demand? +As it is, Art misses the parts, yet does not grasp the whole. + +Literature also learns from Nature the use of materials: either to +select only the choicest and rarest, or to transmute coarse to fine by +skill in using. How perfect is the delicacy with which the woods and +fields are kept, throughout the year! All these millions of living +creatures born every season, and born to die; yet where are the dead +bodies? We never see them. Buried beneath the earth by tiny nightly +sextons, sunk beneath the waters, dissolved into the air, or distilled +again and again as food for other organizations,--all have had their +swift resurrection. Their existence blooms again in these violet-petals, +glitters in the burnished beauty of these golden beetles, or enriches +the veery's song. It is only out of doors that even death and decay +become beautiful. The model farm, the most luxurious house, have their +regions of unsightliness; but the fine chemistry of Nature is constantly +clearing away all its impurities before our eyes, and yet so delicately +that we never suspect the process. The most exquisite work of literary +art exhibits a certain crudeness and coarseness, when we turn to it from +Nature,--as the smallest cambric needle appears rough and jagged, +when compared through the magnifier with the tapering fineness of the +insect's sting. + +Once separated from Nature, literature recedes into metaphysics, or +dwindles into novels. How ignoble seems the current material of London +literary life, for instance, compared with the noble simplicity which, a +half-century ago, made the Lake Country an enchanted land forever! Is +it worth a voyage to England to sup with Thackeray in the Pot Tavern? +Compare the "enormity of pleasure" which De Quincey says Wordsworth +derived from the simplest natural object with the serious protest of +Wilkie Collins against the affectation of caring about Nature at all. +"Is it not strange", says this most unhappy man, "to see how little real +hold the objects of the natural world amidst which we live can gain on +our hearts and minds? We go to Nature for comfort in joy and sympathy +in trouble, only in books.... What share have the attractions of Nature +ever had in the pleasurable or painful interests and emotions of +ourselves or our friends?... There is surely a reason for this want of +inborn sympathy between the creature and the creation around it." + +Leslie says of "the most original landscape-painter he knew," meaning +Constable, that, whenever he sat down in the fields to sketch, he +endeavored to forget that he had ever seen a picture. In literature this +is easy, the descriptions are so few and so faint. When Wordsworth was +fourteen, he stopped one day by the wayside to observe the dark outline +of an oak against the western sky; and he says that he was at that +moment struck with "the infinite variety of natural appearances which +had been unnoticed by the poets of any age or country," so far as he was +acquainted with them, and "made a resolution to supply in some degree +the deficiency." He spent a long life in studying and telling these +beautiful wonders; and yet, so vast is the sum of them, they seem almost +as undescribed before, and men to be still as content with vague or +conventional representations. On this continent, especially, people +fancied that all must be tame and second-hand, everything long since +duly analyzed and distributed and put up in appropriate quotations, and +nothing left for us poor American children but a preoccupied universe. +And yet Thoreau camps down by Walden Pond and shows us that absolutely +nothing in Nature has ever yet been described,--not a bird nor a berry +of the woods, nor a drop of water, nor a spicula of ice, nor summer, nor +winter, nor sun, nor star. + +Indeed, no person can portray Nature from any slight or transient +acquaintance. A reporter cannot step out between the sessions of a +caucus and give a racy abstract of the landscape. It may consume the +best hours of many days to certify for one's self the simplest out-door +fact, but every such piece of knowledge is intellectually worth the +time. Even the driest and barest book of Natural History is good and +nutritious, so far as it goes, if it represents genuine acquaintance; +one can find summer in January by poring over the Latin catalogues +of Massachusetts plants and animals in Hitchcock's Report. The most +commonplace out-door society has the same attraction. Every one of those +old outlaws who haunt our New England ponds and marshes, water-soaked +and soakers of something else,--intimate with the pure fluid in that +familiarity which breeds contempt,--has yet a wholesome side when you +explore his knowledge of frost and freshet, pickerel and musk-rat, and +is exceedingly good company while you can keep him beyond scent of the +tavern. Any intelligent farmer's boy can give you some narrative +of out-door observation which, so far as it goes, fulfils Milton's +definition of poetry, "simple, sensuous, passionate." He may not write +sonnets to the lake, but he will walk miles to bathe in it; he may not +notice the sunsets, but he knows where to search for the black-bird's +nest. How surprised the school-children looked, to be sure, when the +Doctor of Divinity from the city tried to sentimentalize, in addressing +them, about "the bobolink in the woods"! They knew that the darling of +the meadow had no more personal acquaintance with the woods than was +exhibited by the preacher. + +But the preachers are not much worse than the authors. The prosaic +Buckle, to be sure, admits that the poets have in all time been +consummate observers, and that their observations have been as valuable +as those of the men of science; and yet we look even to the poets +for very casual and occasional glimpses of Nature only, not for any +continuous reflection of her glory. Thus, Chaucer is perfumed with early +spring; Homer resounds like the sea; in the Greek Anthology the sun +always shines on the fisherman's cottage by the beach; we associate the +Vishnu Purana with lakes and houses, Keats with nightingales in forest +dim, while the long grass waving on the lonely heath is the last +memorial of the fading fame of Ossian. Of course Shakspeare's +omniscience included all natural phenomena; but the rest, great or +small, associate themselves with some special aspects, and not with the +daily atmosphere. Coming to our own times, one must quarrel with Ruskin +as taking rather the artist's view of Nature, selecting the available +bits and dealing rather patronizingly with the whole; and one is tempted +to charge even Emerson, as he somewhere charges Wordsworth, with not +being of a temperament quite liquid and musical enough to admit the full +vibration of the great harmonics. The three human foster-children who +have been taken nearest into Nature's bosom, perhaps,--an odd triad, +surely, for the whimsical nursing mother to select,--are Wordsworth, +Bettine Brentano, and Thoreau. Is it yielding to an individual +preference too far, to say, that there seems almost a generic difference +between these three and any others,--however wide be the specific +differences among themselves,--to say that, after all, they in their +several paths have attained to an habitual intimacy with Nature, and the +rest have not? + +Yet what wonderful achievements have some of the fragmentary artists +performed! Some of Tennyson's word-pictures, for instance, bear almost +as much study as the landscape. One afternoon, last spring, I had been +walking through a copse of young white birches,--their leaves scarce yet +apparent,--over a ground delicate with wood-anemones, moist and mottled +with dog's-tooth-violet leaves, and spangled with the delicate clusters +of that shy creature, the Claytonia or Spring Beauty. All this was +floored with last year's faded foliage, giving a singular bareness +and whiteness to the foreground. Suddenly, as if entering a cavern, I +stepped through the edge of all this, into a dark little amphitheatre +beneath a hemlock-grove, where the afternoon sunlight struck broadly +through the trees upon a tiny stream and a miniature swamp,--this last +being intensely and luridly green, yet overlaid with the pale gray of +last year's reeds, and absolutely flaming with the gayest yellow light +from great clumps of cowslips. The illumination seemed perfectly weird +and dazzling; the spirit of the place appeared live, wild, fantastic, +almost human. Now open your Tennyson:-- + + "_And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire + in swamps and hollows gray_." + +Our cowslip is the English marsh-marigold. + +History is a grander poetry, and it is often urged that the features of +Nature in America must seem tame because they have no legendary wreaths +to decorate them. It is perhaps hard for those of us who are untravelled +to appreciate how densely even the ruralities of Europe are overgrown +with this ivy of associations. Thus, it is fascinating to hear that +the great French forests of Fontainebleau and St. Germain are full of +historic trees,--the oak of Charlemagne, the oak of Clovis, of Queen +Blanche, of Henri Quatre, of Sully,--the alley of Richelieu,--the +rendezvous of St. Herem,--the star of Lamballe and of the Princesses, +a star being a point where several paths or roads converge. It is said +that every topographical work upon these forests has turned out a +history of the French monarchy. Yet surely we lose nearly as much as +we gain by this subordination of imperishable beauty to the perishable +memories of man. It may not be wholly unfortunate, that, in the +absence of those influences which come to older nations from ruins and +traditions, we must go more directly to Nature. Art may either rest upon +other Art, or it may rest directly upon the original foundation; the one +is easier, the other more valuable. Direct dependence on Nature leads +to deeper thought and affords the promise of far fresher results. Why +should I wish to fix my study in Heidelberg Castle, when I possess the +unexhausted treasures of this out-door study here? + +The walls of my study are of ever-changing verdure, and its roof and +floor of ever-varying blue. I never enter it without a new heaven above +and new thoughts below. The lake has no lofty shores and no level ones, +but a series of undulating hills, fringed with woods from end to end. +The profaning axe may sometimes come near the margin, and one may hear +the whetting of the scythe; but no cultivated land abuts upon the main +lake, though beyond the narrow woods there are here and there glimpses +of rye-fields that wave like rolling mist. Graceful islands rise from +the quiet waters,--Grape Island, Grass Island, Sharp Pine Island, +and the rest, baptized with simple names by departed generations of +farmers,--all wooded and bushy and trailing with festoonery of vines. +Here and there the banks are indented, and one may pass beneath drooping +chestnut-leaves and among alder-branches into some secret sanctuary of +stillness. The emerald edges of these silent tarns are starred with +dandelions which have strayed here, one scarce knows how, from their +foreign home; the buck-bean perchance grows in the water, or the Rhodora +fixes here one of its shy camping-places, or there are whole skies of +lupine on the sloping banks;--the catbird builds its nest beside us, +the yellow-bird above, the wood-thrush sings late and the whippoorwill +later, and sometimes the scarlet tanager and his golden-haired bride +send a gleam of the tropics through these leafy aisles. + +Sometimes I rest in a yet more secluded place amid the waters, where +a little wooded island holds a small lagoon in the centre, just wide +enough for the wherry to turn round. The entrance lies between two +hornbeam trees, which stand close to the brink, spreading over it their +thorn-like branches and their shining leaves. Within there is perfect +shelter; the island forms a high circular bank, like a coral reef, and +shuts out the wind and the passing boats; the surface is paved with +leaves of lily and pond-weed, and the boughs above are full of song. No +matter what white caps may crest the blue waters of the pond, which here +widens out to its broadest reach, there is always quiet here. A few +oar-strokes distant lies a dam or water-break, where the whole lake is +held under control by certain distant mills, towards which a sluggish +stream goes winding on through miles of water-lilies. The old gray +timbers of the dam are the natural resort of every boy or boatman within +their reach; some come in pursuit of pickerel, some of turtles, some of +bull-frogs, some of lilies, some of bathing. It is a good place for the +last desideratum, and it is well to leave here the boat tethered to +the vines which overhang the cove, and perform a sacred and Oriental +ablution beneath the sunny afternoon. + +Oh, radiant and divine afternoon! The poets profusely celebrate silver +evenings and golden mornings; but what floods on floods of beauty steep +the earth and gladden it in the first hours of day's decline! The +exuberant rays reflect and multiply themselves from every leaf and +blade; the cows lie upon the hill-side, with their broad peaceful backs +painted into the landscape; the hum of insects, "tiniest bells on the +garment of silence," fills the air; the gorgeous butterflies doze upon +the thistle-blooms till they almost fall from the petals; the air is +full of warm fragrance from the wild-grape clusters; the grass is +burning hot beneath the naked feet in sunshine, and cool as water in the +shade. Diving from this overhanging beam,--for Ovid evidently meant that +Midas to be cured must dive,-- + + "Subde caput, corpusque simul, simul elue + crinem,"-- + +one finds as kindly a reception from the water as in childish days, and +as safe a shelter in the green dressing-room afterwards; and the patient +wherry floats near by, in readiness for a reembarkation. + +Here a word seems needed, unprofessionally and non-technically, upon +boats,--these being the sole seats provided for occupant or visitor in +my out-door study. When wherries first appeared in this peaceful inland +community, the novel proportions occasioned remark. Facetious bystanders +inquired sarcastically whether that thing were expected to carry +more than one,--plainly implying by labored emphasis that it would +occasionally be seen tenanted by even less than that number. +Transcendental friends inquired, with more refined severity, if the +proprietor expected to _meditate_ in that thing? This doubt at least +seemed legitimate. Meditation seems to belong to sailing rather than +rowing; there is something so gentle and unintrusive in gliding +effortless beneath overhanging branches and along the trailing edges of +clematis thickets;--what a privilege of fairy-land is this noiseless +prow, looking in and out of one flowery cove after another, scarcely +stirring the turtle from his log, and leaving no wake behind! It seemed +as if all the process of rowing had too much noise and bluster, and as +if the sharp slender wherry, in particular, were rather too pert and +dapper to win the confidence of the woods and waters. Time has dispelled +the fear. As I rest poised upon the oars above some submerged shallow, +diamonded with ripple-broken sunbeams, the fantastic Notonecta or +water-boatman rests upon his oars below, and I see that his proportions +anticipated the wherry, as honeycombs antedated the problem of the +hexagonal cell. While one of us rests, so does the other; and when one +shoots away rapidly above the water, the other does the same beneath. +For the time, as our motions seem the same, so with our motives,--my +enjoyment certainly not less, with the conveniences of humanity thrown +in. + +But the sun is declining low. The club-boats are out, and from island +to island in the distance these shafts of youthful life shoot swiftly +across. There races some swift Atalanta, with no apple to fall in her +path but some soft and spotted oak-apple from an overhanging tree; there +the Phantom, with a crew white and ghostlike in the distance, glimmers +in and out behind the headlands, while yonder wherry glides lonely +across the smooth expanse. The voices of all these oarsmen are dim and +almost inaudible, being so far away; but one would scarcely wish that +distance should annihilate the ringing laughter of these joyous +girls, who come gliding, in a safe and heavy boat, they and some blue +dragon-flies together, around yonder wooded point. + +Many a summer afternoon have I rowed joyously with these same maidens +beneath these steep and garlanded shores; many a time have they pulled +the heavy four-oar, with me as coxswain at the helm,--the said patient +steersman being oft-times insulted by classical allusions from rival +boats, satirically comparing him to an indolent Venus drawn by doves, +while the oarswomen in turn were likened to Minerva with her feet upon +a tortoise. Many were the disasters in the earlier days of feminine +training;--first of toilet, straw hats blowing away, hair coming down, +hair-pins strewing the floor of the boat, gloves commonly happening to +be off at the precise moment of starting, and trials of speed impaired +by somebody's oar catching in somebody's dress-pocket. Then the actual +difficulties of handling the long and heavy oars,--the first essays +at feathering, with a complicated splash of air and water, as when a +wild-duck in rising swims and flies together, and uses neither element +handsomely,--the occasional pulling of a particularly vigorous stroke +through the atmosphere alone, and at other times the compensating +disappearance of nearly the whole oar beneath the liquid surface, as if +some Uncle Kuehleborn had grasped it, while our Undine by main strength +tugged it from the beguiling wave. But with what triumphant abundance +of merriment were these preliminary disasters repaid, and how soon +outgrown! What "time" we sometimes made, when nobody happened to be near +with a watch, and how successfully we tossed oars in saluting, when the +world looked on from a pic-nic! We had our applauses, too. To be sure, +owing to the age and dimensions of the original barge, we could not +command such a burst of enthusiasm as when the young men shot by us in +their race-boat;--but then, as one of the girls justly remarked, we +remained longer in sight. + +And many a day, since promotion to a swifter craft, have they rowed with +patient stroke down the lovely lake, still attended by their guide, +philosopher, and coxswain,--along banks where herds of young birch-trees +overspread the sloping valley and ran down in a blaze of sunshine to the +rippling water,--or through the Narrows, where some breeze rocked the +boat till trailing shawls and ribbons were water-soaked, and the bold +little foam would even send a daring drop over the gunwale, to play at +ocean,--or to Davis's Cottage, where a whole parterre of lupines bloomed +to the water's edge, as if relics of some ancient garden-bower of a +forgotten race,--or to the dam by Lily Pond, there to hunt among the +stones for snakes' eggs, each empty shell cut crosswise, where the +young creatures had made their first fierce bite into the universe +outside,--or to some island, where white violets bloomed fragrant and +lonely, separated by relentless breadths of water from their shore-born +sisters, until mingled in their visitors' bouquets,--then up the lake +homeward again at nightfall, the boat all decked with clematis, clethra, +laurel, azalea, or water-lilies, while purple sunset clouds turned forth +their golden linings for drapery above our heads, and then unrolling +sent northward long roseate wreaths to outstrip our loitering speed, and +reach the floating-bridge before us. + +It is nightfall now. One by one the birds grow silent, and the soft +dragon-flies, children of the day, are fluttering noiselessly to their +rest beneath the under sides of drooping leaves. From shadowy coves the +evening air is thrusting forth a thin film of mist to spread a white +floor above the waters. The gathering darkness deepens the quiet of the +lake, and bids us, at least for this time, to forsake it. "_De soir +fontaines, de matin montaignes_," says the old French proverb,--Morning +for labor, evening for repose. + + + + +A SERMON IN A STONE. + + + Harry Jones and Tom Murdock got down from the cars, + Near a still country village, and lit their cigars. + They had left the hot town for a stroll and a chat, + And wandered on looking at this and at that,-- + Plumed grass with pink clover that waltzed in the breeze, + Ruby currants in gardens, and pears on the trees,-- + Till a green church-yard showed them its sun-checkered gloom, + And in they both went and sat down on a tomb. + The dead name was mossy; the letters were dim; + But they spelled out "James Woodson," and mused upon him, + Till Harry said, poring, "I wish I could know + What manner of man used the bones down below." + Answered Tom,--as he took his cigar from his lip + And tapped off the ashes that crusted the tip, + His quaint face somewhat shaded with awe and with mystery,-- + "You shall hear, if you will, the main points in his story."-- + "You don't mean you knew him? You could not! See here! + Why, this, since he died, is the thirtieth year!"-- + "I never saw him, nor the place where he lay, + Nor heard of nor thought of the man, till to-day; + But I'll tell you his story, and leave it to you + If 'tis not ten to one that my story is true. + + "The man whose old mould underneath us is hid + Meant a great deal more good and less harm than he did. + He knelt in yon church 'mid the worshipping throng, + And vowed to do right, but went out to do wrong; + For, going up of a Sunday to look at the gate + Of Saints' Alley, he stuck there and found it was strait, + And slid back of a Monday to walk in the way + That is popular, populous, smooth-paved, and gay. + The flesh it was strong, but the spirit was faint. + He first was too young, then too old, for a saint. + He wished well by his neighbors, did well by himself, + And hoped for salvation, and struggled for pelf; + And easy Tomorrow still promised to pay + The still swelling debts of his bankrupt Today, + Till, bestriding the deep sudden chasm that is fixed + The sunshiny world and the shadowy betwixt, + His Today with a pale wond'ring face stood alone, + And over the border Tomorrow had flown. + So after went he, his accounts as he could + To settle and make his loose reckonings good, + And left us his tomb and his skeleton under,-- + Two boons to his race,--to sit down on and ponder. + Heaven help him! Yet heaven, I fear, he hath lost. + Here lies his poor dust; but where cries his poor ghost? + We know not. Perhaps we shall see by-and-by, + When out of our coffins we get, you and I." + + + + +AGNES OF SORRENTO. + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE INTERVIEW. + + +The dreams of Agnes, on the night after her conversation with the monk +and her singular momentary interview with the cavalier, were a strange +mixture of images, indicating the peculiarities of her education and +habits of daily thought. + +She dreamed that she was sitting alone in the moonlight, and heard some +one rustling in the distant foliage of the orange-groves, and from them +came a young man dressed in white of a dazzling clearness like sunlight; +large pearly wings fell from his shoulders and seemed to shimmer with +a phosphoric radiance; his forehead was broad and grave, and above it +floated a thin, tremulous tongue of flame; his eyes had that deep, +mysterious gravity which is so well expressed in all the Florentine +paintings of celestial beings: and yet, singularly enough, this +white-robed, glorified form seemed to have the features and lineaments +of the mysterious cavalier of the evening before,--the same deep, +mournful, dark eyes, only that in them the light of earthly pride had +given place to the calm, strong gravity of an assured peace,--the same +broad forehead,--the same delicately chiselled features, but elevated +and etherealized, glowing with a kind of interior ecstasy. He seemed to +move from the shadow of the orange-trees with a backward floating of his +lustrous garments, as if borne on a cloud just along the surface of +the ground; and in his hand he held the lily-spray, all radiant with a +silvery, living light, just as the monk had suggested to her a divine +flower might be. Agnes seemed to herself to hold her breath and marvel +with a secret awe, and, as often happens in dreams, she wondered to +herself,--"Was this stranger, then, indeed, not even mortal, not even a +king's brother, but an angel?--How strange," she said to herself, "that +I should never have seen it in his eyes!" Nearer and nearer the vision +drew, and touched her forehead with the lily, which seemed dewy and +icy cool; and with the contact it seemed to her that a delicious +tranquillity, a calm ecstasy, possessed her soul, and the words were +impressed in her mind, as if spoken in her ear, "The Lord hath sealed +thee for his own!"--and then, with the wild fantasy of dreams, she saw +the cavalier in his wonted form and garments, just as he had kneeled to +her the night before, and he said, "Oh, Agnes! Agnes! little lamb of +Christ, love me and lead me!"--and in her sleep it seemed to her that +her heart stirred and throbbed with a strange, new movement in answer to +those sad, pleading eyes, and thereafter her dream became more troubled. + +The sea was beginning now to brighten with the reflection of the coming +dawn in the sky, and the flickering fire of Vesuvius was waxing sickly +and pale; and while all the high points of rocks were turning of a rosy +purple, in the weird depths of the gorge were yet the unbroken shadows +and stillness of night. But at the earliest peep of dawn the monk had +risen, and now, as he paced up and down the little garden, his morning +hymn mingled with Agnes's dreams,--words strong with all the nerve of +the old Latin, which, when they were written, had scarcely ceased to be +the spoken tongue of Italy. + + Splendor paternae gloriae, + De luce lucem proferens, + Lux lucis et fons luminis + Dies diem illuminans! + + "Votis vocemus et Patrem, + Patrem potentis gratiae, + Patrem perennis gloriae: + Culpam releget lubricam! + + "Confirmet actus strenuos, + Dentes retundat invidi, + Casus secundet asperos, + Donet gerendi gratiam! + + "Christus nobis sit cibus, + Potusque noster sit fides: + Laeti bibamus sobriam + Ebrietatem spiritus! + + "Laetus dies hic transeat, + Pudor sit ut diluculum, + Fides velut meridies, + Crepusculum mens nesciat!"[A] + +[Footnote A: + + Splendor of the Father's glory, + Bringing light with cheering ray, + Light of light and fount of brightness, + Day, illuminating day! + + In our prayers we call thee Father, + Father of eternal glory, + Father of a mighty grace: + Heal our errors, we implore thee! + + Form our struggling, vague desires; + Power of spiteful spirits break; + Help us in life's straits, and give us + Grace to suffer for thy sake! + + Christ for us shall be our food; + Faith in him our drink shall be; + Hopeful, joyful, let us drink + Soberness of ecstasy! + + Joyful shall our day go by, + Purity its dawning light, + Faith its fervid noontide glow, + And for us shall be no night!] + +The hymn in every word well expressed the character and habitual pose +of mind of the singer, whose views of earthly matters were as different +from the views of ordinary working mortals as those of a bird, as he +flits and perches and sings, must be from those of the four-footed +ox who plods. The "_sobriam ebrietatem spiritus_" was with him first +constitutional, as a child of sunny skies, and then cultivated by every +employment and duty of the religious and artistic career to which from +childhood he had devoted himself. If perfect, unalloyed happiness has +ever existed in this weary, work-day world of ours, it has been in the +bosoms of some of those old religious artists of the Middle Ages, whose +thoughts grew and flowered in prayerful shadows, bursting into thousands +of quaint and fanciful blossoms on the pages of missal and breviary. In +them the fine life of color, form, and symmetry, which is the gift of +the Italian, formed a rich stock on which to graft the true vine of +religious faith, and rare and fervid were the blossoms. + +For it must be remarked in justice of the Christian religion, that the +Italian people never rose to the honors of originality in the beautiful +arts till inspired by Christianity. The Art of ancient Rome was a +second-hand copy of the original and airy Greek,--often clever, but +never vivid and self-originating. It is to the religious Art of the +Middle Ages, to the Umbrian and Florentine schools particularly, that we +look for the peculiar and characteristic flowering of the Italian mind. +When the old Greek Art revived again in modern Europe, though at first +it seemed to add richness and grace to this peculiar development, it +smothered and killed it at last, as some brilliant tropical parasite +exhausts the life of the tree it seems at first to adorn. Raphael and +Michel Angelo mark both the perfected splendor and the commenced decline +of original Italian Art; and just in proportion as their ideas grew less +Christian and more Greek did the peculiar vividness and intense flavor +of Italian nationality pass away from them. They became again like the +ancient Romans, gigantic imitators and clever copyists, instead of +inspired kings and priests of a national development. + +The tones of the monk's morning hymn awakened both Agnes and Elsie, and +the latter was on the alert instantly. + +"Bless my soul!" she said, "brother Antonio has a marvellous power of +lungs; he is at it the first thing in the morning. It always used to be +so; when he was a boy, he would wake me up before daylight, singing. + +"He is happy, like the birds," said Agnes, "because he flies near +heaven." + +"Like enough: he was always a pious boy; his prayers and his pencil were +ever uppermost: but he was a poor hand at work: he could draw you an +olive-tree on paper; but set him to dress it, and any fool would have +done better." + +The morning rites of devotion and the simple repast being over, Elsie +prepared to go to her business. It had occurred to her that the visit +of her brother was an admirable pretext for withdrawing Agnes from the +scene of her daily traffic, and of course, as she fondly supposed, +keeping her from the sight of the suspected admirer. + +Neither Agnes nor the monk had disturbed her serenity by recounting the +adventure of the evening before. Agnes had been silent from the habitual +reserve which a difference of nature ever placed between her and her +grandmother,--a difference which made confidence on her side an utter +impossibility. There are natures which ever must be silent to other +natures, because there is no common language between them. In the same +house, at the same board, sharing the same pillow even, are those +forever strangers and foreigners whose whole stock of intercourse is +limited to a few brief phrases on the commonest material wants of life, +and who, as soon as they try to go farther, have no words that are +mutually understood. + +"Agnes," said her grandmother, "I shall not need you at the stand +to-day. There is that new flax to be spun, and you may keep company with +your uncle. I'll warrant me, you'll be glad enough of that!" + +"Certainly I shall," said Agnes, cheerfully. "Uncle's comings are my +holidays." + +"I will show you somewhat further on my Breviary," said the monk. +"Praised be God, many new ideas sprang up in my mind last night, and +seemed to shoot forth in blossoms. Even my dreams have often been made +fruitful in this divine work." + +"Many a good thought comes in dreams," said Elsie; "but, for my part, I +work too hard and sleep too sound to get much that way." + +"Well, brother," said Elsie, after breakfast, "you must look well after +Agnes to-day; for there be plenty of wolves go round, hunting these +little lambs." + +"Have no fear, sister," said the monk, tranquilly; "the angels have +her in charge. If our eyes were only clear-sighted, we should see that +Christ's little ones are never alone." + +"All that is fine talk, brother; but I never found that the angels +attended to any of my affairs, unless I looked after them pretty sharp +myself; and as for girls, the dear Lord knows they need a legion apiece +to look after them. What with roystering fellows and smooth-tongued +gallants, and with silly, empty-headed hussies like that Giulietta, one +has much ado to keep the best of them straight. Agnes is one of the +best, too,--a well-brought up, pious, obedient girl, and industrious +as a bee. Happy is the husband who gets her. I would I knew a man good +enough for her." + +This conversation took place while Agnes was in the garden picking +oranges and lemons, and filling the basket which her grandmother was to +take to the town. The silver ripple of a hymn that she was singing came +through the open door; it was part of a sacred ballad in honor of Saint +Agnes:-- + + "Bring me no pearls to bind my hair, + No sparkling jewels bring to me! + Dearer by far the blood-red rose + That speaks of Him who died for me. + + "Ah! vanish every earthly love, + All earthly dreams forgotten be! + My heart is gone beyond the stars, + To live with Him who died for me." + +"Hear you now, sister," said the monk, "how the Lord keeps the door of +this maiden's heart? There is no fear of her; and I much doubt, sister, +whether you would do well to interfere with the evident call this child +hath to devote herself wholly to the Lord." + +"Oh, you talk, brother Antonio, who never had a child in your life, +and don't know how a mother's heart warms towards her children and her +children's children! The saints, as I said, must be reasonable, and +oughtn't to be putting vocations into the head of an old woman's only +staff and stay; and if they oughtn't to, why, then, they won't. Agnes is +a pious child, and loves her prayers and hymns; and so she will love her +husband, one of these days, as an honest woman should." + +"But you know, sister, that the highest seats in Paradise are reserved +for the virgins who follow the Lamb." + +"Maybe so," said Elsie, stiffly; "but the lower seats are good enough +for Agnes and me. For my part, I would rather have a little comfort as I +go along, and put up with less in Paradise, (may our dear Lady bring us +safely there!) say I." + +So saying, Elsie raised the large, square basket of golden fruit to +her head, and turned her stately figure towards the scene of her daily +labors. + +The monk seated himself on the garden-wall, with his portfolio by his +side, and seemed busily sketching and retouching some of his ideas. +Agnes wound some silvery-white flax round her distaff, and seated +herself near him under an orange-tree; and while her small fingers were +twisting the flax, her large, thoughtful eyes were wandering off on the +deep blue sea, pondering over and over the strange events of the day +before, and the dreams of the night. + +"Dear child," said the monk, "have you thought more of what I said to +you?" + +A deep blush suffused her cheek as she answered,-- + +"Yes, uncle; and I had a strange dream last night." + +"A dream, my little heart? Come, then, and tell it to its uncle. Dreams +are the hushing of the bodily senses, that the eyes of the Spirit may +open." + +"Well, then," said Agnes, "I dreamed that I sat pondering as I did last +evening in the moonlight, and that an angel came forth from the trees"-- + +"Indeed!" said the monk, looking up with interest; "what form had he?" + +"He was a young man, in dazzling white raiment, and his eyes were deep +as eternity, and over his forehead was a silver flame, and he bore a +lily-stalk in his hand, which was like what you told of, with light in +itself." + +"That must have been the holy Gabriel," said the monk, "the angel that +came to our blessed Mother. Did he say aught?" + +"Yes, he touched my forehead with the lily, and a sort of cool rest and +peace went all through me, and he said, 'The Lord hath sealed thee for +his own!'" + +"Even so," said the monk, looking up, and crossing himself devoutly, "by +this token I know that my prayers are answered." + +"But, dear uncle," said Agnes, hesitating and blushing painfully, "there +was one singular thing about my dream,--this holy angel had yet a +strange likeness to the young man that came here last night, so that I +could not but marvel at it." + +"It may be that the holy angel took on him in part this likeness to show +how glorious a redeemed soul might become, that you might be encouraged +to pray. The holy Saint Monica thus saw the blessed Augustine standing +clothed in white among the angels while he was yet a worldling and +unbeliever, and thereby received the grace to continue her prayers for +thirty years, till she saw him a holy bishop. This is a sure sign that +this young man, whoever he may be, shall attain Paradise through your +prayers. Tell me, dear little heart, is this the first angel thou hast +seen?" + +"I never dreamed of them before. I have dreamed of our Lady, and Saint +Agnes, and Saint Catharine of Siena; and sometimes it seemed that they +sat a long time by my bed, and sometimes it seemed that they took me +with them away to some beautiful place where the air was full of music, +and sometimes they filled my hands with such lovely flowers that when I +waked I was ready to weep that they could no more be found. Why, dear +uncle, do _you_ see angels often?" + +"Not often, dear child, but sometimes a little glimpse. But you should +see the pictures of our holy Father Angelico, to whom the angels +appeared constantly; for so blessed was the life he lived, that it was +more in heaven than on earth. He would never cumber his mind with the +things of this world, and would not paint for money, nor for prince's +favor; nor would he take places of power and trust in the Church, or +else, so great was his piety, they had made a bishop of him; but he kept +ever aloof and walked in the shade. He used to say, 'They that would do +Christ's work must walk with Christ.' His pictures of angels are indeed +wonderful, and their robes are of all dazzling colors, like the rainbow. +It is most surely believed among us that he painted to show forth what +he saw in heavenly visions." + +"Ah!" said Agnes, "how I wish I could see some of these things!" + +"You may well say so, dear child. There is one picture of Paradise +painted on gold, and there you may see our Lord in the midst of the +heavens crowning his blessed Mother, and all the saints and angels +surrounding; and the colors are so bright that they seem like the sunset +clouds,--golden, and rosy, and purple, and amethystine, and green like +the new, tender leaves of spring: for, you see, the angels are the +Lord's flowers and birds that shine and sing to gladden his Paradise, +and there is nothing bright on earth that is comparable to them,--so +said the blessed Angelico, who saw them. And what seems worthy of note +about them is their marvellous lightness, that they seem to float as +naturally as the clouds do, and their garments have a divine grace of +motion like vapor that curls and wavers in the sun. Their faces, too, +are most wonderful; for they seem so full of purity and majesty, and +withal humble, with an inexpressible sweetness; for, beyond all others, +it was given to the holy Angelico to paint the immortal beauty of the +soul." + +"It must be a great blessing and favor for you, dear uncle, to see all +these things," said Agnes; "I am never tired of hearing you tell of +them." + +"There is one little picture," said the monk, "wherein he hath painted +the death of our dear Lady; and surely no mortal could ever conceive +anything like her sweet dying face, so faint and weak and tender that +each man sees his own mother dying there, yet so holy that one feels +that it can be no other than the mother of our Lord; and around her +stand the disciples mourning; but above is our blessed Lord himself, who +receives the parting spirit, as a tender new-born babe, into his bosom: +for so the holy painters represented the death of saints, as of a birth +in which each soul became a little child of heaven." + +"How great grace must come from such pictures!" said Agnes. "It seems +to me that the making of such holy things is one of the most blessed of +good works.--Dear uncle," she said, after a pause, "they say that this +deep gorge is haunted by evil spirits, who often waylay and bewilder the +unwary, especially in the hours of darkness." + +"I should not wonder in the least," said the monk; "for you must know, +child, that our beautiful Italy was of old so completely given up and +gone over to idolatry that even her very soil casts up fragments of +temples and stones that have been polluted. Especially around these +shores there is scarcely a spot that hath not been violated in all times +by vilenesses and impurities such as the Apostle saith it is a shame +even to speak of. These very waters cast up marbles and fragments of +colored mosaics from the halls which were polluted with devil-worship +and abominable revellings; so that, as the Gospel saith that the evil +spirits cast out by Christ walk through waste places, so do they cling +to these fragments of their old estate." + +"Well, uncle, I have longed to consecrate the gorge to Christ by having +a shrine there, where I might keep a lamp burning." + +"It is a most pious thought, child." + +"And so, dear uncle, I thought that you would undertake the work. There +is one Pietro hereabout who is a skilful worker in stone, and was a +playfellow of mine,--though of late grandmamma has forbidden me to talk +with him,--and I think he would execute it under your direction." + +"Indeed, my little heart, it shall be done," said the monk, cheerfully; +"and I will engage to paint a fair picture of our Lady to be within; and +I think it would be a good thought to have a pinnacle on the outside, +where should stand a statue of Saint Michael with his sword. Saint +Michael is a brave and wonderful angel, and all the devils and vile +spirits are afraid of him. I will set about the devices to-day." + +And cheerily the good monk began to intone a verse of an old hymn,-- + + "Sub tutela Michaelis, + Pax in terra, pax in coelis."[B] + +[Footnote B: + + "'Neath Saint Michael's watch is given + Peace on earth and peace in heaven."] + +In such talk and work the day passed away to Agnes; but we will not say +that she did not often fall into deep musings on the mysterious visitor +of the night before. Often while the good monk was busy at his drawing, +the distaff would droop over her knee and her large dark eyes become +intently fixed on the ground, as if she were pondering some absorbing +subject. + +Little could her literal, hard-working grandmother, or her artistic, +simple-minded uncle, or the dreamy Mother Theresa, or her austere +confessor, know of the strange forcing process which they were all +together uniting to carry on in the mind of this sensitive young girl. +Absolutely secluded by her grandmother's watchful care from any actual +knowledge and experience of real life, she had no practical tests by +which to correct the dreams of that inner world in which she delighted +to live and move, and which was peopled with martyrs, saints, and +angels, whose deeds were possible or probable only in the most exalted +regions of devout poetry. + +So she gave her heart at once and without reserve to an enthusiastic +desire for the salvation of the stranger, whom Heaven, she believed, had +directed to seek her intercessions; and when the spindle drooped from +her hand, and her eyes became fixed on vacancy, she found herself +wondering who he might really be, and longing to know yet a little more +of him. + +Towards the latter part of the afternoon, a hasty messenger came to +summon her uncle to administer the last rites to a man who had just +fallen from a building, and who, it was feared, might breathe his last +unshriven. + +"Dear daughter, I must hasten and carry Christ to this poor sinner," +said the monk, hastily putting all his sketches and pencils into her +lap. "Have a care of these till I return,--that is my good little one!" + +Agnes carefully arranged the sketches and put them into the book, and +then, kneeling before the shrine, began prayers for the soul of the +dying man. + +She prayed long and fervently, and so absorbed did she become, that she +neither saw nor heard anything that passed around her. + +It was, therefore, with a start of surprise, as she rose from prayer, +that she saw the cavalier sitting on one end of the marble sarcophagus, +with an air so composed and melancholy that he might have been taken for +one of the marble knights that sometimes are found on tombs. + +"You are surprised to see me, dear Agnes," he said, with a calm, slow +utterance, like a man who has assumed a position he means fully to +justify; "but I have watched day and night, ever since I saw you, to +find one moment to speak with you alone." + +"My Lord," said Agnes, "I humbly wait your pleasure. Anything that a +poor maiden may rightly do I will endeavor, in all loving duty." + +"Whom do you take me for, Agnes, that you speak thus?" said the +cavalier, smiling sadly. + +"Are you not the brother of our gracious King?" said Agnes. + +"No, dear maiden; and if the kind promise you lately made me is founded +on this mistake, it may be retracted." + +"No, my Lord," said Agnes,--"though I now know not who you are, yet if +in any strait or need you seek such poor prayers as mine, God forbid I +should refuse them!" + +"I am, indeed, in strait and need, Agnes; the sun does not shine on a +more desolate man than I am,--one more utterly alone in the world; there +is no one left to love me. Agnes, can you not love me a little?--let it +be ever so little, it shall content me." + +It was the first time that words of this purport had ever been addressed +to Agnes; but they were said so simply, so sadly, so tenderly, that they +somehow seemed to her the most natural and proper things in the world +to be said; and this poor handsome knight, who looked so earnest and +sorrowful,--how could she help answering, "Yes"? From her cradle she had +always loved everybody and every thing, and why should an exception be +made in behalf of a very handsome, very strong, yet very gentle and +submissive human being, who came and knocked so humbly at the door +of her heart? Neither Mary nor the saints had taught her to be +hard-hearted. + +"Yes, my Lord," she said, "you may believe that I will love and pray for +you; but now you must leave me, and not come here any more,--because +grandmamma would not be willing that I should talk with you, and it +would be wrong to disobey her, she is so very good to me." + +"But, dear Agnes," began the cavalier, approaching her, "I have many +things to say to you,--I have much to tell you." + +"But I know grandmamma would not be willing," said Agnes; "indeed, you +must not come here any more." + +"Well, then," said the stranger, "at least you will meet me at some +time,--tell me only where." + +"I cannot,--indeed, I cannot," said Agnes, distressed and embarrassed. +"Even now, if grandmamma knew you were here, she would be so angry." + +"But how can you pray for me, when you know nothing of me?" + +"The dear Lord knoweth you," said Agnes; "and when I speak of you, He +will know what you need." + +"Ah, dear child, how fervent is your faith! Alas for me, I have lost the +power of prayer! I have lost the believing heart my mother gave me,--my +dear mother who is now in heaven." + +"Ah, how can that be?" said Agnes. "Who could lose faith in so dear a +Lord as ours, and so loving a mother?" + +"Agnes, dear little lamb, you know nothing of the world; and I should be +most wicked to disturb your lovely peace of soul with any sinful doubts. +Oh, Agnes, Agnes, I am most miserable, most unworthy!" + +"Dear Sir, should you not cleanse your soul by the holy sacrament of +confession, and receive the living Christ within you? For He says, +'Without me ye can do nothing.'" + +"Oh, Agnes, sacrament and prayer are not for such as me! It is only +through your pure prayers I can hope for grace." + +"Dear Sir, I have an uncle, a most holy man, and gentle as a lamb. He is +of the convent San Marco in Florence, where there is a most holy prophet +risen up." + +"Savonarola?" said the cavalier, with flashing eyes. + +"Yes, that is he. You should hear my uncle talk of him, and how blessed +his preaching has been to many souls. Dear Sir, come some time to my +uncle." + +At this moment the sound of Elsie's voice was heard ascending the path +to the gorge outside, talking with Father Antonio, who was returning. + +Both started, and Agnes looked alarmed. + +"Fear nothing, sweet lamb," said the cavalier; "I am gone." + +He kneeled and kissed the hand of Agnes, and disappeared at one bound +over the parapet on the side opposite that which they were approaching. + +Agnes hastily composed herself, struggling with that half-guilty +feeling which is apt to weigh on a conscientious nature that has been +unwittingly drawn to act a part which would be disapproved by those +whose good opinion it habitually seeks. The interview had but the more +increased her curiosity to know the history of this handsome stranger. +Who, then, could he be? What were his troubles? She wished the interview +could have been long enough to satisfy her mind on these points. From +the richness of his dress, from his air and manner, from the poetry and +the jewel that accompanied it, she felt satisfied, that, if not what she +supposed, he was at least nobly born, and had shone in some splendid +sphere whose habits and ways were far beyond her simple experiences. She +felt towards him somewhat of the awe which a person of her condition in +life naturally felt toward that brilliant aristocracy which in those +days assumed the state of princes, and the members of which were +supposed to look down on common mortals from as great a height as the +stars regard the humblest flowers of the field. + +"How strange," she thought, "that he should think so much of me! What +can he see in me? And how can it be that a great lord, who speaks so +gently and is so reverential to a poor girl, and asks prayers so humbly, +can be so wicked and unbelieving as he says he is? Dear God, it cannot +be that he is an unbeliever; the great Enemy has been permitted to try +him, to suggest doubts to him, as he has to holy saints before now. How +beautifully he spoke about his mother!--tears glittered in his eyes +then,--ah, there must be grace there after all!" + +"Well, my little heart," said Elsie, interrupting her reveries, "have +you had a pleasant day?" + +"Delightful, grandmamma," said Agnes, blushing deeply with +consciousness. + +"Well," said Elsie, with satisfaction, "one thing I know,--I've +frightened off that old hawk of a cavalier with his hooked nose. I +haven't seen so much as the tip of his shoe-tie to-day. Yesterday he +made himself very busy around our stall; but I made him understand that +you never would come there again till the coast was clear." + +The monk was busily retouching the sketch of the Virgin of the +Annunciation. He looked up, and saw Agnes standing gazing towards the +setting sun, the pale olive of her cheek deepening into a crimson +flush. His head was too full of his own work to give much heed to the +conversation that had passed, but, looking at the glowing face, he said +to himself,-- + +"Truly, sometimes she might pass for the rose of Sharon as well as the +lily of the valley!" + +The moon that evening rose an hour later than the night before, yet +found Agnes still on her knees before the sacred shrine, while Elsie, +tired, grumbled at the draft on her sleeping-time. + +"Enough is as good as a feast," she remarked between her teeth; still +she had, after all, too much secret reverence for her grandchild's piety +openly to interrupt her. But in those days, as now, there were the +material and the spiritual, the souls who looked only on things that +could be seen, touched, and tasted, and souls who looked on the things +that were invisible. + +Agnes was pouring out her soul in that kind of yearning, passionate +prayer possible to intensely sympathetic people, in which the +interests and wants of another seem to annihilate for a time personal +consciousness, and make the whole of one's being seem to dissolve in an +intense solicitude for something beyond one's self. In such hours prayer +ceases to be an act of the will, and resembles more some overpowering +influence which floods the soul from without, bearing all its faculties +away on its resistless tide. + +Brought up from infancy to feel herself in a constant circle of +invisible spiritual agencies, Agnes received this wave of intense +feeling as an impulse inspired and breathed into her by some celestial +spirit, that thus she should be made an interceding medium for a soul in +some unknown strait or peril. For her faith taught her to believe in an +infinite struggle of intercession in which all the Church Visible and +Invisible were together engaged, and which bound them in living bonds of +sympathy to an interceding Redeemer, so that there was no want or woe +of human life that had not somewhere its sympathetic heart, and its +never-ceasing prayer before the throne of Eternal Love. Whatever may be +thought of the actual truth of this belief, it certainly was far more +consoling than that intense individualism of modern philosophy which +places every soul alone in its life-battle,--scarce even giving it a God +to lean upon. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE CONFESSIONAL. + + +The reader, if a person of any common knowledge of human nature, +will easily see the direction in which a young, inexperienced, and +impressible girl would naturally be tending under all the influences +which we perceive to have come upon her. + +But in the religious faith which Agnes professed there was a modifying +force, whose power both for good and evil can scarcely be estimated. + +The simple Apostolic direction, "Confess your faults one to another," +and the very natural need of personal pastoral guidance and assistance +to a soul in its heavenward journey, had in common with many other +religious ideas been forced by the volcanic fervor of the Italian nature +into a certain exaggerated proposition. Instead of brotherly confession +one to another, or the pastoral sympathy of a fatherly elder, the +religious mind of the day was instructed in an awful mysterious +sacrament of confession, which gave to some human being a divine right +to unlock the most secret chambers of the soul, to scrutinize and direct +its most veiled and intimate thoughts, and, standing in God's stead, to +direct the current of its most sensitive and most mysterious emotions. + +Every young aspirant for perfection in the religious life had to +commence by an unreserved surrender of the whole being in blind faith at +the feet of some such spiritual director, all whose questions must +be answered, and all whose injunctions obeyed, as from God himself. +Thenceforward was to be no soul-privacy, no retirement, nothing too +sacred to be expressed, too delicate to be handled and analyzed. In +reading the lives of those ethereally made and moulded women who +have come down to our day canonized as saints in the Roman Catholic +communion, one too frequently gets the impression of most regal natures, +gifted with all the most divine elements of humanity, but subjected to +a constant unnatural pressure from the ceaseless scrutiny and ungenial +pertinacity of some inferior and uncomprehending person invested with +the authority of a Spiritual Director. + +That there are advantages attending this species of intimate direction, +when wisely and skilfully managed, cannot be doubted. Grovelling and +imperfect natures have often thus been lifted up and carried in the arms +of superior wisdom and purity. The confession administered by a Fenelon +or a Francis de Sales was doubtless a beautiful and most invigorating +ordinance; but the difficulty in its actual working is the rarity of +such superior natures,--the fact, that the most ignorant and most +incapable may be invested with precisely the same authority as the most +intelligent and skilful. + +He to whom the faith of Agnes obliged her to lay open her whole soul, +who had a right with probing-knife and lancet to dissect out all the +finest nerves and fibres of her womanly nature, was a man who had been +through all the wild and desolating experiences incident to a dissipated +and irregular life in those turbulent days. + +It is true, that he was now with most stringent and earnest solemnity +striving to bring every thought and passion into captivity to the spirit +of his sacred vows; but still, when a man has once lost that unconscious +soul-purity which exists in a mind unscathed by the fires of passion, no +after-tears can weep it back again. No penance, no prayer, no anguish +of remorse can give back the simplicity of a soul that has never been +stained. + +If Padre Francesco had not failed to make those inquiries into the +character of Agnes's mysterious lover which he assumed to be necessary +as a matter of pastoral faithfulness. + +It was not difficult for one possessing the secrets of the confessional +to learn the real character of any person in the neighborhood, and it +was with a kind of bitter satisfaction which rather surprised himself +that the father learned enough ill of the cavalier to justify his using +every possible measure to prevent his forming any acquaintance with +Agnes. He was captain of a band of brigands, and, of course, in array +against the State; he was excommunicated, and, of course, an enemy of +the Church. What but the vilest designs could be attributed to such a +man? Was he not a wolf prowling round the green, secluded pastures where +as yet the Lord's lamb had been folded in unconscious innocence? + +Father Francesco, when he next met Agnes at the confessional, put such +questions as drew from her the whole account of all that had passed +between her and the stranger. The recital on Agnes's part was perfectly +translucent and pure, for she had said no word and had had no thought +that brought the slightest stain upon her soul. Love and prayer had been +the prevailing habit of her life, and in promising to love and pray she +had had no worldly or earthly thought. The language of gallantry, or +even of sincere passion, had never reached her ear; but it had always +been as natural to her to love every human being as for a plant +with tendrils to throw them round the next plant, and therefore she +entertained the gentle guest who had lately found room in her heart +without a question or a scruple. + +As Agnes related her childlike story of unconscious faith and love, her +listener felt himself strangely and bitterly agitated. It was a vision +of ignorant purity and unconsciousness rising before him, airy and +glowing as a child's soap-bubble, which one touch might annihilate; but +he felt a strange remorseful tenderness, a yearning admiration, at its +unsubstantial purity. There is something pleading and pitiful in the +simplicity of perfect ignorance,--a rare and delicate beauty in its +freshness, like the morning-glory cup, which, once withered by the heat, +no second morning can restore. Agnes had imparted to her confessor, by +a mysterious sympathy, something like the morning freshness of her own +soul; she had redeemed the idea of womanhood from gross associations, +and set before him a fair ideal of all that female tenderness and purity +may teach to man. Her prayers--well he believed in them,--but be set +his teeth with a strange spasm of inward passion,--when he thought +of her prayers and love being given to another. He tried to persuade +himself that this was only the fervor of pastoral zeal against a vile +robber who had seized the fairest lamb of the sheepfold; but there was +an intensely bitter, miserable feeling connected with it, that scorched +and burned his higher aspirations like a stream of lava running among +fresh leaves and flowers. + +The conflict of his soul communicated a severity of earnestness to +his voice and manner which made Agnes tremble, as he put one probing +question after another, designed to awaken some consciousness of sin +in her soul. Still, though troubled and distressed by his apparent +disapprobation, her answers came always clear, honest, unfaltering, like +those of one who _could_ not form an idea of evil. + +When the confession was over, he came out of his recess to speak +with Agnes a few words face to face. His eyes had a wild and haggard +earnestness, and a vivid hectic flush on either cheek told how extreme +was his emotion. Agnes lifted her eyes to his with an innocent wondering +trouble and an appealing confidence that for a moment wholly unnerved +him. He felt a wild impulse to clasp her in his arms; and for a moment +it seemed to him he would sacrifice heaven and brave hell, if he could +for one moment hold her to his heart, and say that he loved her,--her, +the purest, fairest, sweetest revelation of God's love that had ever +shone on his soul,--her, the only star, the only flower, the only +dew-drop of a burning, barren, weary life. It seemed to him that it was +not the longing, gross passion, but the outcry of his whole nature for +something noble, sweet, and divine. + +But he turned suddenly away with a sort of groan, and, folding his robe +over his face, seemed engaged in earnest prayer. Agnes looked at him +awe-struck and breathless. + +"Oh, my father!" she faltered, "what have I done?" + +"Nothing, my poor child," said the father, suddenly turning toward her +with recovered calmness and dignity; "but I behold in thee a fair lamb +whom the roaring lion is seeking to devour. Know, my daughter, that I +have made inquiries concerning this man of whom you speak, and find that +he is an outlaw and a robber and a heretic,--a vile wretch stained +by crimes that have justly drawn down upon him the sentence of +excommunication from our Holy Father the Pope." + +Agnes grew deadly pale at this announcement. + +"Can it be possible?" she gasped. "Alas! what dreadful temptations have +driven him to such sins?" + +"Daughter, beware how you think too lightly of them, or suffer his good +looks and flattering words to blind you to their horror. You must from +your heart detest him as a vile enemy." + +"Must I, my father?" + +"Indeed you must." + +"But if the dear Lord loved us and died for us when we were his enemies, +may we not pity and pray for unbelievers? Oh, say, my dear father, is it +not allowed to us to pray for all sinners, even the vilest?" + +"I do not say that you may not, my daughter," said the monk, too +conscientious to resist the force of this direct appeal; "but, +daughter," he added, with an energy that alarmed Agnes, "you must watch +your heart; you must not suffer your interest to become a worldly love: +remember that you are chosen to be the espoused of Christ alone." + +While the monk was speaking thus, Agnes fixed on him her eyes with an +innocent mixture of surprise and perplexity,--which gradually deepened +into a strong gravity of gaze, as if she were looking through him, +through all visible things into some far-off depth of mysterious +knowledge. + +"My Lord will keep me," she said; "my soul is safe in His heart as a +little bird in its nest; but while I love Him, I cannot help loving +everybody whom He loves, even His enemies: and, father, my heart prays +within me for this poor sinner, whether I will or no; something within +me continually intercedes for him." + +"Oh, Agnes! Agnes! blessed child, pray for me also," said the monk, with +a sudden burst of emotion which perfectly confounded his disciple. He +hid his face with his hands. + +"My blessed father!" said Agnes, "how could I deem that holiness like +yours had any need of my prayers?" + +"Child! child! you know nothing of me. I am a miserable sinner, tempted +of devils, in danger of damnation." + +Agnes stood appalled at this sudden burst, so different from the rigid +and restrained severity of tone in which the greater part of the +conversation had been conducted. She stood silent and troubled; while +he, whom she had always regarded with such awful veneration, seemed +shaken by some internal whirlwind of emotion whose nature she could not +comprehend. + +At length Father Francesco raised his head, and recovered his wonted +calm severity of expression. + +"My daughter," he said, "little do the innocent lambs of the flock know +of the dangers and conflicts through which the shepherds must pass who +keep the Lord's fold. We have the labors of angels laid upon us, and we +are but men. Often we stumble, often we faint, and Satan takes advantage +of our weakness. I cannot confer with you now as I would; but, my child, +listen to my directions. Shun this young man; let nothing ever lead +you to listen to another word from him; you must not even look at him, +should you meet, but turn away your head and repeat a prayer. I do not +forbid you to practise the holy work of intercession for his soul, but +it must be on these conditions. + +"My father," said Agnes, "you may rely on my obedience"; and, kneeling, +she kissed his hand. + +He drew it suddenly away, with a gesture of pain and displeasure. + +"Pardon a sinful child this liberty," said Agnes. + +"You know not what you do," said the father, hastily. "Go, my +daughter,--go, at once; I will confer with you some other time"; and +hastily raising his hand in an attitude of benediction, he turned and +went into the confessional. + +"Wretch! hypocrite! whited sepulchre!" he said to himself,--"to warn +this innocent child against a sin that is all the while burning in my +own bosom! Yes, I do love her,--I do! I, that warn her against earthly +love, I would plunge into hell itself to win hers! And yet, when I know +that the care of her soul is only a temptation and a snare to me, I +cannot, will not give her up! No, I cannot!--no, I will not! Why should +I _not_ love her? Is she not pure as Mary herself? Ah, blessed is he +whom such a woman leads! And I--I--have condemned myself to the society +of swinish, ignorant, stupid monks,--I must know no such divine souls, +no such sweet communion! Help me, blessed Mary!--help a miserable +sinner!" + +Agnes left the confessional perplexed and sorrowful. The pale, proud, +serious face of the cavalier seemed to look at her imploringly, and she +thought of him now with the pathetic interest we give to something noble +and great exposed to some fatal danger. "Could the sacrifice of my whole +life," she thought, "rescue this noble soul from perdition, then I shall +not have lived in vain. I am a poor little girl; nobody knows whether +I live or die. He is a strong and powerful man, and many must stand or +fall with him. Blessed be the Lord that gives to his lowly ones a +power to work in secret places! How blessed should I be to meet him in +Paradise, all splendid as I saw him in my dream! Oh, that would be worth +living for,--worth dying for!" + + * * * * * + + +THE AQUARIUM. + + +The sumptuous abode of Licinius Crassus echoes with his sighs and +groans. His children and slaves respect his profound sorrow, and leave +him with intelligent affection to solitude,--that friend of great grief, +so grateful to the afflicted soul, because tears can flow unwitnessed. +Alas! the favorite sea-eel of Crassus is dead, and it is uncertain +whether Crassus can survive it! + +This sensitive Roman caused his beloved fish to be buried with great +magnificence: he raised a monument to its memory, and never ceased to +mourn for it. So say Macrobius and Aelian. + +This man, we are told, who displayed so little tenderness towards his +servants, had an extraordinary weakness concerning his fine sea-eels. He +passed his life beside the superb fish-pond, where he lovingly +fattened them from his own hand. Nor was his fondness for pisciculture +exceptional in his times. The fish-pond, to raise and breed the +finest varieties of fish, was as necessary an adjunct to a complete +establishment as a barn-yard or hen-coop to a modern farmer or rural +gentleman. Wherever there was a well-appointed Roman villa, it contained +a _piscina_; while many gardens near the sea could boast also a +_vivarium_, which, in this connection, means an oyster-bed. + +Fish-ponds, of course, varied with the wealth, the ingenuity, and the +taste of their owners. Many were of vast size and of heterogeneous +contents. The costly _Muraena_, the carp, the turbot, and many other +varieties, sported at will in the great inclosures prepared for them. +The greater part of the Roman emperors were very fond of sea-eels. +The greedy Vitellius, growing tired of this dish, would at last, as +Suetonius assures us, eat only the soft roe; and numerous vessels +ploughed the seas in order to obtain it for him. The family of Licinius +took their surname of Muraena from these fish, in order thus to +perpetuate their silly affection for them. The love of fish became a +real mania, and the _Murcena Helena_ was worshipped. + +Hortensius, who possessed three splendid country-seats, constructed in +the grounds of his villa at Bauli a fish-tank so massive that it has +endured to the present day, and so vast as to gain for it even then the +name of _Piscina Mircihilis_. It is a subterraneous edifice, vaulted, +and divided by four rows of arcades and numerous columns,--some ten +feet deep, and of very great extent. Here the largest fishes could be +fattened at will; and even the mighty sturgeon, prince of good-cheer, +might find ample accommodations. + +Lucullus, that most ostentatious of patricians, and autocrat of +_bons-vivants_, had a mountain cut through in the neighborhood of +Naples, so as to open a canal, and bring up the sea and its fishes to +the centre of the gardens of his sumptuous villa. So Cicero well names +him one of the Tritons of fish-pools. His country-seat of Pausilypum +resembled a village rather than a villa, and, if of less extent, was +more magnificent in luxury than the gigantic villa of Hadrian, near +Tivoli. Great masses of stone-work are still visible, glimmering under +the blue water, where the marble walls repelled the waves, and ran out +in long arcades and corridors far into the sea. Inlets and creeks, +which wear even now an artificial air, mark the site of _piscinae_ and +refreshing lakes. Here were courts, baths, porticoes, and terraces, in +the _villa urbana_, or residence of the lord,--the _villa rustica_ for +the steward and slaves,--the _gallinarium_ for hens,--the _apiarium_ for +bees,--the _suile_ for swine,--the _villa fructuaria_, including the +buildings for storing corn, wine, oil, and fruits,--the _horius_, or +garden,--and the park, containing the fish-pond and the _vivarium_. +Statues, groves, and fountains, pleasure-boats, baths, jesters, and even +a small theatre, served to vary the amusements of the lovely grounds and +of the tempting sea. + +But it was not to be supposed that men satiated with the brutal shows +of the amphitheatre, even if enervated by their frequentation of the +Suburra, could, on leaving the city, be always content with simple +pleasures, rural occupations, or pleasure-sails. Habit demanded +something more exciting; and the ready tragedy of a fish-pond filled +with ravenous eels fed upon human flesh furnished the needed excitement. +For men _blase_ with the spectacles of lions and tigers lacerating the +_bestiarii_. It was much more exciting to witness a swarm of sea-eels +tearing to pieces an awkward or rebellious slave. Vedius Pollio, a Roman +knight of the highest distinction, could find nothing better to do for +his dear Muraenae than to throw them slaves alive; and he never +failed to have sea-eels served to him after their odious repast, says +Tertullian. It is true, these wretched creatures generally deserved this +terrible punishment; for instance, Seneca speaks of one who had the +awkwardness to break a crystal vase while waiting at supper on the +irascible Pollio. + +Pisciculture was carried so far that fish-ponds were constructed on +the roofs of houses. More practical persons conducted a stream of +river-water through their dining-rooms, so that the fish swam under the +table, and it "was only necessary to stoop and pick them out the moment +before eating them; and as they were often cooked on the table, their +perfect freshness was thus insured. Martial (Lib. X., Epigram. XXX., vv. +16-25) alludes to this custom, as well as to the culture and taming of +fish in the _piscina_. + + "Nec seta largo quaerit in mari praedam, + Sed e cubiclo lectuloque jactatam + Spectatus alte lineam trahit piscis. + Si quando Nereus sentit Aeoli regnum, + Ridet procellas tula de suo mensa. + Piscina rhombum pascit et lupos vernas, + Nomenculator mugilem citat notum + Et adesse jussi prodeunt senes mulli." + +It having been remarked that the red mullet passed through many changes +of color in dying, like the dolphin, fashion decreed that it should die +upon the table. Served alive, inclosed in a glass vessel, it was cooked +in the presence of the attentive guests, by a slow fire, in order +that they might gloat upon its sufferings and expiring hues, before +satisfying their appetites with its flesh. + +It will not surprise us to learn that the eminent _gourmand_ Apicius +offered a prize to the inventor of a new sauce made of mullets' livers. + +But we may remark, that fish, like all other natural objects, were +studied by the ancients only to pet or to eat. All their views of +Nature were essentially selfish; none were disinterested, reverential, +deductive, or scientific. Nature ministered only to their appetites, +in her various kinds of food,--to their service, in her beasts of +burden,--or to their childish or ferocious amusement, with talking +birds, as the starling, with pet fish, or with pugnacious wild beasts. +There was no higher thought. The Greeks, though fond of flowers, and +employing them for a multitude of adornments and festive occasions +entirely unequalled now, yet did not advance to their botanical study or +classification. The Roman, if enamored of the fine arts, could see no +Art in Nature. There was no experiment, no discovery, and but little +observation. The whole science of Natural History, which has assumed +such magnitude and influence in our times, was then almost entirely +neglected. + +And yet what an opportunity there was for the naturalist, had a single +enthusiast arisen? All lands, all climes, and all their natural +productions were subservient to the will of the Emperor. The orb of the +earth was searched for the roe of eels or the fins of mullets to gratify +Caesar. And the whole world might have been explored, and specimens +deposited in one gigantic museum in the Eternal City, at the nod of a +single individual. But the observer, the lover of Nature, was wanting; +and the whole world was ransacked merely to consign its living tenants +to the _vivaria_, and thence to the fatal arena of the amphitheatre. Yet +even here the naturalist might have pursued his studies on individuals, +and even whole species, both living and dead, without quitting Rome. The +animal kingdom lay tributary at his feet, but served only to satiate his +appetite or his passions, and not to enrich his mind. + +So, again, Rome's armies traversed the globe, and her legions were often +explorers of hitherto unknown regions. But no men of science, no corps +of _savans_ was attached to her cohorts, to march in the footsteps +of conquest and gather the fruits of victory to enrich the schools. +Provinces were devastated, great cities plundered, nations made captive, +and all the masterpieces of Art borne off to adorn Rome. But Nature was +never rifled of her secrets; nor was discovery carried beyond the most +material things. The military spirit stifled natural science. + +There were then, to be sure, no tendencies of thought to anything but +war, pleasure, literature, or art. There was comparatively no knowledge +of the physical sciences, whose culture Mr. Buckle has shown to have +exerted so powerful an influence on civilization. The convex lens--as +since developed into the microscope, the giver of a new world to +man--was known to Archimedes only as an instrument to burn the enemy's +fleet. + + * * * * * + +Modern pisciculture in some measure imitates, although, it does not +rival the ancient. Many methods have been devised in France and England +of breeding and nurturing the salmon, the trout, and other valuable +fish, which are annually becoming more scarce in all civilized +countries. But all this is on a far different principle from that +pursued at Rome. We follow pisciculture from necessity or economy, +because fish of certain kinds are yearly dying out, and to produce +a cheap food; but the Romans followed it as a luxury, or a childish +amusement, alone. And although our aldermen may sigh over a missing +Chelonian, as Crassus for his deceased eel, or the first salmon of the +season bring a fabulous price in the market, yet the time has long +passed when the gratification of appetite is alone thought of in +connection with Nature. We know that living creatures are to be studied, +as well as eaten; and that the faithful and reverent observation of +their idiosyncrasies, lives, and habits is as healthful and pleasing to +the mind as the consumption of their flesh is wholesome and grateful +to the body. The whole science of Zooelogy has arisen, with its simple +classifications and its vast details. The _vivaria_ of the Jardin des +Plantes rival those of the Colosseum in magnitude, and excel them in +object. Nature is ransacked, explored, and hunted down in every field, +only that she may add to the general knowledge. Museums collect and +arrange all the types of creative wisdom, from the simple cell to man. +Science searches out their extinct species and fossil remains, and tells +their age by Geology. The microscope pursues organic matter down into an +infinity of smallness, proportionately as far as the telescope traces it +upwards in the infinity of illimitable space. Last of all, though not +till long after the earth and the air had been seemingly exhausted, +the desire of knowledge began to push its way into the arcana of the +sea,--that hidden half of Nature, where are to be found those wonders +described by Milton at the Creation,--where, in obedience to the Divine +command, + + "Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas + And lakes and running streams the waters fill, ... + Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay, + With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals + Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales + Glide under the green wave in sculls that oft + Bank the mid sea: part single or with mate + Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through groves + Of coral stray, or sporting with quick glance + Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold, + Or in their pearly shells at ease attend + Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food + In jointed armor watch." + +But no means were at hand to pursue these unknown creatures to their +unknown residences, and to observe their manners when at home. Single, +withered, and often mutilated specimens of minute fish, mollusks, or +radiata, in the museum, alone illustrated the mysteries of the deep sea. +Fish, to be sure, could be kept for longer or shorter periods in globes +of glass filled with water; but the more delicate creatures inevitably +perished soon after their removal from their mysterious abodes. Such +a passionate desire to "search Nature and know her secrets" finally +originated the idea of the Aquarium. + +The term _vivarium_ was used among the ancients to signify many +things,--from the dens of the wild animals which opened under the +Colosseum, to an oyster-bed; and so now it may mean any collection of +living creatures. Hence it could convey no distinct idea of a marine +collection such as we propose to describe. The term _aqua_ was added to +express the watery element; but the compound _aqua-vivarium_ was too +clumsy for frequent employment, and the abbreviated word _aquarium_ has +come into general use. + +Thus the real Aquarium is a water-garden and a menagerie combined,--and +aims to show life beneath the waters, both animal and vegetable, in +all the domestic security of its native home, and in all the beauty, +harmony, and nice adaptation of Nature herself. It is no sudden +discovery, but the growth of a long and patient research by naturalists. + +"What happens, when we put half a dozen gold-fish into a globe? The +fishes gulp in water and expel it at the gills. As it passes through the +gills, whatever free oxygen the water contains is absorbed, and carbonic +acid given off in its place; and in course of time, the free oxygen of +the water is exhausted, the water becomes stale, and at last poisonous, +from excess of carbonic acid. If the water is not changed, the fishes +come to the surface and gulp atmospheric air. But though they naturally +breathe air (oxygen) as we do, yet they are formed to extract it from +the water; and when compelled to take air from the surface, the gills, +or lungs, soon get inflamed, and death at last puts an end to their +sufferings. + +"Now, if a fish-globe be not overcrowded with fishes, we have only +to throw in a goodly handful of some water-weed,--such as the +_Callitriche_, for instance,--and a new set of chemical operations +commences at once, and it becomes unnecessary to change the water. The +reason of this is easily explained. Plants absorb oxygen as animals +do; but they also absorb carbonic acid, and from the carbonic add thus +absorbed they remove the pure carbon, and convert it into vegetable +tissue, giving out the free oxygen either to the water or the air, as +the case may be. Hence, in a vessel containing water-plants in a state +of healthy growth, the plants exhale more oxygen than they absorb, and +thus replace that which the fishes require for maintaining healthy +respiration. Any one who will observe the plants in an aquarium, when +the sun shines through the tank, will see the leaves studded with bright +beads, some of them sending up continuous streams of minute bubbles. +These beads and bubbles are pure oxygen, which the plants distil from +the water itself, in order to obtain its hydrogen, and from carbonic +acid, in order to obtain its carbon."[A] + +[Footnote A:_The Book of the Aquarium_, by Sidney Hibbert.] + +Thus the water, if the due proportion of its animal and vegetable +tenants be observed, need never be changed. This is the true Aquarium, +which aims to imitate the balance of Nature. By this balance the whole +organic world is kept living and healthy. For animals are dependent upon +the vegetable kingdom not only for all their food, but also for +the purification of the air, which they all breathe, either in the +atmosphere or in the water. The divine simplicity of this stupendous +scheme may well challenge our admiration. Each living thing, animal or +plant, uses what the other rejects, and gives back to the air what the +other needs. The balance must be perfect, or all life would expire, and +vanish from the earth. + +This is the balance which we imitate in the Aquarium. It is the whole +law of life, the whole scheme of Nature, the whole equilibrium of our +organic world, inclosed in a bottle. + +For the rapid evolution of oxygen by plants the action of sunlight is +required. That evolution becomes very feeble, or ceases entirely, in the +darkness of the night. Some authorities assert even that carbonic acid +is given off during the latter period. So, too, they claim that there +are two distinct processes carried on by the leaves of plants,--namely, +respiration and digestion: that the first is analogous to the same +process in animals; and that by it oxygen is absorbed from, and carbonic +acid returned to the atmosphere, though to a limited degree: and that +digestion consists in _the decomposition of carbonic acid by the green +tissues of the leaves under the stimulus of the light, the fixation of +solid carbon, and the evolution of pure oxygen_. The theory of distinct +respiration has been somewhat doubted by the highest botanical authority +of this country; but the theory of digestion is indisputable. And it is +no less certain that all forms of vegetation give to the air much more +free oxygen than they take from it, and much less carbonic acid, as +their carbonaceous composition shows. If fresh leaves are placed in +a bell-glass containing air charged with seven or eight per cent. of +carbonic acid, and exposed to the light of the sun, it will be found +that a large proportion of the carbonic acid will have disappeared, and +will be replaced by pure oxygen. But this change will not be effected in +the dark, nor by any degree of artificial light. Under water the oxygen +evolved from healthy vegetation can be readily collected as it rises, as +has been repeatedly proved. + +Why carbonic acid is, to a limited degree, given off by the plant in the +night, is merely because the vital process, or the fixation of carbon +and evolution of oxygen, ceases when the light is withdrawn. The plant +is only in a passive state. Ordinary chemical forces resume their sway, +and the oxygen of the air combines with the newly deposited carbon to +reproduce a little carbonic acid. But this must be placed to the account +of decomposing, not of growing vegetation; for by so much as plants +grow, they decompose carbonic acid and give its oxygen to the air, or, +in other words, purify the air. + +It has been found by experiment, that every six pounds of carbon in +existing plants has withdrawn twenty-two pounds of carbonic acid gas +from the atmosphere, and replaced it with sixteen pounds of oxygen gas, +occupying the same bulk. And when we consider the amount of carbon that +is contained in the tissues of living, and of extinct vegetation also, +in the form of peat and coal, we may have some idea of the vast body of +oxygen which the vegetable kingdom has added to the atmosphere. + +And it is also to be considered, that this is the only means we know of +whereby free oxygen is given to supply the quantity constantly consumed +in respiration, combustion, and other vast and endless oxygen-using +processes. It follows, therefore, that animals are dependent upon plants +for their pure oxygen, as well as for their food. But the vegetable +kingdom might exist independently of the animal; since plants may derive +enough carbon from the soil, enriched by the decaying members of their +own race. + +There is, however, one exception to the law that plants increase the +amount of oxygen in the air. During flowering and fruiting, the stores +of carbon laid up in the plant are used to support the process, and, +combining with the oxygen of the air, both carbonic acid and heat are +given off. This has been frequently proved. In large tropical plants, +where an immense number of blossoms are crowded together, the +temperature has risen twenty to fifty degrees above that of the +surrounding air. + +As most of the aquatic plants are cryptogamous, or producing by spores, +and not by flowers, it seems probable that the evolution of carbonic +acid and heat is much less in degree in them, and therefore less in the +water than in the air. We may, therefore, venture to lay it down as a +general principle, that plants evolve free oxygen in water, when in +the sunlight, and remove the carbonic acid added to the water by the +respiration of the animals. + +But since this is a digestive or nutritive process, it follows that +aquatic plants may derive much or all of their food from the water +itself, or the carbon in it, in the same manner as the so-called +air-plant, which grows without soil, does from the air. It is true, at +any rate, that, in the fresh-water aquarium, the river and brook plants +need no soil but pebbles; and that the marine plants have no proper +root, but are attached by a sort of sucker or foot-stalk to stones and +masses of rock. It is very easy to see, then, how the aquarium may +be made entirely self-supporting; and that, excepting for the larger +carnivorous fish, who exhaust in a longer or shorter period the minute +creatures on which they live, no external food is required. + +A very simple experiment will prove the theory and practicability of the +aquarium. In a glass jar of moderate size was placed a piece of _Ulva +latissima_, or Sea-Lettuce, a broad-leaved, green, aquatic plant, and a +small fish. The mouth was closed by a ground glass stopper. The jar was +exposed to the light daily; the water was never changed; nor was the +glass stopper removed, excepting to feed the fish, once or twice a week, +with small fragments of meat. At the end of eight months both remained +flourishing: the fish was lively and active; and the plant had more than +half filled the bottle with fresh green leaves. + +Any vessel that will hold water can, of course, be readily converted +into an aquarium. But as we desire a clear view of the contents at all +times, glass is the best material. And since glass globes refract the +light irregularly and magnify and distort whatever is within them, we +shall find an advantage in having the sides of the aquarium parallel and +the form rectangular. As the weight of the aquarium, when filled with +water, is enormous,--far more than we should at first imagine,--it +follows that it must be capable of resisting pressure both from above +and from within. The floor and stand, the frame and joints must be +strong and compact, and the walls of plate or thick crown glass. The +bottom should be of slate; and if it is designed to attach arches of +rock-work inside to the ends, they, too, must be of slate, as cement +will not stick to glass. The frame should be iron, zinc, or well-turned +wood; the joints closed with white-lead putty; the front and back of +glass. There is one objection to having the side which faces the light +of transparent glass, and that is that it transmits too much glare of +sunlight for the health of the animals. In Nature's aquarium the light +enters only from above; and the fish and delicate creatures have always, +even then, the shady fronds of aquatic plants or the shelter of the +rocks,--as well as the power of seeking greater depths of water, where +the light is less,--to protect themselves from too intense a sunshine. +It is, therefore, sometimes advisable to have the window side of the +aquarium made of glass stained of a green color. It is desirable that +all aquarial tanks should have a movable glass cover to protect them +from dust, impure gases, and smoke. + +When we speak of an aquarium, we mean a vessel holding from eight to +thirty gallons of water. Mr. Gosse describes his larger tank as being +two feet long by eighteen inches wide and eighteen inches deep, and +holding some twenty gallons. Smaller and very pretty tanks may be +made fifteen inches long by twelve inches wide and twelve deep. Great +varieties in form and elegance may be adapted to various situations. + +There are two kinds of aquaria, the fresh- and the salt-water: the one +fitted for the plants and animals of ponds and rivers; the other for the +less known tenants of the sea. They are best described as the River and +the Marine Aquarium, and they differ somewhat from each other. We shall +speak first of the fresh-water aquarium. + +The tank being prepared, and well-seasoned, by being kept several weeks +alternately full and empty, and exposed to the sun and air, so that all +paint, oil, varnish, tannin, etc., may be wholly removed, the next thing +is to arrange the bottom and to plant it. Some rough fragments of rock, +free from iron or other metals that stain the water, may be built into +an arch with cement, or piled up in any shape to suit the fancy. The +bottom should be composed entirely of shingle or small pebbles, well +washed. Common silver sand, washed until the water can be poured through +it quite clear, is also suitable. + +Mould, or soil adapted to ordinary vegetation, is not necessary to +the aquatic plants, and is, moreover, worse than useless; since it +necessitates the frequent changing of the water for some time, in order +to get rid of the soluble vegetable matter, and promotes the growth of +Confervae, and other low forms of vegetation, which are obnoxious. + +Aquatic plants of all kinds have been found to root freely and flourish +in pebbles alone, if their roots be covered. The plants should be +carefully cleared of all dead parts; the roots attached to a small +stone, or laid on the bottom and covered with a layer of pebbles and +sand. + +The bottom being planted, the water may be introduced through a +watering-pot, or poured against the side of the tank, so as to avoid any +violent agitation of the bottom. The water should be pure and bright. +River-water is best; spring-water will do, but must be softened by the +plants for some days before the fishes are put in. + +Sunshine is good for the tank at all seasons of the year. The +fresh- requires more than the salt-water aquarium. The amount of +oxygen given off by the plants, and hence their growth and the +sprightliness of the fishes, are very much increased while the sun +is shining on them. + +In selecting plants for the aquarium some regard is to be paid to the +amount of oxygen they will evolve, and to their hardiness, as well as to +their beauty. When it is desired to introduce the fishes without waiting +long for the plants to get settled and to have given off a good supply +of oxygen, there is no plant more useful than the _Callitricke_, or +Brook Star-wort. It is necessary to get a good supply, and pick off the +green heads, with four or six inches only of stem; wash them clean, +and throw them into the tank, without planting. They spread over the +surface, forming a rich green ceiling, grow freely, and last for months. +They are continually throwing out new roots and shoots, and create +abundance of oxygen. Whenever desired, they can be got rid of by simply +lifting them out. + +The _Vallisneria_, or Tape-Grass, common in all our ponds, is essential +to every fresh-water tank. It must be grown as a bottom-plant, and +flourishes only when rooted. The _Nitella_ is another pleasing variety. +The _Ranunculus aquatilis_, or Water-Crowfoot, is to be found in almost +every pond in bloom by the middle of May, and continues so into the +autumn. It is of the buttercup family, and may be known as a white +buttercup with a yellow centre. The floating leaves are fleshy; the +lower ones finely cut. It must be very carefully washed, and planted +from a good joint, allowing length enough of stem to reach the surface. +Some of the blossom-heads may also be sprinkled over the surface, where +they will live and bloom all through the summer. The _Hydrocharis_, +or Frog's-Bit, and the _Alisma_, or Water-Plantain, are also easily +obtained, hardy and useful, as well as pleasing. Many rarer and more +showy varieties may be cultivated; we have given only the most common +and essential. All the varieties of _Chara_ are interesting to the +microscopist, as showing the phenomenon of the circulation of the sap, +or Cyclosis. + +Of the living tenants of the aquarium, those most interesting, as well +as of the highest organization, are the fishes. And among fishes, the +family of the _Cyprinidae_ are the best adapted to our purpose; for we +must select those which are both hardy and tamable. _Cyprinus gibelio_, +the Prussian Carp, is one of the best. It will survive, even if the +water should accidentally become almost exhausted of oxygen. It may +be taught, also, to feed from the hand. None of the carp are very +carnivorous. _Cyprinus auratus_, or the Gold-fish, is one of the most +ornamental objects in an aquarium. But the Minnow, _C. phoxinus_, is the +jolliest little fish in the tank. He is the life of the collection, and +will survive the severest trials of heat and cold. The Chub, a common +tenant of our ponds, is also a good subject for domestication. The +Tench and Loach are very interesting, but also very delicate. Among the +spiny-finned fishes, the Sticklebacks are the prettiest, but so savage +that they often occasion much mischief. For a vessel containing +twelve gallons the following selection of live stock is among those +recommended: Three Gold Carp, three Prussian Carp, two Perch, four +large Loach, a dozen Minnows, six Bleak, and two dozen Planorbis. Some +varieties of the Water-Beetles, or Water-Spiders, which the fishes +do not eat, may also well be added. The Newt, too, is attractive and +harmless. + +All may go on well, and the water remain clear; but after the tank has +been established several weeks, the inner sides of the glass will show a +green tinge, which soon increases and interferes with the view. This is +owing to the growth of a minute confervoid vegetation, which must be +kept down. For this purpose the Snail is the natural remedy, being the +ready scavenger of all such nuisances. Snails cling to the sides, and +clean away and consume all this vegetable growth. The _Lymnea_ is among +the most efficient, but unfortunately is destructive, by eating holes +in the young fronds of the larger plants, and thus injuring their +appearance. To this objection some other varieties of snail are not +open. The _Paludina_ and _Planorbis_ are the only kinds which are +trustworthy. The former is a handsome snail, with a bronze-tinted, +globular shell; the latter has a spiral form. These will readily reduce +the vegetation. And to preserve the crystal clearness of the water, some +Mussels may be allowed to burrow in the sand, where they will perform +the office of animated filters. They strain off matters held in +suspension in the water, by means of their siphons and ciliated gills. +With these precautions, a well-balanced tank will long retain all the +pristine purity of Nature. + +Specimens for the river aquarium may be readily obtained in almost +any brook or pool, by means of the hand-net or dredge. It will be +astonishing to see the variety of objects brought up by a successful +haul. Small fish, newts, tadpoles, mollusks, water-beetles, worms, +spiders, and spawn of all kinds will be visible to the naked eye; while +the microscope will bring out thousands more of the most beautiful +objects. + +A very different style of appearance and of objects distinguishes the +Salt-water or Marine Aquarium. + +As the greater part of the most curious live stock of the salt-water +aquarium live upon or near the bottom, so the marine tank should be more +shallow, and allow an uninterrupted view from above. Marine creatures +are more delicately constituted than fresh-water ones; and they demand +more care, patience, and oversight to render the marine aquarium +successful. + +Sea-sand and pebbles, washed clean, form the best bottom for the +salt-water aquarium. It must be recollected that many of the marine +tenants are burrowers, and require a bottom adapted to their habits. +Some rock-work is considered essential to afford a grateful shelter and +concealment to such creatures as are timid by nature, and require a spot +in which to hide: this is true of many fishes. Branches of coral, bedded +in cement, may be introduced, and form beautiful and natural objects, on +which plants will climb and droop gracefully. + +Sea-water dipped from the open sea, away from the mouths of rivers, +is, of course, the best for the marine aquarium. If pure, it will bear +transportation and loss of time before being put into the tank. It may, +however, not always be possible to get sea-water, particularly for the +aquarium remote from the seaboard, and it is therefore fortunate that +artificial sea-water will answer every purpose. + +The composition of natural sea-water is, in a thousand parts, +approximately, as follows: Water, 964 parts; Common Salt, 27; Chloride +of Magnesium, 3.6; Chloride of Potassium, 0.7; Sulphate of Magnesia, +(Epsom Salts,) 2; Sulphate of Lime, 1.4; Bromide of Magnesium, Carbonate +of Lime, etc., .02 to .03 parts. Now the Bromide of Magnesium, and +Sulphate and Carbonate of Lime, occur in such small quantities, that +they can be safely omitted in making artificial seawater; and besides, +river and spring water always contain a considerable proportion of lime. +Therefore, according to Mr. Gosse, we may use the following formula: In +every hundred parts of the solid ingredients, Common Salt, 81 parts; +Epsom Salts, 7 parts; Chloride of Magnesium, 10 parts; Chloride of +Potassium, 2 parts; and of Water about 2900 parts, although this must be +accurately determined by the specific gravity. The mixture had better +be allowed to stand several days before filling the tank; for thus the +impurities of the chemicals will settle, and the clear liquor can be +decanted off. The specific gravity should then be tested with the +hydrometer, and may safely range from 1026 to 1028,--fresh water being +1000. If a quart or two of real sea-water can be obtained, it is a very +useful addition to the mixture. It may now be introduced into the tank +through a filter. But no living creatures must be introduced until the +artificial water has been softened and prepared by the growth of the +marine plants in it for several weeks. Thus, too, it will be oxygenated, +and ready for the oxygen-using tenants. + +It is a singular fact, that water which has been thus prepared, with +only four ingredients, will, after being a month or more in the +aquarium, acquire the other constituents which are normally present in +minute quantities in the natural sea-water. It must derive them from the +action of the plants or animals, or both. Bromine may come from sponges, +or sea-wrack, perhaps. Thus artificial water eventually rights itself. + +The tank, having been prepared and seasoned with the same precaution +used for the river aquarium, and having a clear bottom and a supply of +good water, is now ready for planting. Many beautifully colored and +delicately fringed Algae and Sea-Wracks will be found on the rocks at +low tide, and will sadly tempt the enthusiast to consign their delicate +hues to the aquarium. All such temptations must be resisted. Green is +the only color well adapted for healthy and oxygenating growth in the +new tank. A small selection of the purple or red varieties may perhaps +be introduced and successfully cultivated at a later day, but they are +very delicate; while the olives and browns are pretty sure to die and +corrupt the water. It must be remembered, too, that the Algae are +cryptogamous, and bear no visible flowers to delight the eye or fancy. +Of all marine plants, the _Ulva latissima_, or Sea-Lettuce, is first and +best. It has broad, light-green fronds, and is hardy and a rapid grower, +and hence a good giver of oxygen. Next to this in looks and usefulness +comes the _Enteromorpha compressa_, a delicate, grass-like Alga. After +a while the _Chondrus crispus_, or common Carrageen Moss, may be chosen +and added. These ought to be enough for some months, as it is not safe +to add too many at once. Then the green weeds _Codium tomentosum_ and +_Cladophora_ may be tried; and, still later, the beautiful _Bryopsis +plumosa_. But it is much better to be content with a few Ulvae, and +others of that class, to begin with; for a half dozen of these will +support quite a variety of animal life. + +After a few hardy plants are well set, and thriving for a week or two, +and the water is clear and bubbly with oxygen, it will be time to look +about for the live stock of the marine aquarium. Fishes, though most +attractive, must be put in last; for as they are of the highest +vitality, so they require the most oxygen and food, and hence should not +be trusted until everything in the tank is well a-going. + +The first tenants should be the hardy varieties of the Sea-Anemones, +or _Actiniae_,--which are Polyps, of the class Radiata. The _Actinia +mesembryanthemum_ is the common smooth anemone, abounding on the coast, +and often to be found attached to stones on the beach. "When closed," +says Mr. Hibbert, "it has much resemblance to a ripe strawberry, +being of a deep chocolate color, dotted with small yellow spots. When +expanded, a circle of bright blue beads or tubercles is seen within the +central opening; and a number of coral-like fingers or tentacles unfold +from the centre, and spread out on all sides." It remains expanded for +many days together, if the water be kept pure; and, having little desire +for locomotion, stays, generally, about where it is placed. It is +a carnivorous creature, and seeks its food with its ever-searching +tentacles, thus drawing in fishes and mollusks, but, most frequently, +the minute Infusoria. Like other polyps, it may be cut in two, and each +part becomes a new creature. It is a very pretty and hardy object in the +aquarium. There are many varieties, some of which are very delicate, as +the _Actinia anguicoma_, or Snaky-locked Anemone, and the pink and brown +_Actinia bellis_, which so resembles a daisy. Others, as the _Actinia +parasitica_, are obtainable only by deep-sea dredging; "and, as its name +implies, it usually inhabits the shell of some defunct mollusk. And more +curious still, in the same shell we usually find a pretty crab, who +acts as porter to the anemone. He drags the shell about with him like +a palanquin, on which sits enthroned a very bloated, but gayly-dressed +potentate, destitute of power to move it for himself."[B] + +[Footnote B: Hibbert's _Book of the Aquarium_.] + +The _Actinia gemmacea_, or Gemmed Anemone, the _Actinia crassicornis_, +and the Plumose Anemone are all beautiful, but tender varieties. + +The Anemones require but little care; they do not generally need +feeding, though the Daisy and Plumose Anemone greedily take minced +mutton, or oyster. But, as a rule, there are enough Infusoria for their +subsistence; and it is safer not to feed them, as any fragments not +consumed will decay, and contaminate the water. + +Next in order of usefulness, hardiness, and adaptability to the new +aquarium, come the Mollusks. And of these, Snails and Periwinkles claim +our respectful attention, as the most faithful, patient, and necessary +scavengers of the confervoid growths, which soon obscure the marine +aquarium. + +"It is interesting," says Mr. Gosse, "to watch the business-like way in +which the Periwinkle feeds. At very regular intervals, the proboscis, a +tube with thick fleshy walls, is rapidly turned inside out to a certain +extent, until a surface is brought into contact with the glass having a +silky lustre; this is the tongue; it is moved with a short sweep, +and then the tubular proboscis infolds its walls again, the tongue +disappearing, and every filament of Conferva being carried up into the +interior, from the little area which had been swept. The next instant, +the foot meanwhile having made a small advance, the proboscis unfolds +again, the makes another sweep, and again the whole is withdrawn; and +this proceeds with great regularity. I can compare the action to nothing +so well as to the manner in which the tongue of an ox licks up the grass +of the field, or to the action of the mower cutting swath after swath." + +Of Crustacea, the Prawns and the smaller kinds of Crabs may be +admitted to the aquarium, though but sparingly. They are rude, noisy, +quarrelsome, and somewhat destructive,--but, for the same reason, +amusing tenants of the tank. + +All are familiar with the mode in which the Soldier or Hermit Crab takes +possession of and lives in the shells of Whelks and Snails. Poorly +protected behind by Nature, the homeless crab wanders about seeking a +lodging. Presently he meets with an empty shell, and, after probing it +carefully with his claw to be sure it is not tenanted, he pops into it +back foremost in a twinkling, and settles himself in his new house. +Often, too, he may be seen balancing the conveniences of the one he is +in and of another vacant lodging he has found in his travels; and he +even ventures out of his own, and into the other, and back again, before +being satisfied as to their respective merits. In all these manoeuvres, +as well as in his daily battles with his brethren, he is one of the +drollest of creatures. + +As we advance in our practice with the aquarium we may venture to +introduce more delicate lodgers. Such are the beautiful family of the +_Annelidae_: the _Serpula_, in his dirty house; and the _Terebella_, +most ancient of masons, who lays the walls of his home in water-proof +cement. + +The great class of Zooephytes can be introduced, but many varieties of +them will be found already within the aquarium, in the company of their +more bulky neighbors. These peculiar creatures, or things, form the +boundary where the last gleam of animal life is so feeble and flickering +as to render it doubtful whether they belong to the animal or vegetable +kingdom. Agassiz calls them _Protozoa_,--Primary Existences. Some divide +them into two great classes, namely: the _Anthozoa_, or Flower-Life; and +the _Polyzoa_, or Many-Life, in which the individuals are associated in +numbers. They are mostly inhabitants of the water; all are destitute of +joints, nerves, lungs, and proper blood-vessels; but they all possess +an _irritable_ system, in obedience to which they expand or contract at +will. Among the _Anthozoa_ are the Anemones; among the _Polyzoa_, +are the Madrepores, or Coral-Builders, and many others. Many are +microscopic, and belong to the class of animalcules called _Infusoria_. + +A very remarkable quality which the Infusoria possess--one very useful +for the aquarium, and one which would seem to settle their place in the +_vegetable_ kingdom--is that they _exhale oxygen_ like plants. This has +been proved by Liebig, who collected several jars of oxygen from tanks +containing Infusoria only. + +A piece of honeycomb coral (_Eschara foliacea_) is easily found, and, +when well selected and placed in the aquarium, may continue to grow +there by the labors of its living infusorial tenants: they are not +unworthy rivals of the Madrepores, or deep-sea coral-builders of warmer +latitudes. The walls of its cells are not more than one-thirtieth of an +inch in thickness, and each cell has its occupant. So closely are they +packed, that in an area of one-eighth of an inch square the orifices of +forty-five cells can be counted. As these are all double, this would +give five thousand seven hundred and sixty cells to the square inch. Now +a moderate-sized specimen will afford, with all its convolutions, +at least one hundred square inches of wall, which would contain a +population of five hundred and seventy-six thousand inhabitants,--a very +large city. So says Mr. Gosse. We cannot forbear, with him, from quoting +Montgomery's lines on the labors of the coral-worms, which modern +science has enabled us to study in our parlors. + + "Millions on millions thus, from age to age, + With simplest skill, and toil unweariable, + No moment and no movement unimproved, + Laid line on line, on terrace terrace spread, + To swell the heightening, brightening, gradual mound, + By marvellous structure climbing towards the day. + Each wrought alone, yet all together wrought, + Unconscious, not unworthy instruments, + By which a hand invisible was rearing + A new creation in the secret deep. + .....I saw the living pile ascend, + The mausoleum of its architects, + Still dying upwards as their labors closed; + Slime the material, but the slime was turned + To adamant by their petrific touch: + Frail were their frames, ephemeral their lives, + Their masonry imperishable." + +The deep-sea soundings taken recently for the Atlantic telegraph have +demonstrated the existence of organic life even at the bottom of the +ocean. Numerous living Infusoria have been brought to the light of day, +from their hidden recesses, by the lead. "Deeper than ever plummet +sounded" before these latter days, there exist myriads of minute +creatures, and of Algae to furnish their food. It is an unanswered +problem, How they can resist the enormous pressure to which they must +be there subjected, amounting, not infrequently, to several tons to the +square inch. And still another point of interest for us springs +from this. It is an inquiry of practical importance to the aquarian +naturalist, How far the diminished pressure which they meet with in the +tank, on being transferred from their lower homes to the aquarium, may +influence their viability. May not some of the numerous deaths in the +marine tank be reasonably attributed to this lack of pressure? + +What a difference, too, has Nature established, in the natural power to +resist pressure, between those creatures which float near the surface +and those which haunt the deeper sea! The Jelly-fish can live only near +the top of the water, and, floating softly through a gentle medium, is +yet crushed by a touch; while the Coral-builder bears the superincumbent +weight of worlds on his vaulted cell with perfect impunity. + +Another important question is, How far alteration in the amount of light +may affect the more delicate creatures. What fishes do without light has +been solved by the darkness of the Mammoth Cave, the tenants of whose +black pools are eyeless, evidently because there is nothing to see. The +more deeply located Infusoria and Mollusks must dwell in an endless +twilight; for Humboldt has found, by experiment, that at a depth one +hundred and ninety-two feet from the surface the amount of sunlight +which can penetrate is equal only to one-half of the light of an +ordinary candle one foot distant. + +Thus ever in gloom, yet in a state of constant safety from storms and +the agitations of the upper air, the thousand forms of low organic life +and cryptogamic vegetation live and thrive in peace and quietness. + + "The floor is of sand like the mountain drift, + And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow; + From the coral rocks the sea-plants lift + Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow. + + * * * * * + + "And life in rare and beautiful forms + Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, + And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms + Has made the top of the waves his own."[C] + +[Footnote C: Percival.] + +Upon the bottom, at various depths, lies that brilliant Radiate--type of +his class--the Star-fish. These are quiet and harmless creatures, and +favorites in the aquarium, from the pretty contrast they make with +marine plants and other objects. + +The perfect transparency, elegant form, and graceful navigation of the +_Medusae_, or Jelly-fishes, render them much admired in their native +haunts, and prized for the aquarium. But they are very delicate. How +beautiful and remarkable are these headless _Discophori_, as they +float, and propel themselves with involutions of their disks and gently +trailing tentacles, and the central peduncle hanging far below, like the +clapper of a transparent bell! And yet these wonders are but so much +sea-water, inclosed in so slight a tissue that it withers in the sun, +and leaves only a minute spot of dried-up gelatinous substance behind. + +Finally come the Fishes, many of which are of similar genera to those +recommended for the fresh-water tank. The Black Goby is familiar, +tamable, but voracious; the Gray Mullet is very hardy, but also rather +savage; the Wrasses are some of the most showy fish,--called in some +parts of the country Cunners,--and of these, the Ancient Wrasse, +(_Labrus maculatus_,) covered with a network of vermilion meshes on a +brown and white ground, is the most elegant. + +Some points of general management are so important, and some dangers so +imminent, that we cannot pass them by unnoticed. The aquarian enthusiast +is very apt to be in too great haste to see everything going on, and +commits the common error of trying too many things at once. The aquarium +must be built up slowly and tentatively, object by object: plants first, +and of the simplest kinds; and not until they are well settled, and the +water beaded with oxygen bubbles, should we think of introducing living +creatures,--and even then only the hardier kinds of actinias, mollusks, +and crabs. All delicate animals must be intrusted one by one to their +new home, and carefully watched for deaths and decay, which, whether +arising from dead plants or animals, ruin everything very quickly, +unless they be promptly removed. For sulphuretted hydrogen, even in very +minute quantities, is sure death to all these little creatures. + +The emanations from paint and putty are often fatal in new tanks. +Several weeks' exposure to water, air, and sunlight is necessary to +season the new-made aquarium. Of equal consequence is it that the water +be absolutely pure; and if brought from the sea, care must be exercised +about the vessel containing it. Salt acts upon the glazing of earthen +ware of some kinds. Stone or glass jars are safest. New oak casks are +fatal from the tannin which soaks out; fir casks are safe and good. So +delicate and sensitive are the minute creatures which people the sea, +that they have been found dead on opening a cask in which a new oak +bung was the only source of poison. And no wonder; for a very slight +proportion of tannic acid in the water corrugates and stiffens the thin, +smooth skin of the anemone, like the tanning of leather. + +A certain natural density of the sea-water must also be preserved, +ranging between no wider limits than 1026 and 1028. And in the open tank +evaporation is constantly deranging this, and must be met by a supply +from without. As the pure water alone evaporates, and the salts and +earthy or mineral constituents are left behind, two things result: the +water remaining becomes constantly more dense; and this can be remedied +only by pure fresh water poured in to restore the equilibrium. Hence the +marine aquarium must be replenished with _fresh water_, until the proper +specific gravity, as indicated by the hydrometer, is restored. + +The aquarium may be found some morning with a deep and permanent green +stain discoloring the water. This unsightly appearance is owing to the +simultaneous development of the spores of multitudes of minute Algae and +Confervae, and can be obviated by passing the water through a charcoal +filter. When any of the fishes give signs of sickness or suffocation, by +coming to the surface and gulping air, they may be revived by having the +water aerated by pouring it out repeatedly from a little elevation, or +by a syringe. The fishes are sometimes distressed, also, when the room +gets too warm for them. A temperature of 60 deg. is about what they require. +And they will stand cold, many of them, even to being frozen with the +water into ice, and afterwards revive. + +The degree of light should be carefully regulated by a stained glass +side, or a shade. Yet it must be borne in mind that sunlight is +indispensable to the free evolution of oxygen by the plants. And when +the sun is shining on the water, all its occupants appear more lively, +and the fishes seem intoxicated--as they doubtless are--with oxygen. + +A novice is apt to overstock his aquarium. Not more than two +moderate-sized fishes to a gallon of water is a safe rule. Care, too, +must be taken to group together those kinds of creatures which are not +natural enemies, or natural food for each other, or a sad scene of +devastation and murder will ensue. + +Cleansing cannot be always intrusted to snails. But the sides may be +scrubbed with a soft swab, made of cotton or wick-yarn. Deaths will +occasionally take place; and even suicide is said to be resorted to by +the wicked family of the Echinoderms. + +To procure specimens for the aquarium requires some knack and knowledge. +The sea-shore must be haunted, and even the deep sea explored. At the +extreme low-water of new or full moon tides, the rocks and tide-pools +are to be zealously hunted over by the aquarian naturalist. Several +wide-mouthed vials and stone jars are necessary; and we would repeat, +that no plant should be taken, unless its attachment is preserved. It +is often a long and difficult job to get some of the Algae; with their +tender connections unsevered from the hard rock, which must be chipped +away with the chisel, and often with the blows of the hammer deadened by +being struck under water. It is by lifting up the overhanging masses of +slimy fuel, tangles, and sea-grass, that we find the delicate varieties, +as the _Chondrus_ with its metallic lustre, and the red _Algae_, or the +stony _Corallina_, which delights in the obscurity of shaded pools. + +The sea-weeds will be found studded with mollusks,--as Snails and +Periwinkles of many queer varieties. Anemones, of the more common kinds, +are found clinging to smooth stones. Crabs on the sand. Prawns, Shrimps, +Medusae, and fishes of many species, in the little pools which the tide +leaves behind, and which it will require a sharp eye and a quick hand +to explore with success. But the rarer forms of Actinias, Star-fishes, +Sepioles, Madrepores, Annelidae, and Zoophytes, of a thousand shapes, +live on the bottom, in deep water, and must be captured there. + +For this purpose we must dredge from a boat, under sail. The +naturalist's dredge is an improved oyster-dredge, with each of the two +long sides of the mouth made into a scraping lip of iron. The body is +made of spun-yarn, or fishing-line, netted into a small mesh. Two long +triangles are attached by a hinge to the two short sides of the frame, +and meeting in front, at some distance from the mouth, are connected by +a swivel-joint. To this the dragging rope is bent, which must be three +times as long, in dredging, as the depth of the water. This is fastened +to the stern of a boat under sail, and thus the bottom is raked of +all sorts of objects; among which, on emptying the net, many living +creatures for the aquarium are found. These may be placed temporarily in +jars; though plants, mollusks, Crustacea and Actiniae may be kept and +transmitted long distances packed in layers of moist sea-weed. + +For all this detail, labor, and patient care, we may reasonably find +two great objects: first, the cultivation and advancement of natural +science; second, the purest delight and healthiest amusement. + +In the aquarium we have a most convenient field for the study of +Natural History: to learn the varieties, nature, names, habits, and +peculiarities of those endless forms of animated existence which dwell +in the hidden depths of the sea, and at the same time to improve our +minds by cultivating our powers of observation. + +The pleasure derived from the aquarium comes from the excitement of +finding and collecting specimens, as well as from watching the tank +itself. There can be no more pleasant accompaniment to the sea-side walk +of the casual visitor or summer resident of a watering-place, than to +search for marine plants and animals among the fissures, rocks, and +tide-pools of the sea-washed beach or cape. + +Nature is always as varied as beautiful. Thousands of strange forms +sport under the shadow of the brown, waving sea-weeds, or among the +delicate scarlet fronds of the dulse, which is found growing in the +little ponds that the inequalities of the beach have retained. It is +down among the great boulders which the Atlantic piles upon our coast, +that we may find endless varieties of life to fill the aquarium, though +not those more gorgeous hues which distinguish the tenants of the coral +reefs on tropical shores. Yet even here Nature is absolutely infinite; +and we shall find ourselves, day after day, imitating that botanist who, +walking through the same path for a month, found always a new plant +which had escaped his notice before. So, too, in exploring the open sea, +besides the pleasure of sailing along a variegated coast, with sun and +blue water, we have the constant excitement of unexpected discovery: +for, as often as we pull up the dredge, some new wonder is revealed. + +Words fail to describe the wonders of the sea. And all that we drag +from the bottom, all that we admire in the aquarium, are but a few +disconnected specimens of that infinite whole which makes up their home. + +So, too, in watching the aquarium itself, we shall see endless +repetitions of those "sea-changes" which Shakspeare sang. Ancient +mythology typified the changing wonders of aquatic Nature, as well +as the fickleness of the treacherous sea, in those shifting deities, +Glaucus and Proteus, who tenanted the shore. + +The one the fancy of Ovid metamorphosed from a restless man to a fickle +sea-god; the other assumed so many deceptive shapes to those who visited +his cave, that his memory has been preserved in the word Protean. Such +fancies well apply to a part of Nature which shifts like the sands, and +ranges from the hideous Cuttle-fish and ravenous Shark to the delicate +Medusa, whose graceful form and trailing tentacles float among the +waving fronds of colored Algae, like + + "Sabrina fair, + Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, + In twisted braids of lilies knitting + The loose train of her amber-dropping hair." + + * * * * * + + +THE YOUNG REPEALER. + + +About eighteen years ago, when I was confined to two rooms by illness +of long standing, I received a remarkable note by post one day. The +envelope, bearing the Dublin postmark, was addressed in a good, bold, +manly handwriting; but the few lines within showed traces of agitation. +What I am going to relate is a true story,--altogether true, so far as +I can trust my memory,--except the name of the Young Repealer. I might +give his real name without danger of hurting any person's feelings but +one; but, for the sake of that one, who will thus be out of the reach +of my narrative, I speak of him under another name. Having to choose +a name, I will take a thoroughly Irish one, and call my correspondent +Patrick Monahan. + +The few lines which showed agitation in the handwriting were calm +in language, but very strange. Patrick Monahan told me that he was +extremely unhappy, and that he had reason to believe that I, and I +alone, could do him good. This, with the address,--to a certain number +in a street in Dublin,--was all. + +There was little time before the post went out; I was almost unable to +write from illness; but, after a second glance at this note, I felt that +I dared not delay my reply. I did not think that it was money that he +wished to ask. I did not think that he was insane. I could not conceive +why he should apply to me, nor why he did not explain what he wished +from me; but I had a strong impression that it was safest to reply at +once. I did so, in half a dozen lines, promising to write next day, +after a further attempt to discover his meaning, and begging him to +consider how completely in the dark I was as to him and his case. It was +well that I wrote that day. Long after, when he was letting me into all +the facts of his life, he told me that he had made my replying at once +or not the turning-point of his fate. If the post had brought him +nothing, he would have drowned himself in the Liffey. + +My second letter was the only sort of letter that it could be,--an +account of my own conjectures about him, and of my regret that I could +see no probability of my being of use to him, except in as far as my +experience of many troubles might enable me to speak suitably to him. I +added some few words on the dangers attending any sort of trouble, when +too keenly felt. + +In answer to my first note came a few lines, telling me that the purpose +of his application was mainly answered, and that my reply was of +altogether greater consequence than I could have any idea of. He was +less unhappy now, and believed he should never be so desperately +wretched again. Wild as this might appear, I was still persuaded that he +was not insane. + +By the next post came a rather bulky packet. It contained, besides a +letter from him, two or three old parchment documents, which showed that +Patrick's forefathers had filled some chief municipal offices in the +city in which the family had been settled for several generations. I had +divined that Patrick was a gentleman; and he now showed me that he came +of a good and honorable family, and had been well-educated. He was an +orphan, and had not a relation in the world,--if I remember right. It +was evident that he was poor; but he did not ask for money, nor seem to +write on that account. He aspired to a literary life, and believed +he should have done so, even if he had had the means of professional +education. But he did not ask me for aid in trying his powers in +literature. It was very perplexing; and the fact became presently clear +that he expected me to tell him how I could be of use to him,--he being +in no way able to afford me that information. I may as well give here +the key to the mystery, which I had to wait for for some time. When poor +Patrick was in a desperate condition,--very ill, in a lodging of which +he could not pay the rent,--threatened with being turned into the street +as soon as the thing could be done without danger to his life,--galled +with a sense of disgrace, and full of impotent wrath against an +oppressor,--and even suffering under deeper griefs than these,--at such +a time, the worn man fell asleep, and dreamed that I looked kindly upon +him. This happened three times; and on this ground, and this alone, he +applied to me for comfort. + +Before I learned this much, I had taken upon me to advise freely +whatever occurred to me as best, finding Patrick entirely docile under +my suggestions. Among other things, I advised him not to take offence, +or assume any reserve, if a gentleman should call on him, with a desire +to be of use to him. A gentleman did call, and was of eminent use to +him. I had written to a benevolent friend of mine, a chief citizen of +Dublin, begging him to obtain for me, through some trusty clerk or other +messenger, some information as to what Patrick was like,--how old he +was, what he was doing, and whether anything effectual could be done for +him. Mr. H. went himself. He found Patrick sitting over a little fire +in a little room, his young face thin and flushed, and his thin hands +showing fever. He had had inflammation of the lungs, and, though he +talked cheerfully, he was yet very far from well. Mr. H. was charmed +with him. He found in him no needless reserves, and not so much +sensitive pride as we had feared. Patrick had great hopes of sufficient +employment, when once he could get out and go and see about it; and he +pointed out two or three directions in which he believed he could obtain +engagements. Two things, however, were plain: that there was some +difficulty about getting out, and that his mind was set upon going +to London at the first possible moment. He had not only the ordinary +provincial ambition to achieve an entrance into the London literary +world, but he had another object: he could serve his country best in +London. Mr. H. easily divined the nature of the obstacle to his going +out into the fresh air which he needed so much; and in a few days +Patrick had a good suit of clothes. This was Mr. H.'s doing; and he also +removed the danger of Patrick's being turned out of his lodging. +The landlord had no wish to do such a thing; the young man was a +gentleman,--regular and self-denying in his habits, and giving no +trouble that he could help: but he had been very ill; and it was so +desolate! Nobody came to see him; no letters arrived for him; no +money was coming in, it was clear; and he could not go on living +there,--starving, in fact. + +Once able to go about again, Patrick cheered up; but it was plain that +there was one point on which he would not be ruled. He would not stay +in Dublin, under any inducement whatever; and he would go to London. +I wrote very plainly to him about the risk he was running,--even +describing the desolate condition of the unsuccessful literary +adventurer in the dreary peopled wilderness, in which the friendless may +lie down and die alone, as the starved animal lies down and perishes in +the ravine in the desert. I showed him how impossible it was for me or +anybody to help him, except with a little money, till he had shown what +he could do; and I entreated him to wait two years,--one year,--six +months, before rushing on such a fate. Here, and here alone, he was +self-willed. At first he explained to me that he had one piece of +employment to rely on. He was to be the London correspondent of the +Repeal organ in Dublin,--the "Nation" newspaper. The pay was next to +nothing. He could not live, ever so frugally, on four times the amount: +but it was an engagement; and it would enable him to serve his country. +So, as there was nothing else to be done, Mr. H. started him for London, +with just money enough to carry him there. Once there, he was sure he +should do very well. + +I doubted this; and he was met, at the address he gave, (at an Irish +greengrocer's, the only person he knew in London,) by an order for money +enough to carry him over two or three weeks,--money given by two or +three friends to whom I ventured to open the case. I have seldom read +a happier letter than Patrick's first from London; but it was not even +then, nor for some time after, that he told me the main reason of his +horror at remaining in Dublin. + +He had hoped to support himself as a tutor while studying and practising +for the literary profession; and he had been engaged to teach the +children of a rich citizen,--not only the boys, but the daughter. He, an +engaging youth of three-and-twenty, with blue eyes and golden hair, an +innocent and noble expression of countenance, an open heart, a glowing +imagination, and an eloquent tongue, was set to teach Latin and literary +composition to a pretty, warm-hearted, romantic girl of twenty; and when +they were in love and engaged, the father considered himself the victim +of the basest treachery that ever man suffered under. In vain the young +people pleaded for leave to love and wait till Patrick could provide a +home for his wife. They asked no favor but to be let alone. Patrick's +family was as good as hers; and he had the education and manners of a +gentleman, without any objectionable habits or tastes, but with every +possible desire to win an honorable home for his beloved. I am not sure, +but I think there was a moment when they thought of eloping some day, +if nothing but the paternal displeasure intervened between them and +happiness; but it was not yet time for this. There was much to be done +first. What the father did first was to turn Patrick out of the house, +under such circumstances of ignominy as he could devise. What he did +next was the blow which broke the poor fellow down. Patrick had written +a letter, in answer to the treatment he had received, in which he +expressed his feelings as strongly as one might expect. This letter was +made the ground of a complaint at the police-office; and Patrick was +arrested, marched before the magistrate, and arraigned as the sender of +a threatening letter to a citizen. In vain he protested that no idea of +threatening anybody had been in his mind. The letter, as commented on by +his employer, was pronounced sufficiently menacing to justify his being +bound over to keep the peace towards this citizen and all his family. +The intention was, no doubt, to disgrace him, and put him out of the +question as a suitor; for no man could pretend to be really afraid of +violence from a candid youth like Patrick, who loved the daughter too +well to lift a finger against any one connected with her. The scheme +succeeded; for he believed it had broken his heart. He supposed himself +utterly disgraced in Dublin; and he could live there no longer. Hence +his self-will about going to London. + +In addition to this personal, there was a patriotic view. Very early in +our correspondence, Patrick told me that he was a Repealer. He fancied +himself a very moderate one, and likely on that account to do the more +good. Those were the days of O'Connell's greatest power; or, if it was +on the wane, no one yet recognized any change. Patrick knew one of the +younger O'Connells, and had been flatteringly noticed by the great Dan +himself, who had approved the idea of his going to London, hoped to see +him there some day, and had prophesied that this young friend of his +would do great things for the cause by his pen, and be conspicuous among +the saviours of Ireland. Patrick's head was not quite turned by this; +and he lamented, in his letters to me, the plans proposed and the +language held by the common run of O'Connell's followers. Those were the +days when the Catholic peasantry believed that "Repale" would make every +man the owner of the land he lived on, or of that which he wished to +live on; and the great Dan did not disabuse them. Those were the days +when poor men believed that "Repale" would release every one from the +debts he owed; and Dan did not contradict it. When Dan was dead, the +consequence of his not contradicting it was that a literal-minded fellow +here and there shot the creditor who asked for payment of the coat, or +the pig, or the meal. For all this delusion Patrick was sorry. He was +sorry to hear Protestant shopmen wishing for the day when Dublin streets +would be knee-deep in Catholic blood, and to hear Catholic shopmen +reciprocating the wish in regard to Protestant blood. He was anxious to +make me understand that he had no such notions, and that he even thought +O'Connell mistaken in appearing to countenance such mistakes. But still +he, Patrick, was a Repealer; and he wished me to know precisely what he +meant by that, and what he proposed to do in consequence. He thought it +a sin and shame that Ireland should be trodden under the heel of the +Saxon; he thought the domination of the English Parliament intolerable; +he considered it just that the Irish should make their own laws, own +their own soil, and manage their own affairs. He had no wish to bring in +the French, or any other enemy of England; and he was fully disposed to +be loyal to the Crown, if the Crown would let Ireland entirely alone. +Even the constant persecution inflicted upon Ireland had not destroyed +his loyalty to the Crown. Such were the views on which his letters to +the "Nation" newspaper were to be grounded. In reply, I contented myself +with proposing that he should make sure of his ground as he went along; +for which purpose he should ascertain what proportion of the people of +Ireland wished for a repeal of the Union; and what sort of people they +were who desired Repeal on the one hand, or continued Union on the +other. I hoped he would satisfy himself as to what Repeal could +and could not effect; and that he would study the history of Irish +Parliaments, to learn what the character and bearing of their +legislation had been, and to estimate the chances of good government by +that kind of legislature, in comparison with the Imperial Parliament. + +If any foreign reader should suppose it impossible, that, in modern +times, there can have been hopes entertained in Dublin of the streets +being inundated with blood, such reader may be referred to the evidence +afforded of Repeal sentiment five years later than the time of which I +write. When the heroes of that rising of 1848--of whom John Mitchell +is the sample best known in America--were tracked in their plans and +devices, it appeared what their proposed methods of warfare were. Some +of these, detailed in Repeal newspapers, and copied into American +journals, were proposed to the patriotic women of Ireland, as their +peculiar means of serving their country; and three especially. Red-hot +iron hoops, my readers may remember, were to be cast down from +balconies, so as to pin the arms of English soldiers marching in the +street, and scorch their hearts. Vitriol was to be flung into their +eyes. Boiling oil was to be poured upon them from windows. This is +enough. Nobody believes that the thing would ever have been done; but +the lively and repeated discussion of it shows how the feelings of the +ignorant are perverted, and the passions of party-men are stimulated in +Ireland, when unscrupulous leaders arise, proposing irrational projects. +The consequences have been seen in Popish and Protestant fights in +Ulster, and in the midnight drill of Phoenix Clubs in Munster, and in +John Mitchell's passion for fat negroes in the Slave States of America. +In Ireland such notions are regarded now as a delirious dream, except +by a John Mitchell here and there. Smith O'Brien himself declares that +there is nothing to be done while the people of Ireland are satisfied +with the government they live under; and that, if it were otherwise, +nothing can be done for a people which either elects jobbers to +Parliament, or suspects every man of being a traitor who proceeds, when +there, to do the business of his function. I suspected that Patrick +would find out some of these things for himself in London; and I left +him to make his own discoveries, when I had pointed out one or two paths +of inquiry. + +The process was a more rapid one than I had anticipated. He reported his +first letter to the "Nation" with great satisfaction. He had begun his +work in London. He went to the House of Commons, and came away sorely +perplexed. After having heard and written so much of the wrongs of +Ireland under the domination of the English Parliament, he found that +Ireland actually and practically formed a part of that Parliament,--the +legislature being, not English, but Imperial. He must have known this +before; but he had never felt it. He now saw that Ireland was as well +represented as England or Scotland; that political offices were held in +fair proportion by Irishmen; and that the Irish members engrossed much +more than a fair share of the national time in debate and projects of +legislation. He saw at once that here was an end of all excuse for talk +of oppression by Parliament, and of all complaints which assumed that +Ireland was unrepresented. He was previously aware that Ireland was +more lightly taxed than the rest of the empire. The question remained, +whether a local legislature would or would not be a better thing than a +share in the Imperial Parliament. This was a fair subject of argument; +but he must now dismiss all notions grounded on the mistake of Ireland +being unrepresented, and oppressed by the representatives of other +people. + +In the letter which disclosed these new views Patrick reported his visit +to O'Connell. He had reminded his friend, the junior O'Connell, of Dan's +invitation to him to go to see him in London; and he had looked forward +to their levee with delight and expectation. Whether he had candidly +expressed his thoughts about the actual representation of Ireland, I +don't know; but it was plain that he had not much enjoyed the interview. +O'Connell looked very well: the levee was crowded: O'Connell was +surrounded by ardent patriots: the junior O'Connell had led Patrick up +to his father with particular kindness. Still, there was no enthusiasm +in the report; and the next letter showed the reason why. Patrick could +not understand O'Connell at all. It was certain that Dan remembered him; +and he could not have forgotten the encouragement he gave him to write +on behalf of his country; yet now he was cold, even repellent in his +manner; and he tried to pretend that he did not know who Patrick was. +What could this mean? + +Again I trusted to Patrick's finding out for himself what it meant. To +be brief about a phase of human experience which has nothing new in it, +Patrick presently saw that the difficulty of governing Ireland by a +local legislature, and executive is this:--that no man is tolerated from +the moment he can do more than talk. Irish members under O'Connell's eye +were for the most part talkers only. Then and since, every Irishman +who accepts the office so vehemently demanded is suspected of a good +understanding with Englishmen, and soon becomes reviled as a traitor +and place-hunter. Between the mere talkers and the proscribed +office-holders, Ireland would get none of her business done, if the +Imperial Government did not undertake affairs, and see that Ireland was +taken care of by somebody or other. Patrick saw that this way of +putting Government in abeyance was a mild copy of what happened when a +Parliament sat in Dublin, perpetrating the most insolent tyranny and the +vilest jobs ever witnessed under any representative system. He told me, +very simply, that the people of Ireland should send to Parliament men +whom they could trust, and should trust them to act when there: the +people should either demand a share of office for their countrymen, or +make up their minds to go without; they ought not first to demand office +for Irishmen, and then call every Irishman a traitor and self-seeker who +took it. In a very short time he told me that he found he had much to +unlearn as well as learn: that many things of which he had been most +sure now turned out to be mistakes, and many very plain matters to be +exceedingly complicated; but that the one thing about which there could +be no mistake was, that, in such a state of opinion, he was no proper +guide for the readers of the "Nation," and he had accordingly sent in +his resignation of his appointment, together with some notices to the +editor of the different light in which Irish matters appear outside the +atmosphere of Repeal meetings. + +In thus cutting loose from his only means of pecuniary support, Patrick +forfeited also his patriotic character. He was as thoroughly ruined in +the eyes of Repealers as if he had denounced the "Saxon" one hour and +the next crept into some warm place in the Custom-House on his knees. +Here ended poor Patrick's short political life, after, I think, two +letters to the "Nation," and here ended all hope of aid from his +countrymen in London. His letter was very moving. He knew himself to be +mortified by O'Connell's behavior to him; but he felt that he could not +submit to be regarded with suspicion because he had come to see for +himself how matters stood. He did not give up Repeal yet: he only wanted +to study the case on better knowledge; and in order to have a +perfectly clear conscience and judgment, he gave up his only pecuniary +resource,--his love and a future home being in the distance, and always +in view, all the time. Here, in spite of some lingering of old hopes, +two scenes of his young life had closed. His Irish life was over, and +his hope of political service. + +I had before written about him to two or three literary friends in +London; and now I felt bound to see what could be done in opening a way +for him. He had obtained the insertion of a tale in a magazine, for +which he had one guinea in payment. This raised his spirits, and gave +him a hope of independence; for it was a parting of the clouds, and +there was no saying how much sunlight might be let down. He was willing +to apply himself to any drudgery; but his care to undertake nothing that +he was not sure of doing well was very striking. He might have obtained +good work as classical proof-corrector; but he feared, that, though his +classical attainments were good, his training had not qualified him +for the necessary accuracy. He had some employment of the sort, if I +remember right, which defrayed a portion of his small expenses. His +expenses were indeed small. He told me all his little gains and his +weekly outlay; and I was really afraid that he did not allow himself +sufficient food. Yet he knew that there was a little money in my hands, +when he wanted it. His letters became now very gay in spirits. He keenly +relished the society into which he was invited; and, on the other hand, +everybody liked him. It was amusing to me, in my sick room, three +hundred miles off, to hear of the impression he made, with his +innocence, his fresh delight in his new life, his candor, his modesty, +and his bright cleverness,--and then, again, to learn how diligently he +had set about learning what I, his correspondent, was really like. In +his dreams he had seen me very aged,--he thought upwards of eighty; and +he had never doubted of the fact being so. In one letter he told me, +that, finding a brother of mine was then in London, he was going that +afternoon to a public meeting to see him, in order to have some idea of +my aspect. A mutual friend told me afterwards that Patrick had come away +quite bewildered and disappointed. He had expected to see in my brother +a gray-haired ancient; whereas he found a man under forty. I really +believe he was disturbed that his dreams had misled him. Yet I never +observed any other sign of superstition in him. + +At last the happy day came when he had a literary task worthy of him,--a +sort of test of his capacity for reviewing. One of the friends to whom +I had introduced him was then sub-editor of the "Athenaeum,"--a weekly +periodical of higher reputation at that time than now. Patrick was +commissioned to review a book of some weight and consequence,--Sir +Robert Kane's "Industrial Resources of Ireland,"--and he did it so well +that the conductors hoped to give him a good deal of employment. What +they gave him would have led to more; and thus he really was justified +in his exultation at having come to London. I remember, that, in the +midst of his joy, he startled me by some light mention of his having +spit blood, after catching cold,--a thing which had happened before in +Ireland. In answer to my inquiries, my friends told me that he certainly +looked very delicate, but made light of it. It happened, unfortunately, +that he was obliged just then to change his lodging. He increased his +cold by going about in bad weather to look for another. He found one, +however, and settled himself, in hope of doing great things there. + +He had not been there a week before he rang his bell one day, and was +found bleeding from the lungs. His landlady called in a physician; +and it is probable that this gentleman did not know or suspect the +circumstances of his patient; for he not only ordered ice and various +expensive things, but took fees, while the poor patient was lying +forbidden to speak, and gnawed with anxiety as to where more money was +to come from, and with eagerness to get to work. His friends soon found +him out in his trouble; and I understood from him afterwards, and from +others who knew more about it than he did, that they were extremely +kind. I believe that one left a bank-note of a considerable amount at +the door, in a blank envelope. All charges were defrayed, and he was +bidden not to be anxious. Yet something must be done. What must it be? + +As soon as he was allowed to raise his head from his pillow, he wrote me +a note in pencil; and it afforded an opening for discussing his affairs +with him. He had some impression of his life's being in danger; for it +was now that he confided to me the whole story of his attachment, and +the sufferings attending it: but he was still sanguine about doing great +things in literature, and chafing at his unwilling idleness. I was +strongly of opinion that the best way of dealing with him was to be +perfectly open; and, after proposing that we should have no reserves, I +told him what (proceeding on his own report of his health) I should in +his place decide upon doing. His pride would cause him some pain in +either of the two courses which were open to him,--but, I thought, more +in one than the other. If he remained in his lodgings, he would break +his heart about being a burden (as he would say) to his friends; and he +would fret after work so as to give himself no chance of such recovery +as might be hoped for: whereas, if he could once cheerfully agree to +enter a hospital, he would have every chance of rallying, and all the +sooner for being free from any painful sense of obligation. If the +treatment should succeed, this passage in his life would be something to +smile at hereafter, or to look back upon with sound satisfaction; and if +not, he would have friends about him, just as he would in a lodging. + +The effect was what I wished. My letter gave no offence, and did him no +harm. He only begged for a few days more, before deciding that he might +satisfy himself whether he was getting well or not: if not, he would +cheerfully go wherever his friends advised, and believe that the plan +was the best for him. + +In those few days arrangements were made for his being received at +the Sanatorium,--an institution in which sick persons who had either +previously subscribed, or who were the nominees of subscribers, were +received, and well tended for a guinea a week, under the comfortable +circumstances of a private house. Each patient had a separate chamber; +and the medical attendance, diet, and arrangements were of a far higher +order than poor Patrick could have commanded in lodgings. Above all, the +resident surgeon--now a distinguished physician, superintendent of a +lunatic asylum--was a man to make a friend of,--a man of cultivated +mind, tender heart, and cheerful and gentle manners. Patrick won his +heart at once; and every note of Patrick's glowed with affection for +Doctor H--. After a few weeks of alternating hope and fear, after a +natural series of fluctuations of spirits, Patrick wrote me a remarkably +quiet letter. He told me that both his doctors had given him a plain +answer to his question whether he could recover. They had told him +that it was impossible; but he could not learn from them how long they +thought he would live. He saw now, however, that he must give up his +efforts to work. He believed he could have worked a little: but perhaps +he was no judge; and if he really was dying, he could not be wrong in +obeying the directions of those who had the care of him. Once afterwards +he told me that his physicians did not, he saw, expect him to live many +months,--perhaps not even many weeks. + +It was now clear to my mind what would please him best. I told him, +that, if he liked to furnish me with the address of that house in Dublin +in which his thoughts chiefly lived, I would take care that the young +lady there should know that he died in honor, having fairly entered upon +the literary career which had always been his aspiration, and surrounded +by friends whose friendship was a distinction. His words in reply were +few, calm, and fervent, intimating that he now had not a care left in +the world: and Doctor H--wondered what had happened to make him so gay +from the hour he received my letter. + +His decline was a rapid one; and I soon learned, by very short notes, +that he hardly left his bed. When it was supposed that he would never +leave his room again, he surprised the whole household by a great feat. +I should have related before what a favorite he was with all the other +patients. He was the sunshine of the house while able to get to the +drawing-room, and the pet of each invalid by the chamber-fire. On +Christmas morning, he slipped out of bed, and managed to get his clothes +on, while alone, and was met outside his own door, bent on giving a +Christmas greeting to everybody in the house. He was indulged in this; +for it was of little consequence now what he did. He appeared at each +bedside, and at every sofa,--and not with any moving sentiment, but with +genuine gayety. It was full in his thoughts that he had not many days to +live, but he hoped the others had; and he entered into their prospect +of renewed health and activity. At night they said that Patrick had +brightened their Christmas Day. + +He died very soon after,--sinking at last with perfect +consciousness,--writing messages to me on his slate while his fingers +would hold the pencil,--calm and cheerful without intermission. After +his death, when the last offices were to be begun, my letters were taken +warm from his breast. Every line that I had ever written to him was +there; and the packet was sent to me by Doctor H--bound round with the +green ribbon which he had himself tied before he quite lost the power. +The kind friends who had watched over him during the months of his +London life wrote to me not to trouble myself about his funeral. They +buried him honorably, and two of his distinguished friends followed him +to the grave. + +Of course, I immediately performed my promise. I had always intended +that not only the young lady, but her father, should know what we +thought of Patrick, and what he might have been, if he had lived. I +wrote to that potential personage, telling him of all the facts of the +case, except the poverty, which might be omitted as essentially a slight +and temporary circumstance. I reported of his life of industry and +simple self-denial,--of his prospects, his friendships, his sweet and +gay decline and departure, and his honorable funeral. No answer was +needed; and I had supposed there would hardly be one. If there should +be one, it was not likely to be very congenial to the mood of Patrick's +friends: but I could hardly have conceived of anything so bad as it was. +The man wrote that it was not wonderful that any young man should get on +under the advantage of my patronage; and that it was to be hoped that +this young man would have turned out more worthy of such patronage than +he was when he ungratefully returned his obligations to his employer by +engaging the affections of his daughter. The young man had caused great +trouble and anxiety to one who, now he was dead, was willing to forgive +him; but no circumstance could ever change the aspect of his conduct, +in regard to his treacherous behavior to his benefactor; and so forth. +There was no sign of any consciousness of imprudence on the father's +own part; but strong indications of vindictive hatred, softened in +the expression by being mixed up with odious flatteries to Patrick's +literary friends. The only compensation for the disgust of this letter +was the confirmation it afforded of Patrick's narrative, in which, it +was clear, he had done no injustice to his oppressor. + +I have not bestowed so much thought as this on the man and his letter, +from the day I received it, till now; but it was necessary to speak of +it at the close of the story. I lose sight of the painful incidents in +thinking of Patrick himself. I only wish I had once seen his face, that +I might know how near the truth is the image that I have formed of him. + +There may have been, there no doubt have been, other such young +Irishmen, whose lives have been misdirected for want of the knowledge +which Patrick gained in good time by the accident of his coming to +England. I fear that many such have lived a life of turbulence, +or impotent discontent, under the delusion that their country was +politically oppressed. The mistake may now be considered at an end. +It is sufficiently understood in Ireland that her woes have been from +social and not political causes, from the day of Catholic emancipation. +But it is a painful thought what Patrick's short life might have been, +if he had remained under the O'Connell influence; and what the lives of +hundreds more have been,--rendered wild by delusion, and wretched by +strife and lawlessness, for want of a gleam of that clear daylight which +made a sound citizen of a passionate Young Repealer. + + + + +BREAD AND THE NEWSPAPER. + + +This is the new version of the _Panem et Circenses_ of the Roman +populace. It is our _ultimatum_, as that was theirs. They must have +something to eat, and the circus-shows to look at. We must have +something to eat, and the papers to read. + +Everything else we can give up. If we are rich, we can lay down our +carriages, stay away from Newport or Saratoga, and adjourn the trip to +Europe _sine die_. If we live in a small way, there are at least new +dresses and bonnets and every-day luxuries which we can dispense with. +If the young Zouave of the family looks smart in his new uniform, +its respectable head is content, though he himself grow seedy as a +caraway-umbel late in the season. He will cheerfully calm the perturbed +nap of his old beaver by patient brushing in place of buying a new one, +if only the Lieutenant's jaunty cap is what it should be. We all take a +pride in sharing the epidemic economy of the time. Only _bread and the +newspaper_ we must have, whatever else we do without. + +How this war is simplifying our mode of being! We live on our emotions, +as the sick man is said in the common speech to be nourished by his +fever. Our common mental food has become distasteful, and what would +have been intellectual luxuries at other times are now absolutely +repulsive. + +All this change in our manner of existence implies that we have +experienced some very profound impression, which will sooner or later +betray itself in permanent effects on the minds and bodies of many among +us. We cannot forget Corvisart's observation of the frequency with which +diseases of the heart were noticed as the consequence of the terrible +emotions produced by the scenes of the great French Revolution. Laennec +tells the story of a convent, of which he was the medical director, +where all the nuns were subjected to the severest penances and schooled +in the most painful doctrines. They all became consumptive soon after +their entrance, so that, in the course of his ten years' attendance, all +the inmates died out two or three times, and were replaced by new ones. +He does not hesitate to attribute the disease from which they suffered +to those depressing moral influences to which they were subjected. + +So far we have noticed little more than disturbances of the nervous +system as a consequence of the war excitement in non-combatants. Take +the first trifling example which comes to our recollection. A sad +disaster to the Federal army was told the other day in the presence of +two gentlemen and a lady. Both the gentlemen complained of a sudden +feeling at the _epigastrium_, or, less learnedly, the pit of the +stomach, changed color, and confessed to a slight tremor about the +knees. The lady had a _"grande revolution_," as French patients +say,--went home, and kept her bed for the rest of the day. Perhaps the +reader may smile at the mention of such trivial indispositions, but in +more sensitive natures death itself follows in some cases from no more +serious cause. An old gentleman fell senseless in fatal apoplexy, on +hearing of Napoleon's return from Elba. One of our early friends, who +recently died of the same complaint, was thought to have had his attack +mainly in consequence of the excitements of the time. + +We all know what the _war fever_ is in our young men,--what a devouring +passion it becomes in those whom it assails. Patriotism is the fire +of it, no doubt, but this is fed with fuel of all sorts. The love of +adventure, the contagion of example, the fear of losing the chance of +participating in the great events of the time, the desire of personal +distinction, all help to produce those singular transformations which +we often witness, turning the most peaceful of our youth into the most +ardent of our soldiers. But something of the same fever in a different +form reaches a good many non-combatants, who have no thought of losing a +drop of precious blood belonging to themselves or their families. Some +of the symptoms we shall mention are almost universal; they are as plain +in the people we meet everywhere as the marks of an influenza, when that +is prevailing. + +The first is a nervous restlessness of a very peculiar character. Men +cannot think, or write, or attend to their ordinary business. They +stroll up and down the streets, they saunter out upon the public places. +We confessed to an illustrious author that we laid down the volume +of his work which we were reading when the war broke out. It was as +interesting as a romance, but the romance of the past grew pale before +the red light of the terrible present. Meeting the same author not long +afterwards, he confessed that he had laid down his pen at the same time +that we had closed his book. He could not write about the sixteenth +century any more than we could read about it, while the nineteenth was +in the very agony and bloody sweat of its great sacrifice. + +Another most eminent scholar told us in all simplicity that he had +fallen into such a state that he would read the same telegraphic +despatches over and over again in different papers, as if they were +new, until he felt as if he were an idiot. Who did not do just the same +thing, and does not often do it still, now that the first flush of the +fever is over? Another person always goes through the side streets on +his way for the noon _extra_,--he is so afraid somebody will meet him +and _tell_ the news he wishes to _read_, first on the bulletin-board, +and then in the great capitals and leaded type of the newspaper. + +When any startling piece of war-news comes, it keeps repeating itself +in our minds in spite of all we can do. The same trains of thought go +tramping round in circle through the brain like the supernumeraries that +make up the grand army of a stage-show. Now, if a thought goes round +through the brain a thousand times in a day, it will have worn as +deep a track as one which has passed through it once a week for +twenty years. This accounts for the ages we seem to have lived +since the twelfth of April last, and, to state it more generally, for +that _ex post facto_ operation of a great calamity, or any very powerful +impression, which we once illustrated by the image of a stain spreading +backwards from the leaf of life open before us through all those which +we have already turned. + +Blessed are those who can sleep quietly in times like these! Yet, not +wholly blessed, either; for what is more painful than the awaking from +peaceful unconsciousness to a sense that there is something wrong, we +cannot at first think what,--and then groping our way about through the +twilight of our thoughts until we come full upon the misery, which, like +some evil bird, seemed to have flown away, but which sits waiting for us +on its perch by our pillow in the gray of the morning? + +The converse of this is perhaps still more painful. Many have the +feeling in their waking hours that the trouble they are aching with is, +after all, only a dream,--if they will rub their eyes briskly enough and +shake themselves, they will awake out of it, and find all their supposed +grief is unreal. This attempt to cajole ourselves out of an ugly fact +always reminds us of those unhappy flies who have been indulging in the +dangerous sweets of the paper prepared for their especial use. + +Watch one of them. He does not feel quite well,--at least, he suspects +himself of indisposition. Nothing serious,--let us just rub our +fore-feet together, as the enormous creature who provides for us rubs +his hands, and all will be right. He rubs them with that peculiar +twisting movement of his, and pauses for the effect. No! all is not +quite right yet.--Ah! it is our head that is not set on just as it ought +to be. Let us settle _that_ where it should be, and _then_ we shall +certainly be in good trim again. So he pulls his head about as an old +lady adjusts her cap, and passes his fore-paw over it like a kitten +washing herself.--Poor fellow! It is not a fancy, but a fact, that he +has to deal with. If he could read the letters at the head of the sheet, +he would see they were _Fly-Paper_.--So with us, when, in our waking +misery, we try to think we dream! Perhaps very young persons may not +understand this; as we grow older, our waking and dreaming life run more +and more into each other. + +Another symptom of our excited condition is seen in the breaking up of +old habits. The newspaper is as imperious as a Russian Ukase; it will be +had, and it will be read. To this all else must give place. If we must +go out at unusual hours to get it, we shall go, in spite of after-dinner +nap or evening somnolence. If it finds us in company, it will not stand +on ceremony, but cuts short the compliment and the story by the divine +right of its telegraphic despatches. + +War is a very old story, but it is a new one to this generation of +Americans. Our own nearest relation in the ascending line remembers the +Revolution well. How should she forget it? Did she not lose her doll, +which was left behind, when she was carried out of Boston, then growing +uncomfortable by reason of cannon-balls dropping in from the neighboring +heights at all hours,--in token of which see the tower of Brattle-Street +Church at this very day? War in her memory means '76. As for the brush +of 1812, "we did not think much about that"; and everybody knows that +the Mexican business did not concern us much, except in its political +relations. No! War is a new thing to all of us who are not in the last +quarter of their century. We are learning many strange matters from our +fresh experience. And besides, there are new conditions of existence +which make war as it is with us very different from war as it has been. + +The first and obvious difference consists in the fact that the whole +nation is now penetrated by the ramifications of a network of iron +nerves which flash sensation and volition backward and forward to and +from towns and provinces as if they were organs and limbs of a single +living body. The second is the vast system of iron muscles which, as it +were, move the limbs of the mighty organism one upon another. What was +the railroad-force which put the Sixth Regiment in Baltimore on the 19th +of April but a contraction and extension of the arm of Massachusetts +with a clenched fist full of bayonets at the end of it? + +This perpetual intercommunication, joined to the power of instantaneous +action, keeps us always alive with excitement. It is not a breathless +courier who comes back with the report from an army we have lost sight +of for a month, nor a single bulletin which tells us all we are to know +for a week of some great engagement, but almost hourly paragraphs, laden +with truth or falsehood as the case may be, making us restless always +for the last fact or rumor they are telling. And so of the movements of +our armies. To-night the stout lumbermen of Maine are encamped under +their own fragrant pines. In a score or two of hours they are among the +tobacco-fields and the slave-pens of Virginia. The war passion burned +like scattered coals of fire in the households of Revolutionary times; +now it rushes all through the land like a flame over the prairie. And +this instant diffusion of every fact and feeling produces another +singular effect in the equalizing and steadying of public opinion. We +may not be able to see a month ahead of us; but as to what has passed, +a week afterwards it is as thoroughly talked out and judged as it would +have been in a whole season before our national nervous system was +organized. + + "As the wild tempest wakes the slumbering sea, + Thou only teachest all that man can be!" + +We indulged in the above apostrophe to War in a Phi Beta Kappa poem of +long ago, which we liked better before we read Mr. Cutler's beautiful +prolonged lyric delivered at the recent anniversary of that Society. + +Oftentimes, in paroxysms of peace and good-will towards all mankind, we +have felt twinges of conscience about the passage,--especially when one +of our orators showed us that a ship of war costs as much to build and +keep as a college, and that every port-hole we could stop would give us +a new professor. Now we begin to think that there was some meaning in +our poor couplet. War _has_ taught us, as nothing else could, what we +can be and are. It has exalted our manhood and our womanhood, and driven +us all back upon our substantial human qualities, for a long time more +or less kept out of sight by the spirit of commerce, the love of art, +science, or literature, or other qualities not belonging to all of us as +men and women. + +It is at this very moment doing more to melt away the petty social +distinctions which keep generous souls apart from each other, than the +preaching of the Beloved Disciple himself would do. We are finding out +that not only "patriotism is eloquence," but that heroism is gentility. +All ranks are wonderfully equalized under the fire of a masked battery. +The plain artisan or the rough fireman, who faces the lead and iron like +a man, is the truest representative we can show of the heroes of +Crecy and Agincourt. And if one of our fine gentlemen puts off his +straw-colored kids and stands by the other, shoulder to shoulder, or +leads him on to the attack, he is as honorable in our eyes and in theirs +as if he were ill-dressed and his hands were soiled with labor. + +Even our poor "Brahmins,"--whom a critic in ground-glass spectacles (the +same who grasps his statistics by the blade and strikes at his +supposed antagonist with the handle) oddly confounds with the "bloated +aristocracy," whereas they are very commonly pallid, undervitalized, +shy, sensitive creatures, whose only birthright is an aptitude for +learning,--even these poor New England Brahmins of ours, _subvirates_ +of an organizable base as they often are, count as full men, if their +courage is big enough for the uniform which hangs so loosely about their +slender figures. + +A young man was drowned not very long ago in the river running under our +windows. A few days afterwards a field-piece was dragged to the water's +edge and fired many times over the river. We asked a bystander, who +looked like a fisherman, what that was for. It was to "break the gall," +he said, and so bring the drowned person to the surface. A strange +physiological fancy and a very odd _non sequitur_; but that is not our +present point. A good many extraordinary objects do really come to the +surface when the great guns of war shake the waters, as when they roared +over Charleston harbor. + +Treason came up, hideous, fit only to be huddled into its dishonorable +grave. But the wrecks of precious virtues, which had been covered with +the waves of prosperity, came up also. And all sorts of unexpected and +unheard-of things, which had lain unseen during our national life of +fourscore years, came up and are coming up daily, shaken from their bed +by the concussions of the artillery bellowing around us. + +It is a shame to own it, but there were persons otherwise respectable +not unwilling to say that they believed the old valor of Revolutionary +times had died out from among us. They talked about our own Northern +people as the English in the last centuries used to talk about the +French,--Goldsmith's old soldier, it may be remembered, called one +Englishman good for five of them. As Napoleon spoke of the English, +again, as a nation of shopkeepers, so these persons affected to consider +the multitude of their countrymen as unwarlike artisans,--forgetting +that Paul Revere taught himself the value of liberty in working upon +gold, and Nathaniel Greene fitted himself to shape armies in the labor +of forging iron. + +These persons have learned better now. The bravery of our free +working-people was overlaid, but not smothered, sunken, but not drowned. +The hands which had been busy conquering the elements had only to change +their weapons and their adversaries, and they were as ready to conquer +the masses of living force opposed to them as they had been to build +towns, to dam rivers, to hunt whales, to harvest ice, to hammer brute +matter into every shape civilization can ask for. + +Another great fact came to the surface, and is coming up every day in +new shapes,--that we are one people. It is easy to say that a man is a +man in Maine or Minnesota, but not so easy to feel it, all through our +bones and marrow. The camp is deprovincializing us very fast. Poor +Winthrop, marching with the city _elegants_, seems almost to have been +astonished to find how wonderfully human were the hard-handed men of the +Eighth Massachusetts. It takes all the nonsense out of everybody, or +ought to do it, to see how fairly the real manhood of a country is +distributed over its surface. And then, just as we are beginning to +think our own soil has a monopoly of heroes as well as of cotton, up +turns a regiment of gallant Irishmen, like the Sixty-Ninth, to show us +that continental provincialism is as bad as that of Coos County, New +Hampshire, or of Broadway, New York. + +Here, too, side by side in the same great camp, are half a dozen +chaplains, representing half a dozen modes of religious belief. When the +masked battery opens, does the "Baptist" Lieutenant believe in his +heart that God takes better care of him than of his "Congregationalist" +Colonel? Does any man really suppose, that, of a score of noble young +fellows who have just laid down their lives for their country, +the _Homoousians_ are received to the mansions of bliss, and the +_Homoiousians_ translated from the battle-field to the abodes of +everlasting woe? War not only teaches what man can be, but it teaches +also what he must not be. He must not be a bigot and a fool in the +presence of that day of judgment proclaimed by the trumpet which calls +to battle, and where a man should have but two thoughts: to do his duty, +and trust his Maker. Let our brave dead come back from the fields where +they have fallen for law and liberty, and if you will follow them to +their graves, you will find out what the Broad Church means; the narrow +church is sparing of its exclusive formulae over the coffins wrapped in +the flag which the fallen heroes had defended! Very little comparatively +do we hear at such times of the dogmas on which men differ; very much of +the faith and trust in which all sincere Christians can agree. It is a +noble lesson, and nothing less noisy than the voice of cannon can teach +it so that it shall be heard over all the angry voices of theological +disputants. + +Now, too, we have a chance to test the sagacity of our friends, and to +get at their principles of judgment. Perhaps most of us will agree that +our faith in domestic prophets has been diminished by the experience of +the last six months. We had the notable predictions attributed to the +Secretary of State, which so unpleasantly refused to fulfil themselves. +We were infested at one time with a set of ominous-looking seers, who +shook their heads and muttered obscurely about some mighty preparations +that were making to substitute the rule of the minority for that of the +majority. Organizations were darkly hinted at; some thought our armories +would be seized; and there are not wanting ancient women in the +neighboring University town who consider that the country was saved by +the intrepid band of students who stood guard, night after night, over +the G.R. cannon and the pile of balls in the Cambridge Arsenal. + +As a general rule, it is safe to say that the best prophecies are those +which the sages _remember_ after the event prophesied of has come to +pass, and remind us that they have made long ago. Those who are rash +enough to predict publicly beforehand commonly give us what they hope, +or what they fear, or some conclusion from an abstraction of their own, +or some guess founded on private information not half so good as what +everybody gets who reads the papers,--_never_ by any possibility a word +that we can depend on, simply because there are cob-webs of contingency +between every to-day and to-morrow that no field-glass can penetrate +when fifty of them lie woven one over another. Prophesy as much as you +like, but always _hedge_. Say that you think the rebels are weaker than +is commonly supposed, but, on the other hand, that they may prove to be +even stronger than is anticipated. Say what you like,--only don't be too +peremptory and dogmatic; we _know_ that wiser men than you have been +notoriously deceived in their predictions in this very matter. + + _Ibis et redibis nunquam in bello peribis._ + +Let that be your model; and remember, on peril of your reputation as a +prophet, not to put a stop before or after the _nunquam_. + +There are two or three facts connected with _time_, besides that already +referred to, which strike us very forcibly in their relation to the +great events passing around us. We spoke of the long period seeming to +have elapsed since this war began. The buds were then swelling which +held the leaves that are still green. It seems as old as Time himself. +We cannot fail to observe how the mind brings together the scenes of +to-day and those of the old Revolution. We shut up eighty years into +each other like the joints of a pocket-telescope. When the young men +from Middlesex dropped in Baltimore the other day, it seemed to bring +Lexington and the other Nineteenth of April close to us. War has always +been the mint in which the world's history has been coined, and now +every day or week or month has a new medal for us. It was Warren that +the first impression bore in the last great coinage; if it is Ellsworth +now, the new face hardly seems fresher than the old. All battle-fields +are alike in their main features. The young fellows who fell in our +earlier struggle seemed like old men to us until within these few +months; now we remember they were like these fiery youth we are cheering +as they go to the fight; it seems as if the grass of our bloody +hill-side was crimsoned but yesterday, and the cannon-ball imbedded in +the church-tower would feel warm, if we laid our hand upon it. + +Nay, in this our quickened life we feel that all the battles from +earliest time to our own day, where Right and Wrong have grappled, are +but one great battle, varied with brief pauses or hasty bivouacs upon +the field of conflict. The issues seem to vary, but it is always a +right against a claim, and, however the struggle of the hour may go, a +movement onward of the campaign, which uses defeat as well as victory to +serve its mighty ends. The very weapons of our warfare change less than +we think. Our bullets and cannon-balls have lengthened into bolts like +those which whistled out of old arbalests. Our soldiers fight with +Bowie-knives, such as are pictured on the walls of Theban tombs, wearing +a newly-invented head-gear as old as the days of the Pyramids. + +Whatever miseries this war brings upon us, it is making us wiser, +and, we trust, better. Wiser, for we are learning our weakness, our +narrowness, our selfishness, our ignorance, in lessons of sorrow and +shame. Better, because all that is noble in men and women is demanded by +the time, and our people are rising to the standard the time calls for. +For this is the question the hour is putting to each of us: Are you +ready, if need be, to sacrifice all that you have and hope for in this +world, that the generations to follow you may inherit a whole country +whose natural condition shall be peace, and not a broken province which +must live under the perpetual threat, if not in the constant presence, +of war and all that war brings with it? If we are all ready for this +sacrifice, battles may be lost, but the campaign and its grand object +must be won. + +Heaven is very kind in its way of putting questions to mortals. We are +not abruptly asked to give up all that we most care for, in view of the +momentous issues before us. Perhaps we shall never be asked to give up +all, but we have already been called upon to part with much that is dear +to us, and should be ready to yield the rest as it is called for. The +time may come when even the cheap public print shall be a burden our +means cannot support, and we can only listen in the square that was once +the market-place to the voices of those who proclaim defeat or victory. +Then there will be only our daily food left. When we have nothing to +read and nothing to eat, it will be a favorable moment to offer a +compromise. At present we have all that Nature absolutely demands,--we +can live on bread and the newspaper. + + * * * * * + + +"UNDER THE CLOUD AND THROUGH THE SEA." + + + So moved they, when false Pharaoh's legion pressed, + Chariots and horsemen following furiously,-- + Sons of old Israel, at their God's behest, + Under the cloud and through the swelling sea. + + So passed they, fearless, where the parted wave, + With cloven crest uprearing from the sand,-- + A solemn aisle before,--behind, a grave,-- + Rolled to the beckoning of Jehovah's hand. + + So led He them, in desert marches grand, + By toils sublime, with test of long delay, + On, to the borders of that Promised Land + Wherein their heritage of glory lay. + + And Jordan raged along his rocky bed, + And Amorite spears flashed keen and fearfully: + Still the same pathway must their footsteps tread,-- + Under the cloud and through the threatening sea. + + God works no otherwise. No mighty birth + But comes by throes of mortal agony; + No man-child among nations of the earth + But findeth baptism in a stormy sea. + + Sons of the Saints who faced their Jordan-flood + In fierce Atlantic's unretreating wave,-- + Who by the Red Sea of their glorious blood + Reached to the Freedom that your blood shall save! + + O Countrymen! God's day is not yet done! + He leaveth not His people utterly! + Count it a covenant, that He leads us on + Beneath the Cloud and through the crimson Sea! + + + + +JOURNAL OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. + + +The following journal was written by the Captain's Quartermaster on +board the Sloop Revenge, of Newport, Rhode Island, on a cruise against +the Spaniards in the year 1741. Rhode Island was famous at that time +for the number and the success of her privateers. There was but little +objection felt to the profession of privateering. Franklin had not yet +roused by his effective protest the moral sentiment of the civilized +world against it. The privateers that were fitted out in those days were +intended for service against foreign enemies; they were not manned by +rebels, with design to ruin their loyal fellow-citizens. England and +Spain were at war, and the West Indian seas were white with the sails of +national fleets and private armed vessels. Privateering afforded a vent +for the active and restless spirits of the colonies; it was not without +some creditable associations; and the life of a privateersman was full +of the charms of novelty, adventure, and risk. This journal shows +something of its character. + +A journal _of all the transactions on board the sloop_ REVENGE, _Benj'n +Norton Com'r by God's grace and under his protection, bound on a +cruising voyage against the Spaniards. Begun June the 5th, 1741_. + +_Friday, 5th._ This day, at 4 A.M., the Cap't went from Taylor's wharf +on board his sloop, which lay off of Connanicut, & at 6 o'clock Cap't +John Freebody [the chief owner] came off in the pinnace with several +hands. We directly weighed anchor with 40 hands, officers included, +bound to New York to get more hands, a Doctor, and some more provisions +and other stores we stood in need of. The wind coming contrary, was +obliged to put back. Came to an anchor again under Connanicut at 8 P.M. + +_Saturday, 6th._ Weighed from under Connanicut at 4 A.M. with a small +breeze of wind. Met several vessells bound to Newport and Boston. At 7 +P.M. anchored under Block Island, over against the L10,000 Pear [pier?]. +Bought 10s. worth of Codfish for the people. + +_Sunday, 7th._ About 4 A.M. weighed from Block Island, and Monday, the +8th instant, at 9 A.M., anchored in Huntington Bay. + +_Tuesday, 9th._ Weighed from Huntington Bay at 3 P.M. At 11 came to the +white stone. Fired a gun & beat the drum to let them know what we were. +The Ferryboat came off & told us we could not get hands at York, for the +sloops fitted by the country had got them all. At 12 came to anchor at +the 2 Brothers. At 4 took an acc't of all the provisions on board, with +the cost; together with a list of all the people on board. Price, a hand +that came with us from Rhode Island, askt leave to go to York to see +his wife. Set a shilling crazy fellow ashore, not thinking him fit to +proceed the Voyage, his name unknown to me. + +_Wednesday, 10th._ This morning, about 5 A.M., Cap't Freebody went up to +York in the pinnace to get provisions and leave to beat about for more +hands. At 1 P.M. the Pinnace returned and brought word to Cap't Norton +from Mr. Freebody that he had waited on his Honour the Gov'r, and that +he would not give him leave to beat up for Volunteers. The chief reason +he gave was that the City was thinned of hands by the 2 country sloops +that were fitted out by the Council to cruise after the Spanish +privateers on the coast, and that his Grace the Duke of Newcastle had +wrote him word, that, if Admiral Vernon or Gen. Wentworth[A] should +write for more recruits, to use his endeavors to get them, so that he +could not give encouragement to any privateers to take their men away. +Three of the hands that went up to York left us. At 4 P.M. Edward +Sampford, our pilot, went ashore in a canoe with four more hands, +without leave from the Cap'n. When he came on board again the Cap'n +talked to him, & found that he was a mutinous, quarrelsome fellow, and +so ordered him to bundle up his clothes & go ashore for good. He carried +with him 5 more hands. After they were gone, I read the articles to +those on board, who readily signed; so hope we shall lead a peaceable +life. Remain, out of the 41 hands that came with us from Rhode Island, +29 hands. + +[Footnote A: Admiral Vernon (whose name is familiar to every +American,--Mount Vernon was named in his honor) was in command of +the British fleet in the Spanish Main. General Wentworth, an officer +"without experience, authority, or resolution," had command of the land +forces in the West Indies. All the North American, colonies, except +Georgia, which was too recently settled, and whose own borders were too +much exposed, had been called upon to give aid to the expedition against +the Spaniards, and a regiment thirty-six hundreds strong was actually +supplied by them. The war was one in which the colonists took an active +interest.] + +_Friday, 12th._ Went to York with a letter from the Cap'n to Mr. +Freebody, who ordered the vessel up to York. Three of our hands left me +to see some negroes burnt,[B] took a pilot in to bring the vessel up, +and so returned on board at 3 P.M. + +[Footnote B: This little, indifferent phrase refers to one of the most +shocking and cruel incidents of the colonial history of New York, the +result of a delusion "less notorious," says Mr. Hildreth, (_Hist, of +the United States, ii. 391_,) "but not less lamentable, than the Salem +witchcraft. The city of New York now contained some seven or eight +thousand inhabitants, of whom twelve or fifteen hundred were slaves. +Nine fires in rapid succession, most of them, however, merely the +burning of chimneys, produced a perfect insanity of terror. An indented +servant-woman purchased her liberty and secured a reward of one hundred +pounds by pretending to give information of a plot formed by a low +tavern-keeper, her master, and three negroes, to burn the city and +murder the whites. This story was confirmed and amplified by an Irish +prostitute convicted of a robbery, who, to recommend herself to mercy, +reluctantly turned informer. Numerous arrests had been already made +among the slaves and free blacks. Many others followed. The eight +lawyers who then composed the bar of New York all assisted by turns in +behalf of the prosecution. The prisoners, who had no counsel, were tried +and convicted upon most insufficient evidence. Many confessed to save +their lives, and then accused others. Thirteen unhappy convicts were +burned at the stake, eighteen were hanged, and seventy-one transported." +Such are the panics of a slaveholding community!] + +_Saturday, 13th._ At 5 A.M. weighed from the 2 Brothers and went to +York. At 7 anchored off the town. Saluted it with 7 guns. Ship't 7 hands +to proceed the voyage. + +_Sunday, 14th._ Between 6 & 7 A.M. came in a brig from Aberdeen with 40 +servants,[C] but brings no news. + +[Footnote C: At this time much of the agricultural and domestic labor in +the colonies, especially south of New England, was performed by indented +servants brought from Great Britain, Ireland, and Germany. They were +generally an ill-used class. Their services were purchased of the +captains who brought them over; the purchaser had a legal property in +them during the time they were bound for, could sell or bequeath them, +and, like other chattels, they were liable to be seized for debts.] + +_Thursday, 18th._ At 11 A.M. our pilot came on board with 4 of our men +that had left us when the Cap'n turned Edward Sampford ashore. At 2 P.M. +the Cap'n ordered our gunner to deliver arms to them that had none. +25 hands fitted themselves. Great firing at our buoy, supposing him a +Spaniard. I hope to God their courage may be as good, if ever they meet +with any. + +_Saturday, 20th._ At 10 A.M. there came in the Squirrel man of war, +Cap'n Warren[D] Com'r, from Jamaica, who informed us that Admiral Vernon +had taken all the forts at Carthagena except one, and the town.[E] We +saluted him with 3 guns, having no more loaded. He returned us one, and +we gave three cheers, which were returned by the ship. He further told +the Captain, that, if he would come up to York, he would put him on a +route which would be of service to his voyage. + +[Footnote D: Captain, afterward Sir Peter Warren, was a distinguished +naval officer in his day. In 1745 he was made Rear-Admiral for his +services at the siege of Louisbourg. He married in New York.] + +[Footnote E: The report of the taking of Cartagena was false, and the +colonists were greatly disappointed at the failure of Vernon's great +enterprise.] + +_Tuesday, 23d._ Wrote a letter, by the Captain's order, to get Davison +to go as mate with us. Our Captain went to York to carry it to Capt. +Potter. At 3 P.M. came in a sloop from Jamaica, in a 20 days passage, +from which we learn that Admiral Vernon's fleet was fitting out for +Cuba.[F] I wish them more success than what they got against Carthagena; +for by all report they got more blows than honour. At 4 P.M. the Captain +returned and brought a hand with him, John Watson, Clerk of a Dutch +church. + +[Footnote F: Five hundred additional men were sent from Massachusetts +to take part in this new expedition. It was a total failure, like the +preceding one, and Few of the colonial troops lived to return home.] + +_Wednesday, 24th._ About 10 A.M. the pilot came on board with a message +from Capt Freebody, who was returned from Long Island, to agree with a +Doctor who had offered to go with us. At 1 P.M. came in a sloop from +Jamaica, a prize of Capt Warren, which had formerly been taken by the +Spaniards. She belonged to Providence, and had been retaken by the +Squirrel. At 6 P.M. Mr. Stone & the Doctor came on board to see the +Captain, but, he being at York, they went there to see him. + +_Thursday, 25th._ Nothing remarkable the fore part of the day, but +quarreling not worth mentioning. At 1 P.M. a sloop came in from Jamaica, +and brought for news that they had spoken an English man of war at Port +Marant, by which they had been informed that a fresh war was daily +expected; also that the Bay was entirely cut off by the Spaniards. No +Doctor as yet, for he that the Captain went to agree with was a drunkard +and an extortioner, so we are better without him than with him. + +_Friday, 26th._ The most remarkablest day this great while. All has +been peace & quietness. Three ships came down the Narrows, one bound to +London, another bound to Newfoundland, & the third to Ireland. + +_Saturday, 27th._ This morning, about 10, the Cap't went to York to take +his leave of Cap't Freebody, who was going to Rhode Island. At 2 P.M. +he came on board & brought with him 2 bb's of pork. At 3 came in a +privateer from Bermudas, Capt Love Com'r, who came here for provisions +for himself & his consort, who waited for him there. This day we heard +that the two country sloops were expected in by Wednesday next. Lord +send it, for we only wait for them in hopes of getting a Doctor & some +more hands to make up our complement. + +_Friday, July 3d._ At 5 A.M. we saw three hands who had left us the day +before on board the Humming Bird privateer, who had been enticed by some +of the owners to leave us by making of them drunk. About 10 we saw their +canoe going ashore with our hands in her, also Joseph Ferrow, whom we +had brought from Rhode Island, and since given him clothes, but who +had entered on board that sloop as boatswain. As soon as they had done +watering, and were returning to the ship, we manned our pinnace, and, +having boarded their canoe, took our three hands out of her, and brought +them and Joseph Ferrow aboard. Some time after, the Humming Bird's canoe +coming alongside, Ferrow jumpt into it, and they put off. Our pinnace +being hauled up in the tackles, we immediately let her down, but +unfortunately the plug was out, and the hands which had jumped into her +being raw, she almost filled with water, which caused such confusion +that the canoe got on board before we got off. Our hands then went to +demand Ferrow, but the privateersmen got out their arms and would not +suffer us to board them. At 4 P.M. the Cap' of the little Privateer came +on board of us to know the reason of the disturbance between his people +and ours. Our Captain told him the reason, and forbid him to carry that +fellow away, for, if he did, he might chance to hear of him in the West +Indies, &, if he did, he would go 100 leagues to meet him, and take ten +for one, and break up his voyage, & send him home to his owners, and +give his people a good dressing. (I don't doubt but he'll be as good as +his word.) Opened a bbl of bread. Thunder and lightning with a great +deal of rain. + +_Saturday, 4th._ This morning, about 5 A.M., came in a ship from +Marblehead bound to S'o Carolina. She had lost her main mast, mizzen +mast, & fore topmast. In Latitude 35 she met with a hard gale of wind +which caused the disaster, and obliged her to put in to New York to +refit. About 11 o'clock the Humming Bird weighed anchor for Philadelphia +to get hands. At 4 P.M. the Lieu't and 2 sergeants belonging to Capt +Rigg's Company came on board to look for some soldiers who were supposed +to be on board the Humming Bird, which was lying off Coney Island, but, +the wind and tide proving contrary, they were obliged to return. At 6 +came in a ship from Lisbon, having made the passage in 6 weeks; also a +sloop from Turks Island: both loaded with salt. The ship appearing to be +a lofty vessel, our people were panic struck with fear, taking her for a +70 gun ship, and, as we had several deserters from the men at war, they +desired the Cap't to hoist the Jack and lower our pennant as a signal +for our pinnace, which was then ashore, so that, if she proved to be a +man of war, they might get ashore, and clear of the press. But it proved +quite the contrary; for the ship & sloop's crew, taking us, by the +signal we had made for our pinnace, for a tender of a man of war, laying +there to press hands, quitted their vessels and ran ashore, as soon as +they saw our pinnace manned, and made for the bushes. At night the Cap' +gave the people a pail of punch to recover them of their fright. Thunder +& lightning all this day. + +_Sunday, 5th._ At 5 A.M. shipped a hand. Our mate went ashore to get +water. About 8 he returned, and informed us that the two country sloops +lay at the Hook, and only waited for a pilot to bring them up, which +I hope will prove true. We are all tired of staying here. At 2 P.M. +weighed anchor and got nearer in shore, out of the current. Rainy, +squally, windy weather. Here lie a brig bound to Newfoundland, a ship to +Jamaica, and a sloop which at 6 P.M. weighed anchor, bound to Barbadoes, +loaded with lumber and horses. This day being a month since we left our +commission port, I have set down what quantity of provisions has been +expended, viz., 9-1/2 bb's of beef, 1 bb of pork, 14 bb of Bread. +Remaining, 49-1/2 bb's of beef, 29 bb's of pork, 40 cwt of bread. + +_Monday, 6th._ About 6 A.M. came in the two Country sloops so long +waited for. They were fitted out to take a Spanish privateer that +has been cruising on the coast, and has taken several of our English +vessels. A ship from Newfoundland also came up, and also the Humming +bird privateer, which had been to meet them to get hands. Cap't Langden, +Com'r of one of the above sloops, as he came alongside, gave us three +cheers, which we returned. The Cap't went up to York to get a Doctor and +some hands. One promised to give him an answer the next day. At 10 a +hand came on board to list, but went away without signing. + +_Tuesday, 6th._ This morning the Captain went up to York, and at last +agreed with a Doctor who had been in the employ of Capt Cunningham, +Com'r of one of the Privateer Sloops that came in the day before. His +name is William Blake. He is a young gentleman, and well recommended by +the Gen'l of York. At 6 P.M. the Captain returned on board, and brought +with him a chest of medicines, a Doctor's box which cost 90L York +currency; also 10 pistols and cutlasses. + +_Tuesday, 14th._ Weighed about 2 P.M., from the Hook with the wind at +W.S.W, with a fresh gale, & by God's leave and under his protection, +bound on our cruise against the proud Dons, the Spaniards. The Captain +ordered the people a pail of punch to drink to a good voyage. Opened a +bb of beef & a tierce of bread. The people were put on allowance for the +time, one pound of beef per man & 7 pounds of bread, per week. + +_Wednesday, 15th._ At 3 P.M. set our shrouds up. There was a great, +swelling sea. About 5 A.M. saw a sail under our bow, about a league +distant. All hands were called upon deck, and got ready to receive her, +should she prove an enemy. We fired one of our bow chasers & brought her +to, and found that she was a sloop from Nantucket, Russell Master. He +said he had met nothing since he had been out, which was 4 days. Our +people returned to their _statu quo_, being all peaceable since they +have got a Quartermaster to control them. + +_Tuesday, 28th._ About 5 A.M. spied a sail under our lee bow, bore +down on her, and when in gunshot fired one of our bow chasers. She +immediately lowered all her sails, & went astern of us. We then ordered +the master to send his boat aboard, which he did, and came himself with +one hand. Upon examination, we found that she was a sloop belonging to +some of the subjects of his Brittanick majesty, & was taken by a +Spanish privateer. The sloop had been taken off of Obricock,[G] near N. +Carolina, and when taken by us was in Latitude 31 deg. 59' N., Longitude 73 deg. +6' W. The master, when he came aboard, brought three Spanish papers, +which he declared to be, the first, a copy of his commission; the +second, Instructions what signal to make when arrived at S't Augustine, +where she was to be condemned; and the third paper was to let him know +what route he was to steer. We sent our Lieu't aboard, who reported that +she was loaded with Pork, Beans, Live Hogs, &c., and a horse, & had on +board 2 Englishmen; the Master, who is a Frenchman born, but turned +Spaniard; 3 Spaniard slaves, & one negro. Upon examination, John +Evergin, one of the owners, declared that he had been taken some time in +April last by Don Pedro Estrado, Cap't of the privateer that had taken +this sloop, & that he forced him to list with them, and to pilot their +vessel on the coast of N. Carolina, and that then they took this sloop +at Obricock, on July 5'th; also 2 more sloops and a ship loaded with +lumber & bound to S'o Carolina; that the Cap't of the privateer put him +on board with the French master, and another Englishman, Saml Elderidge, +to navigate the vessel to Augustine, and that they were making the best +of their way to that place. We sent our Master on board to fetch all +the papers & bring the prisoners as above mentioned. At 11 A.M. sent +Jeremiah Harman & John Webb with four hands to take care of the prize, +the first to be master & the other mate. The Captain gave the master & +mate the following orders, viz.,-- + +[Footnote G: Perhaps a misspelling of Occacoke, an island on the coast +of North Carolina.] + +On Board the Revenge, + +_July 28th, 1741._ + +You, Jeremiah Harman, being appointed Master, & you, John Webb, mate, of +a sloop taken by a Spanish privateer some time ago, belonging to some of +the subjects of his Brittanick Majesty, and retaken by me by virtue of +a commission granted to me by the Hon'ble Ritchard Ward, Esq., Gov'r in +chief over Rhode Island & Providence plantations, &c., in New England, +I order, that you keep company with my sloop, the Revenge, as long as +weather will permit, & if by the Providence of God, by stormy weather, +or some unforeseen accident, we should part, I then order you to proceed +directly to the island of Providence, one of the Bahamia islands, and +there to wait my arrival, and not to embezzle, diminish, waste, sell, or +unload any part of her cargo till I am there present, under the penalty +of the articles already signed by you. Upon your arrival at Providence, +make a just report to his Hon'r the Gov'r of that place of the sloop & +cargo, & what is on board, & how we came by her. I am y'rs, + +B. NORTON. To Jeremiah Harman, Mas'r & John Webb, mate. + +For signal, hoist your Dutch jack at mast head; if we hoist first, you +answer us, & do not keep it up long. + +_Wednesday, 29th._ About 4 P.M. saw a sloop. Gave chase, but, the +weather being calm, was forced to get out our oars. Fired our bow chase +to bring her to; but as the people were in confusion, the ship tacking +about, and the night coming on very foggy, we were unable to speak to +her. By her course she was bound to the North'd. Lost sight of our +prize. The two Englishmen, who were taken prisoners by the Spanish +privateer, signed our articles to-day. + +_Saturday, Aug 1st._ The prize still alongside of us. Ordered the Master +to send us the negro prisoner, having been informed that he was Cap't of +a Comp'y of Indians, mulattoes, and negroes, that was at the retaking of +the Fort at St Augustine, which had formerly been taken while under the +command of that worthiest G--O--pe,[H] who by his treachery suffered +so many brave fellows to be mangled by those barbarians. The negro went +under the name of Signior Capitano Francisco. Sent one of the mulattoes +in his room on board the prize. Gave the people a pail of punch. + +[Footnote H: General Oglethorpe, who was at this time the victim of +unfavorable reports and calumnious stories, that had been spread by +disaffected members of the infant settlements in Georgia, and by some +of the officers who had served under him in his unsuccessful attempt +to reduce the town of Saint Augustine in Florida, "The fort at Saint +Augustine," to which the writer of this Journal refers, as having been +taken while under the command of Oglethorpe, was Fort Moosa, three miles +from Saint Augustine, where a detachment of one hundred and thirty-seven +men, under Colonel Palmer of Carolina, had been attacked by a vastly +superior force of Spaniards, negroes, and Indians, and had been cut +off almost to a man. This misfortune seems to have been due to Colonel +Palmer's disregard of Oglethorpe's orders, and Oglethorpe himself was +in no way responsible for it, although the popular blame fell on his +shoulders.] + +_Sunday, 2nd._ At 1 P.M. we examined the negro, who frankly owned that +he was Cap't of a Comp'y as aforesaid, & that his commission was on +board the privateer; that he was in the privateer in hopes of getting to +the Havanah, & that there he might get a passage to Old Spain to get the +reward of his brave actions. We then askt him if it was his comp'y that +had used the English so barbarously, when taken at the fort. He denied +that it was his compy, but laid that cruel action to the Florida +Indians, and nothing more could we get out of him. We then tied him to a +gun & made the Doctor come with instruments, seemingly to treat him as +they had served the English [prisoners], thinking by that means to get +some confession out of him; but he still denied it. We then tried a +mulatto, one that was taken with him, to find out if he knew anything +about the matter. We gave him a dozen of stripes, but he declared that +he knew nothing more than that he [the negro] had been Cap't of a Comp'y +all that time. The other fellow on board the sloop, he said, knew all +about it. We sent to him, & he declared the whole truth, that it was +the Florida Indians who had committed the acts under his [the negro's] +command, but did not know if he was consenting to it. However, to make +sure, & to make him remember that he bore such a commission, we gave him +200 lashes, & having pickled him, left him to the care of the Doctor. +Opened a tierce of bread and killed the 2 hogs. + +_Monday, 3d._ Small breeze of wind. About 10 saw a schooner standing to +N'ward. Gave her chase. + +_Tuesday, 4th._ A fine breeze of wind. Still in chase of the schooner. +At 5 P.M. gave her a gun, in hopes to bring her to and find out what she +was; but she did not mind it, neither hoisted any colors. Then she bore +down on us, tacked and bore away. We fired 10 shot, but all did not +signify, for she hugged her wind, & it growing dark, and having a good +pair of heels, she was soon lost sight of. We imagined she was an +eastward schooner both by her build & course; but let her be what she +will, she had a brave fellow for a Comr. + +_Wednesday, 5th._ Fine breeze of wind. The man at the mast head about 2 +P.M. spied 5 sail of vessels steering to the westward. Gave them chase +till 1 A.M. About 2 we could see them at a great distance to leeward +of us. Lay to till 4, and then began the chase again, they having got +almost out of sight. + +_Thursday, 6th._ Still in chase of the 5 vessels. Set our spritsail, +topsail & squaresail, with a fair breeze of wind. One of the ships +brought to and fired a gun to wait for a sloop that was in Comp' with +her, & to wait for us. We took in all our small sails, bore down on her, +& hoisted our pennant. When alongside of her she fired 6 shot at us, but +did us no damage. We still hedged upon her, and, having given her our +broadside, stood off. The sloop tacked immediately and bore down on us, +in hopes to get us between them to pepper us, as we supposed. At sight +of this, we gave them three cheers. Our people were all agreed to fight +them, & told the Captain, if he would venture his sloop, they would +venture their lives; but he seemed unwilling, and gave for reason, that +the prize would be of little profit, if taken, and perhaps would +not make good a limb, if it was lost. He also said we had not hands +sufficient to man them, and to bring them into Providence, & to carry +them to the N'ward would be the breaking up of the voyage without +profit. Nevertheless we let the sloop come alongside us, & received her +shot. In return we gave her a broadside & a volley of small arms with +three huzzas, and then bore down on the ship, which all this time had +been pelting us with her shot, but to no purpose. As we passed, we gave +her a broadside which did some damage, for she bore down to the sloop, +and never fired another shot, but careened her over and let some men +down the side to stop her holes, & sent some to repair the rigging and +sails, which were full of shot holes. All the damage we got was one shot +through our main-sail. The ship mounted 6 guns of a side, and the sloop +eight. She was a Spanish privateer, bound on a cruize to the N'ward, & +had taken 5 ships & the sloop which we had retaken some time before. It +grieved us to think that the fellow should go off with those prizes, +which he would not have done, had the Captain been as willing to fight +as we. This battle took place in the Latitude 29 deg. 26', Long. 74 deg. 30' W. +But no blood was shed on our side. + + + + +THE ADVANTAGES OF DEFEAT. + + +When the news flashed over the country, on Monday, the 22d of July, that +our army, whose advance into Virginia had been so long expected, and had +been watched with such intense interest and satisfaction,--that our army +had been defeated, and was flying back in disorder to the intrenchments +around Washington, it was but natural that the strong revulsion of +feeling and the bitter disappointment should have been accompanied by a +sense of dismay, and by alarm as to what was to follow. The panic which +had disgraced some of our troops at the close of the fight found its +parallel in the panic in our own hearts. But as the smoke of the battle +and the dust of the retreat, which overshadowed the land in a cloud of +lies and exaggerations, by degrees cleared away, men regained the even +balance of their minds, and felt a not unworthy shame at their transient +fears. + +It is now plain that our defeat at Bull Run was in no true sense a +disaster; that we not only deserved it, but needed it; that its ultimate +consequences are better than those of a victory would have been. Far +from being disheartened by it, it should give us new confidence in our +cause, in our strength, in our final success. There are lessons which +every great nation must learn which are cheap at any cost, and for some +of those lessons the defeat of the 21st of July was a very small price +to pay. The essential question now is, Whether this schooling has been +sufficient and effectual, or whether we require still further hard +discipline to enforce its instructions upon us. + +In this moment of pause and compelled reflection, it is for us to +examine closely the spirit and motives with which we have engaged in +war, and to determine the true end for which the war must be carried on. +It is no time for indulging in fallacies of the fancy or in feebleness +of counsel. The temper of the Northern people, since the war was forced +upon them, has been in large measure noble and magnanimous. The sudden +interruption of peace, the prospect of a decline of long continued +prosperity, were at once and manfully faced. An eager and emulous zeal +in the defence of the imperilled liberties and institutions of the +nation showed itself all over the land, and in every condition of life. +None who lived through the months of April and May can ever forget the +heroic and ideal sublimity of the time. But as the weeks went on, as +the immediate alarm that had roused the invincible might of the people +passed away, something of the spirit of over-confidence, of excited +hope, of satisfied vanity mingled with and corrupted the earlier and +purer emotion. The war was to be a short one. Our enemies would speedily +yield before the overwhelming force arrayed against them; they would run +from Northern troops; we were sure of easy victory. There was little +sober foreboding, as our army set out from Washington on its great +advance. The troops moved forward with exultation, as if going on a +holiday and festive campaign; and the nation that watched them shared +in their careless confidence, and prophesied a speedy triumph. But the +event showed how far such a spirit was from that befitting a civil +war like this. Never were men engaged in a cause which demanded more +seriousness of purpose, more modesty and humility of pretension. + +The duty before us is honorable in proportion to its difficulty. God has +given us work to do not only for ourselves, but for coming generations +of men. He has imposed on us a task which, if well performed, will +require our most strenuous endeavors and our most patient and +unremitting exertions. We are fairly engaged in a war which cannot be +a short one, even though our enemies should before long lay down their +arms; for it is a war not merely to support and defend the Constitution +and to retake the property of the United States, not merely to settle +the question of the right of a majority to control an insolent and +rebellious minority in the republic, nor to establish the fact of the +national existence and historic unity of the United States; but it is +also and more essentially a war for the establishment of civilization in +that immense portion of our country in which for many years barbarism +has been gaining power. It is for the establishment of liberty and +justice, of freedom of conscience and liberty of thought, of equal law +and of personal rights, throughout the South. If these are not to be +secured without the abolition of slavery, it is a war for the abolition +of slavery. We are not making war to reestablish an old order of things, +but to set up a new one. We are not giving ourselves and our fortunes +for the purpose of fighting a few battles, and then making peace, +restoring the Southern States to their old place in the Union,--but for +the sake of destroying the root from which this war has sprung, and of +making another such war impossible. It is not worth while to do only +half or a quarter of our work. But if we do it thoroughly, as we ought, +the war must be a long one, and will require from us long sacrifices. It +is well to face up to the fact at once, that this generation is to be +compelled to frugality, and that luxurious expenses upon trifles and +superfluities must be changed for the large and liberal costliness of a +noble cause. We are not to expect or hope for a speedy return of what is +called prosperity; but we are greatly and abundantly prosperous, if we +succeed in extending and establishing the principles which alone can +give dignity and value to national or individual life, and without +which, material abundance, success in trade, and increase of wealth are +evidences rather of the decline than of the progress of a state. We, who +have so long been eager in the pursuit and accumulation of riches, are +now to show more generous energies in the free spending of our means +to gain the invaluable objects for which we have gone to war. There is +nothing disheartening in this prospect. Our people, accustomed as they +have been during late years to the most lavish use of money, and to +general extravagance in expense, have not yet lost the tradition of the +economies and thrift of earlier times, and will not find it difficult +to put them once more into practice. The burden will not fall upon any +class; and when each man, whatever be his station in life, is called +upon to lower his scale of living, no one person will find it too hard +to do what all others are doing. + +But if such be the objects and the prospects of the war, it is plain +that they require more sober thought and more careful forecasting and +more thorough preparation than have thus far been given to them. If we +be the generation chosen to accomplish the work that lies ready to +our hands, if we be commissioned to so glorious and so weighty an +enterprise, there is but one spirit befitting our task. The war, if it +is to be successful, must be a religious war: not in the old sense of +that phrase, not a war of violent excitement and passionate enthusiasm, +not a war in which the crimes of cruel bigots are laid to the charge of +divine impulse, bur a war by itself, waged with dignified and solemn +strength, with clean hands and pure hearts,--a war calm and inevitable +in its processes as the judgments of God. When Cromwell's men went out +to win the victory at Winceby Fight, their watchword was "_Religion_." +Can we in our great struggle for liberty and right adopt any other +watchword than this? Do we require another defeat and more suffering to +bring us to a sense of our responsibility to God for the conduct and the +issue of this war? + +It is only by taking the highest ground, by raising ourselves to the +full conception of what is involved in this contest, that we shall +secure success, and prevent ourselves from sinking to the level of those +who are fighting against us. The demoralization necessarily attendant +upon all wars is to be met and overcome only by simple and manly +religious conviction and effort. It will be one of the advantages +of defeat to have made it evident that a regiment of bullies and +prize-fighters is not the best stuff to compose an army. "Your men are +not vindictive enough," Mr. Russell is reported to have said, as he +watched the battle. It was the saying of a shrewd observer, but it +expresses only an imperfect apprehension of the truth. Vindictiveness is +not the spirit our men should have, but a resoluteness of determination, +as much more to be relied upon than a vindictive passion as it is +founded upon more stable and more enduring qualities of character. +The worst characters of our great cities may be the fit equals of +Mississippi or Arkansas ruffians, but the mass of our army is not to be +brought down to the standard of rowdies or the level of barbarians. The +men of New England and of the West do not march under banners with +the device of "Booty and Beauty," though General Beauregard has the +effrontery to declare it, and Bishop, now General, Polk the ignorance +to utter similar slanders. The atrocities committed on our wounded and +prisoners by the "chivalry" of the South may excite not only horror, but +a wild fury of revenge. But our cause should not be stained with cruelty +and crime, even in the name of vengeance. If the war is simply one in +which brute force is to prevail, if we are fighting only for lust and +pride and domination, then let us have our "Ellsworth Avengers," and +let us slay the wounded of our enemy without mercy; let us burn their +hospitals, let us justify their, as yet, false charges against us; let +us admit the truth of the words of the Bishop of Louisiana, that the +North is prosecuting this war "with circumstances of barbarity which it +was fondly believed would never more disgrace the annals of a civilized +people." But if we, if our brothers in the army, are to lose the proud +distinctions of the North, and to be brought down to the level of +the tender mercies and the humane counsels of slaveholders and +slave-drivers, there would be little use in fighting. If our +institutions at the North do not produce better, more humane, and more +courageous men than those of the South, when taken in the mass, there is +no reason for the sacrifice of blood and treasure in their support. War +must be always cruel; it is not to be waged on principles of tenderness; +but a just, a religious war can be waged only mercifully, with no +excess, with no circumstance of avoidable suffering. Our enemies are our +outward consciences, and their reproaches may warn us of our dangers. + +The soldiers of the Northern army generally are men capable of +understanding the force of moral considerations. They are intelligent, +independent, vigorous,--as good material as an army ever was formed +from. A large proportion of them have gone to the war from the best +motives, and with clear appreciation of the nature and grounds of the +contest. But they require to be confirmed in their principles, and to +be strengthened against the temptations of life in the camp and in the +field, by the voice and support of the communities from which they +have come. If the country is careless or indifferent as to their moral +standard, they will inevitably become so themselves, and lose the +perception of the objects for which they are fighting, forgetting their +responsibilities, not only as soldiers, but as good men. It is one of +the advantages of defeat to force the thoughts which camp-life may have +rendered unfamiliar back into the soldier's mind. The boastfulness of +the advance is gone,--and there is chance for sober reflection. + +It is especially necessary for our men, unaccustomed to the profession +of arms, and entering at once untried upon this great war, to take a +just and high view of their new calling: to look at it with the eyes, +not of mercenaries, but of men called into their country's service; to +regard it as a life which is not less, but more difficult than any other +to be discharged with honor. "Our profession," said Washington, "is the +chastest of all; even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of our +finest achievements." Our soldiers in Virginia, and in the other Slave +States, have not only their own reputation to support, but also that +of the communities from which they come. There must be a rivalry in +generous efforts among the troops of different States. Shall we not now +have our regiments which by their brave and honorable conduct shall win +appellations not less noble than that of the _Auvergne sans tache_, +"Auvergne without a stain"? If the praise that Mr. Lincoln bestowed upon +our men in his late Message to Congress be not undeserved, they are +bound to show qualities such as no other common soldiers have ever +been called to exhibit. There are among them more men of character, +intelligence, and principle than were ever seen before in the ranks. +There should be a higher tone in our service than in that of any other +people; and it would be a reproach to our institutions, if our soldiers +did not show themselves not only steady and brave in action, +undaunted in spirit, unwearied in energy, but patient of discipline, +self-controlled, and forbearing. The disgrace to our arms of the defeat +at Bull Run was not so great as that of the riotous drunkenness and +disorderly conduct of our men during the two or three days that +succeeded at Washington. If our men are to be the worthy soldiers of so +magnificent a cause as that in which they are engaged, they must raise +themselves to its height. Battles may be won by mere human machines, by +men serving for eleven dollars a month; but a victory such as we have to +gain can be won only by men who know for what and why they are +fighting, and who are conscious of the dignity given to them and the +responsibility imposed upon them by the sacredness of their cause. The +old flag, the stars and stripes, must not only be the symbol in their +eyes of past glories and of the country's honor, but its stars must +shine before them with the light of liberty, and its stripes must be the +emblem of the even and enduring lines of equal justice. + +The retreat from Bull Run and the panic that accompanied it were not +due to cowardice among our men. During long hours our troops had fought +well, and showed their gallantry under the most trying circumstances. +They were not afraid to die. It was not strange that raw volunteers, as +many of them were, inefficiently supported, and poorly led, should at +length give way before superior force, and yield to the weakness induced +by exhaustion and hunger. But the lesson of defeat would be imperfectly +learned, did not the army and the nation alike gain from it a juster +sense than they before possessed of the value of individual life. +Never has life been so much prized and so precious as it has become in +America. Never before has each individual been of so much worth. It +costs more to bring up a man here, and he is worth more when brought up, +than elsewhere. The long peace and the extraordinary amount of comfort +which the nation has enjoyed have made us (speaking broadly) fond of +life and tender of it. We of the North have looked with astonishment at +the recklessness of the South concerning it. We have thought it braver +to save than to spend it; and a questionable humanity has undoubtedly +led us sometimes into feeble sentimentalities, and false estimates of +its value. We have been in danger of thinking too much of it, and of +being mean-spirited in its use. But the first sacrifice for which war +calls is life; and we must revise our estimates of its value, if we +would conduct our war to a happy end. To gain that end, no sacrifice can +be too precious or too costly. The shudder with which we heard the first +report that three thousand of our men were slain was but the sign of the +blow that our hearts received. But there must be no shrinking from the +prospect of the death of our soldiers. Better than that we should fail +that a million men should die on the battle-field. It is not often that +men can have the privilege to offer their lives for a principle; and +when the opportunity comes, it is only the coward that does not welcome +it with gladness. Life is of no value in comparison with the spiritual +principles from which it gains its worth. No matter how many lives it +costs to defend or secure truth or justice or liberty, truth and justice +and liberty must be defended and secured. Self-preservation must yield +to Truth's preservation. The little human life is for to-day,--the +principle is eternal. To die for truth, to die open-eyed and resolutely +for the "good old cause," is not only honor, but reward. "Suffering is +a gift not given to every one," said one of the Scotch martyrs in 1684, +"and I desire to bless the Lord with my whole heart and soul that He has +counted such a poor thing as I am worthy of the gift of suffering." + +The little value of the individual in comparison with the principles +upon which the progress and happiness of the race depend is a lesson +enforced by the analogies of Nature, as well as by the evidence of +history and the assurance of faith. Nature is careless of the single +life. Her processes seem wasteful, but out of seeming waste she produces +her great and durable results. Everywhere in her works are the signs of +life cut short for the sake of some effect more permanent than itself. +And for the establishing of those immortal foundations upon which the +human race is to stand firm in virtue and in hope, for the building of +the walls of truth, there will be no scanty expenditure of individual +life. Men are nothing in the count,--man is everything. + +The spirit of the nation will be shown in its readiness to meet without +shrinking such sacrifice of life as may be demanded in gaining our end. +We must all suffer and rejoice together,--but let there be no unmanly or +unwomanly fear of bloodshed. The deaths of our men from sickness, from +camp epidemics, are what we should fear and prevent; death on the +battle-field we have no right to dread. The men who die in this cause +die well; they could wish for no more honorable end of life. + +The honor lost in our recent defeat cannot be regained,--but it is +indeed one of the advantages of defeat to teach men the preciousness of +honor, the necessity of winning and keeping it at any cost. Honor and +duty are but two names for the same thing in war. But the novelty of war +is so great to us, we are so unpractised in it, and we have thought so +little of it heretofore as concerning ourselves, that there is danger +lest we fail at first to appreciate its finer elements, and neglect the +opportunities it affords for the practice of virtues rarely called out +in civil life. The common boast of the South, that there alone was to be +found the chivalry of America, and that among the Southern people was +a higher strain of courage and a keener sense of honor than among the +people of the North, is now to be brought to the test. There is not +need to repeat the commonplaces about bravery and honor. But we and our +soldiers should remember that it is not the mere performance of set work +that is required of them, but the valiant and generous alacrity of noble +minds in deeds of daring and of courtesy. Though the science of war +has in modern times changed the relations and the duties of men on the +battle-field from what they were in the old days of knighthood, yet +there is still room for the display of stainless valor and of manful +virtue. Honor and courage are part of our religion; and the coward or +the man careless of honor in our army of liberty should fall under +heavier shame than ever rested on the disgraced soldier in former times. +The sense of honor is finer than the common sense of the world. It +counts no cost and reckons no sacrifice great. "Then the king wept, and +dried his eyes, and said, 'Your courage had neere hand destroyed you, +for I call it folly knights to abide when they be overmatched.' +'Nay,' said Sir Lancelot and the other, 'for once shamed may never be +recovered.'" The examples of Bayard,--_sans peur et sans reproche_,--of +Sidney, of the heroes of old or recent days, are for our imitation. We +are bound to be no less worthy of praise and remembrance than they. They +did nothing too high for us to imitate. And in their glorious company +we may hope that some of our names may yet be enrolled, to stand as +the inspiring exemplars and the models for coming times. If defeat has +brought us shame, it has brought us also firmer resolve. No man can be +said to know himself, or to have assurance of his force of principle and +character, till he has been tested by the fires of trial in the crucible +of defeat. The same is true of a nation. The test of defeat is the test +of its national worth. Defeat shows whether it deserves success. We may +well be grateful and glad for our defeat of the 21st of July, if we +wrest from it the secrets of our weakness, and are thrown back by it to +the true sources of strength. If it has done its work thoroughly, if we +profit sufficiently by the advantages it has afforded us, we may be well +content that so slight a harm has brought us so great a good. But if +not, then let us be ready for another and another defeat, till our souls +shall be tempered and our forces disciplined for the worthy attainment +of victory. For victory we shall in good time have. There is no need to +fear or be doubtful of the issue. As soon as we deserve it, victory will +be ours; and were we to win it before, it would be but an empty +and barren triumph. All history is but the prophecy of our final +success,--and Milton has put the prophecy into words: "Go on, O Nation, +never to be disunited! Be the praise and the heroic song of all +posterity! Merit this, but seek only virtue, not to extend your limits, +(for what needs to win a fading triumphant laurel out of the tears of +wretched men?) but to settle the pure worship of God in his church, and +justice in the state. Then shall the hardest difficulties smooth out +themselves before thee; envy shall sink to hell, craft and malice be +confounded, whether it be home-bred mischief or outlandish cunning; yea, +other nations will then covet to serve thee, for lordship and victory +are but the pages of justice and virtue. Use thine invincible might to +do worthy and godlike deeds, and then he that seeks to break your union +a cleaving curse be his inheritance to all generations!" + + * * * * * + + +ODE TO HAPPINESS. + + + I. + + + Spirit, that rarely comest now, + And only to contrast my gloom, + Like rainbow-feathered birds that bloom + A moment on some autumn bough + Which, with the spurn of their farewell, + Sheds its last leaves,--thou once didst dwell + With me year-long, and make intense + To boyhood's wisely-vacant days + That fleet, but all-sufficing grace + Of trustful inexperience, + While yet the soul transfigured sense, + And thrilled, as with love's first caress, + At life's mere unexpectedness. + + + II. + + + Those were thy days, blithe spirit, those + When a June sunshine could fill up + The chalice of a buttercup + With such Falernian juice as flows + No longer,--for the vine is dead + Whence that inspiring drop was shed: + Days when my blood would leap and run, + As full of morning as a breeze, + Or spray tossed up by summer seas + That doubts if it be sea or sun; + Days that flew swiftly, like the band + That in the Grecian games had strife + And passed from eager hand to hand + The onward-dancing torch of life. + + + III. + + + Wing-footed! thou abid'st with him + Who asks it not; but he who hath + Watched o'er the waves thy fading path + Shall nevermore on ocean's rim, + At morn or eve, behold returning + Thy high-heaped canvas shoreward yearning! + Thou first reveal'st to us thy face + Turned o'er the shoulder's parting grace, + A moment glimpsed, then seen no more,-- + Thou whose swift footsteps we can trace + Away from every mortal door! + + + IV. + + + Nymph of the unreturning feet, + How may I woo thee back? But no, + I do thee wrong to call thee so; + 'Tis we are changed, not thou art fleet: + The man thy presence feels again + Not in the blood, but in the brain, + Spirit, that lov'st the upper air, + Serene and vaporless and rare, + Such as on mountain-heights we find + And wide-viewed uplands of the mind, + Or such as scorns to coil and sing + Round any but the eagle's wing + Of souls that with long upward beat + Have won an undisturbed retreat, + Where, poised like winged victories, + They mirror in unflinching eyes + The life broad-basking 'neath their feet,-- + Man always with his Now at strife, + Pained with first gasps of earthly air, + Then begging Death the last to spare, + Still fearful of the ampler life. + + + V. + + + Not unto them dost thou consent + Who, passionless, can lead at ease + A life of unalloyed content, + A life like that of landlocked seas, + That feel no elemental gush + Of tidal forces, no fierce rush + Of storm deep-grasping, scarcely spent + 'Twixt continent and continent: + Such quiet souls have never known + Thy truer inspiration, thou + Who lov'st to feel upon thy brow + Spray from the plunging vessel thrown, + Grazing the tusked lee shore, the cliff + That o'er the abrupt gorge holds its breath, + Where the frail hair's-breadth of an If + Is all that sunders life and death: + These, too, are cared for, and round these + Bends her mild crook thy sister Peace; + These in unvexed dependence lie + Each 'neath his space of household sky; + O'er them clouds wander, or the blue + Hangs motionless the whole day through; + Stars rise for them, and moons grow large + And lessen in such tranquil wise + As joys and sorrows do that rise + Within their nature's sheltered marge; + Their hours into each other flit, + Like the leaf-shadows of the vine + And fig-tree under which they sit; + And their still lives to heaven incline + With an unconscious habitude, + Unhistoried as smokes that rise + From happy hearths and sight elude + In kindred blue of morning skies. + + + VI. + + + Wayward! when once we feel thy lack, + 'Tis worse than vain to tempt thee back! + Yet there is one who seems to be + Thine elder sister, in whose eyes + A faint, far northern light will rise + Sometimes and bring a dream of thee: + She is not that for which youth hoped; + But she hath blessings all her own, + Thoughts pure as lilies newly oped, + And faith to sorrow given alone: + Almost I deem that it is thou + Come back with graver matron brow, + With deepened eyes and bated breath, + Like one who somewhere had met Death. + "But no," she answers, "I am she + Whom the gods love, Tranquillity; + That other whom you seek forlorn. + Half-earthly was; but I am born + Of the immortals, and our race + Have still some sadness in our face: + He wins me late, but keeps me long, + Who, dowered with every gift of passion, + In that fierce flame can forge and fashion + Of sin and self the anchor strong; + Can thence compel the driving force + Of daily life's mechanic course, + Nor less the nobler energies + Of needful toil and culture wise: + Whose soul is worth the tempter's lure, + Who can renounce and yet endure, + To him I come, not lightly wooed, + And won by silent fortitude." + + * * * * * + + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + +_Florence_, July 5th, 1861. + + "When some beloved voice that was to you + Both sound and sweetness faileth suddenly, + And silence, against which you dare not cry, + Aches round you like a strong disease and new,-- + What hope? what help? what music will undo + That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh,-- + Not reason's subtle count,--not melody + Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew,-- + Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales, + Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress-trees + To the clear moon,--nor yet the spheric laws + Self-chanted,--nor the angels' sweet All-hails, + Met in the smile of God. Nay, none of these! + Speak THOU, availing Christ, and fill this pause!" + +Thus sang the Muse of a great woman years ago; and now, alas! she, who, +with constant suffering of her own, was called upon to grieve often for +the loss of near and dear ones, has suddenly gone from among us, "and +silence, against which we dare not cry, aches round us like a strong +disease and new." Her own beautiful words are our words, the world's +words,--and though the tears fall faster and thicker, as we search +for all that is left of her in the noble poems which she bequeaths to +humanity, there follows the sad consolation in feeling assured that she +above all others _felt_ the full value of life, the full value of death, +and was prepared to meet her God humbly, yet joyfully, whenever He +should claim her for His own. Her life was one long, large-souled, +large-hearted prayer for the triumph of Right, Justice, Liberty; and she +who lived for others was + + "poet true, + Who died for Beauty, as martyrs do + For Truth,--the ends being scarcely two." + +Beauty _was_ truth with her, the wife, mother, and poet, three in one, +and such an earthly trinity as God had never before blessed the world +with. + +This day week, at half-past four o'clock in the morning, Mrs. Browning +died. A great invalid from girlhood, owing to an unfortunate accident, +Mrs. Browning's life was a prolonged combat with disease thereby +engendered; and had not God given her extraordinary vitality of spirit, +the frail body could never have borne up against the suffering to which +it was doomed. Probably there never was a greater instance of the power +of genius over the weakness of the flesh. Confined to her room in +the country or city home of her father in England, Elizabeth Barrett +developed into the great artist and scholar. + +From her couch went forth those poems which have crowned her as "the +world's greatest poetess"; and on that couch, where she lay almost +speechless at times, and seeing none but those friends dearest and +nearest, the soul-woman struck deep into the roots of Latin and Greek, +and drank of their vital juices. We hold in kindly affection her +learned and blind teacher, Hugh Stuart Boyd, who, she tells us, was +"enthusiastic for the good and the beautiful, and one of the most simple +and upright of human beings." The love of his grateful scholar, when +called upon to mourn the good man's death, embalms his memory among her +Sonnets, where she addresses him as her + + "Beloved friend, who, living many years + With sightless eyes raised vainly to the sun, + Didst learn to keep thy patient soul in tune + To visible Nature's elemental cheers!" + +Nor did this "steadfast friend" forget his poet-pupil ere he went to +"join the dead":-- + + "Three gifts the Dying left me,--Aeschylus, + And Gregory Nazianzen, and a clock + Chiming the gradual hours out like a flock + Of stars, whose motion is melodious." + +We catch a glimpse of those communings over "our Sophocles the royal," +"our Aeschylus the thunderous," "our Euripides the human," and "my Plato +the divine one," in her pretty poem of "Wine of Cyprus," addressed to +Mr. Boyd. The woman translates the remembrance of those early lessons +into her heart's verse:-- + + "And I think of those long mornings + Which my thought goes far to seek, + When, betwixt the folio's turnings, + Solemn flowed the rhythmic Greek. + Past the pane, the mountain spreading, + Swept the sheep-bell's tinkling noise, + While a girlish voice was reading,-- + Somewhat low for [Greek: ais] and [Greek: ois]." + +These "golden hours" were not without that earnest argument so welcome +to candid minds:-- + + "For we sometimes gently wrangled, + Very gently, be it said,-- + Since our thoughts were disentangled + By no breaking of the thread! + And I charged you with extortions + On the nobler fames of old,-- + Ay, and sometimes thought your Persons + Stained the purple they would fold." + +What high honor the scholar did her friend and teacher, and how nobly +she could interpret the "rhythmic Greek," let those decide who have read +Mrs. Browning's translations of "Prometheus Bound" and Bion's "Lament +for Adonis." + +Imprisoned within the four walls of her room, with books for her world +and large humanity for her thought, the lamp of life burning so low at +times that a feather would be placed on her lips to prove that there was +still breath, Elizabeth Barrett read and wrote, and "heard the nations +praising" her "far off." She loved + + "Art for art, + And good for God himself, the essential Good," + +until destiny (a destiny with God in it) brought two poets face to face +and heart to heart. Mind had met mind and recognized its peer previously +to that personal interview which made them one in soul; but it was not +until after an acquaintance of two years that Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning were united in marriage for time and for eternity, a +marriage the like of which can seldom be recorded. What wealth of love +she could give is evidenced in those exquisite sonnets purporting to be +from the Portuguese, the author being too modest to christen them by +their right name, Sonnets from the Heart. None have failed to read the +truth through this slight veil, and to see the woman more than the poet +in such lines as these:-- + + "I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange + My near sweet view of heaven for earth with thee!" + +We have only to turn to the concluding poem in "Men and Women," +inscribed to E.B.B., to see how reciprocal was this great love. + +From their wedding-day Mrs. Browning seemed to be endowed with new life. +Her health visibly improved, and she was enabled to make excursions in +England prior to her departure for the land of her adoption, Italy, +where she found a second and a dearer home. For nearly fifteen years +Florence and the Brownings have been one in the thoughts of many English +and Americans; and Casa Guidi, which has been immortalized by Mrs. +Browning's genius, will be as dear to the Anglo-Saxon traveller as +Milton's Florentine residence has been heretofore. Those who now pass by +Casa Guidi fancy an additional gloom has settled upon the dark face of +the old palace, and grieve to think that those windows from which +a spirit-face witnessed two Italian revolutions, and those large +mysterious rooms where a spirit-hand translated the great Italian Cause +into burning verse, and pleaded the rights of humanity in "Aurora +Leigh," are hereafter to be the passing homes of the thoughtless or the +unsympathizing. + +Those who have known Casa Guidi as it was could hardly enter the loved +rooms now and speak above a whisper. They who have been so favored +can never forget the square anteroom, with its great picture and +piano-forte, at which the boy Browning passed many an hour,--the +little dining-room covered with tapestry, and where hung medallions +of Tennyson, Carlyle, and Robert Browning,--the long room filled with +plaster casts and studies, which was Mr. Browning's retreat,--and, +dearest of all, the large drawing-room, where she always sat. It opens +upon a balcony filled with plants, and looks out upon the old iron-gray +church of Santa Felice. There was something about this room that seemed +to make it a proper and especial haunt for poets. The dark shadows +and subdued light gave it a dreamy look, which was enhanced by the +tapestry-covered walls and the old pictures of saints that looked +out sadly from their carved frames of black wood. Large book-cases, +constructed of specimens of Florentine carving selected by Mr. Browning, +were brimming over with wise-looking books. Tables were covered with +more gayly bound volumes, the gifts of brother authors. Dante's +grave profile, a cast of Keats's face and brow taken after death, a +pen-and-ink sketch of Tennyson, the genial face of John Kenyon, Mrs. +Browning's good friend and relative, little paintings of the boy +Browning, all attracted the eye in turn, and gave rise to a thousand +musings. A quaint mirror, easy-chairs and sofas, and a hundred nothings +that always add an indescribable charm, were all massed in this room. +But the glory of all, and that which sanctified all, was seated in a low +arm-chair near the door. A small table, strewn with writing-materials, +books, and newspapers, was always by her side. + +To those who loved Mrs. Browning (and to know her was to love her) she +was singularly attractive. Hers was not the beauty of feature; it was +the loftier beauty of expression. Her slight figure seemed hardly large +enough to contain the great heart that beat so fervently within, and the +soul that expanded more and more as one year gave place to another. It +was difficult to believe that such a fairy hand could pen thoughts of +such ponderous weight, or that such a "still small voice" could utter +them with equal force. But it was Mrs. Browning's face upon which one +loved to gaze,--that face and head which almost lost themselves in the +thick curls of her dark brown hair. That jealous hair could not hide the +broad, fair forehead, "royal with the truth," as smooth as any girl's, +and + + "Too large for wreath of modern wont." + +Her large brown eyes were beautiful, and were in truth the windows +of her soul. They combined the confidingness of a child with the +poet-passion of heart and of intellect; and in gazing into them it was +easy to read _why_ Mrs. Browning wrote. God's inspiration was her motive +power, and in her eyes was the reflection of this higher light. + + "And her smile it seemed half holy, + As if drawn from thoughts more far + Than our common jestings are." + +Mrs. Browning's character was wellnigh perfect. Patient in long +suffering, she never spoke of herself, except when the subject was +forced upon her by others, and then with no complaint. She _judged not_, +saving when great principles were imperilled, and then was ready to +sacrifice herself upon the altar of Right. Forgiving as she wished to be +forgiven, none approached her with misgivings, knowing her magnanimity. +She was ever ready to accord sympathy to all, taking an earnest interest +in the most insignificant, and so humble in her greatness that her +friends looked upon her as a divinity among women. Thoughtful in the +smallest things for others, she seemed to give little thought to +herself; and believing in universal goodness, her nature was free from +worldly suspicions. The first to see merit, she was the last to censure +faults, and gave the praise that she _felt_ with a generous hand. No one +so heartily rejoiced at the success of others, no one was so modest in +her own triumphs, which she looked upon more as a favor of which she +was unworthy than as a right due to her. She loved all who offered +her affection, and would solace and advise with any. She watched the +progress of the world with tireless eye and beating heart, and, anxious +for the good of the _whole_ world, scorned to take an insular view +of any political question. With her a political question was a moral +question as well. Mrs. Browning belonged to no particular country; the +world was inscribed upon the banner under which she fought. Wrong was +her enemy; against this she wrestled, in whatever part of the globe it +was to be found. + +A noble devotion to and faith in the regeneration of Italy was a +prominent feature in Mrs. Browning's life. To her, Italy was from the +first a living fire, not the bed of dead ashes at which the world was +wont to sneer. Her trust in God and the People was supreme; and when +the Revolution of 1848 kindled the passion of liberty from the Alps to +Sicily, she, in common with many another earnest spirit, believed +that the hour for the fulfilment of her hopes had arrived. Her joyful +enthusiasm at the Tuscan uprising found vent in the "Eureka" which she +sang with so much fervor in Part First of "Casa Guidi Windows." + + "But never say 'No more' + To Italy's life! Her memories undismayed + Still argue 'Evermore'; her graves implore + Her future to be strong and not afraid; + Her very statues send their looks before." + +And even she was ready to believe that a Pope _might_ be a reformer. + + "Feet, knees, and sinews, energies divine, + Were never yet too much for men who ran + In such hard ways as must be this of thine, + Deliverer whom we seek, whoe'er thou art, + Pope, prince, or peasant! If, indeed, the first, + The noblest therefore! since the heroic heart + Within thee must be great enough to burst + Those trammels buckling to the baser part + Thy saintly peers in Rome, who crossed and cursed + With the same finger." + +The Second Part of "Casa Guidi Windows" is a sad sequel to the First, +but Mrs. Browning does not deride. She bows before the inevitable, but +is firm in her belief of a future living Italy. + + "In the name of Italy + Meantime her patriot dead have benison; + They only have done well;--and what they did + Being perfect, it shall triumph. Let them slumber!" + +Her short-lived credence in the good faith of Popes was buried with much +bitterness of heart:-- + + "And peradventure other eyes may see, + From Casa Guidi windows, what is done + Or undone. Whatsoever deeds they be, + Pope Pius will be glorified in none." + +It is a matter of great thankfulness that God permitted Mrs. Browning to +witness the second Italian revolution before claiming her for heaven. No +patriot Italian, of whatever high degree, gave greater sympathy to the +aspirations of 1859 than Mrs. Browning, an echo of which the world has +read in her "Poems before Congress" and still later contributions to the +New York "Independent." Great was the moral courage of this frail woman +to publish the "Poems before Congress" at a time when England was most +suspicious of Napoleon. Greater were her convictions, when she abased +England and exalted France for the cold neutrality of the one and the +generous aid of the other in this war of Italian independence. Bravely +did she bear up against the angry criticism excited by such anti-English +sentiment. Strong in her right, Mrs. Browning was willing to brave the +storm, confident that truth would prevail in the end. Apart from certain +_tours de force_ in rhythm, there is much that is grand and as much that +is beautiful in these Poems, while there is the stamp of _power_ upon +every page. It is felt that a great soul is in earnest about vital +principles, and earnestness of itself is a giant as rare as forcible. +Though there are few now who look upon Napoleon as + + "Larger so much by the heart" + +than others "who have governed and led," there are many who acknowledge +him to be + + "Larger so much by the head," + +and regard him as she did,--Italy's best friend in the hour of need. Her +disciples are increasing, and soon "Napoleon III. in Italy" will be read +with the admiration which it deserves. + +Beautiful in its pathos is the poem of "A Court Lady," and there are few +satires more biting than "An August Voice," which, as an interpretation +of the Napoleonic words, is perfect. Nor did she fail to vindicate the +Peace of Villafranca:-- + + "But He stood sad before the sun + (The peoples felt their fate): + 'The world is many,--I am one; + My great Deed was too great. + God's fruit of justice ripens slow: + Men's souls are narrow; let them grow. + My brothers, we must wait.'" + +And truly, what Napoleon then failed, from opposition, to accomplish by +the sword, has since been, to a great extent, accomplished by diplomacy. + +But though Mrs. Browning wrote her "Tale of Villafranca" in full faith, +after many a mile-stone in time lay between her and the _fact_, her +friends remember how the woman bent and was wellnigh crushed, as by a +thunderbolt, when the intelligence of this Imperial Treaty was first +received. Coming so quickly upon the heels of the victories of Solferino +and San Martino, it is no marvel that what stunned Italy should have +almost killed Mrs. Browning. That it hastened her into the grave is +beyond a doubt, as she never fully shook off the severe attack of +illness occasioned by this check upon her life-hopes. The summer of 1859 +was a weary, suffering season for her in consequence; and although the +following winter, passed in Rome, helped to repair the evil that had +been wrought, a heavy cold, caught at the end of the season, (and +for the sake of seeing Rome's gift of swords to Napoleon and Victor +Emmanuel,) told upon her lungs. The autumn of 1860 brought with it +another sorrow in the death of a beloved sister, and this loss seemed +more than Mrs. Browning could bear; but by breathing the soft air of +Rome again she seemed to revive, and indeed wrote that she was "better +in body and soul." + +Those who have known Mrs. Browning in later years thought she never +looked better than upon her return to Florence in the first days of last +June, although the overland journey had been unusually fatiguing to her. +But the meeting was a sad one; for Cavour had died, and the national +loss was as severe to her as a personal bereavement. Her deep nature +regarded Italy's benefactor in the light of a friend; for had he not +labored unceasingly for that which was the burden of her song? and could +she allow so great a man to pass away without many a heart-ache? It is +as sublime as it is rare to see such intense appreciation of great deeds +as Mrs. Browning could give. Her fears, too, for Italy, when the patriot +pilot was hurried from the helm, gave rise to much anxiety, until +quieted by the assuring words of the new minister, Ricasoli. + +Nor was Mrs. Browning so much engrossed in the Italian regeneration that +she had no thought for other nations and for other wrongs. Her interest +in America was very great,-- + + "For poets, (bear the word!) + Half-poets even, are still whole democrats: + Oh, not that we're disloyal to the high, + But loyal to the low, and cognizant + Of the less scrutable majesties." + +In Mrs. Browning's poem of "A Curse for a Nation," where she foretold +the agony in store for America, and which has fallen upon us with the +swiftness of lightning, she was loath to raise her poet's voice against +us, pleading,-- + + "For I am hound by gratitude, + By love and blood, + To brothers of mine across the sea, + Who stretch out kindly hands to me." + +And in one of her last letters, addressed to an American friend who +had reminded her of her prophecy and of its present fulfilment, she +replied,--"Never say that I have 'cursed' your country. I only _declared +the consequence of the evil_ in her, and which has since developed +itself in thunder and flame. I feel with more pain than many Americans +do the sorrow of this transition-time; but I do know that it _is_ +transition, that it _is_ crisis, and that you will come out of the fire +purified, stainless, having had the angel of a great cause walking with +you in the furnace." Are not such burning, hopeful words from such a +source--worthy of the grateful memory of the Americans? Our cause has +lost an ardent supporter in Mrs. Browning; and did we dare rebel against +God's will, we should grieve deeply that she was not permitted to +glorify the Right in America as she has glorified it in Italy. Among +the last things that she read were Motley's letters on the "American +Crisis," and the writer will ever hold in dear memory the all but +final conversation had with Mrs. Browning, in which these letters were +discussed and warmly approved. In referring to the attitude taken by +foreign nations with regard to America, she said,--"Why do you heed what +others say? You are strong, and can do without sympathy; and when you +have triumphed, your glory will be the greater." Mrs. Browning's most +enthusiastic admirers are Americans; and I am sure, that, now she is no +longer of earth, they will love her the more for her sympathy in the +cause which is nearest to all hearts. + +Mrs. Browning's conversation was most interesting. It was not +characterized by sallies of wit or brilliant repartee, nor was it +of that nature which is most welcome in society. It was frequently +intermingled with trenchant, quaint remarks, leavened with a quiet, +graceful humor of her own; but it was eminently calculated for a +_tete-a-tete_. Mrs. Browning never made an insignificant remark. All +that she said was _always_ worth hearing;--a greater compliment could +not be paid her. She was a most conscientious listener, giving you her +mind and heart, as well as her magnetic eyes. Though the latter spoke an +eager language of their own, she conversed slowly, with a conciseness +and point that, added to a matchless earnestness, which was the +predominant trait of her conversation as it was of her character, made +her a most delightful companion. _Persons_ were never her theme, +unless public characters were under discussion, or friends were to be +praised,--which kind office she frequently took upon herself. One never +dreamed of frivolities in Mrs. Browning's presence, and gossip felt +itself out of place. _Your_self (not _her_self) was always a pleasant +subject to her, calling out all her best sympathies in joy, and yet more +in sorrow. Books and humanity, great deeds, and, above all, politics, +which include all the grand questions of the day, were foremost in her +thoughts, and therefore oftenest on her lips. I speak not of religion, +for with her everything was religion. Her Christianity was not confined +to church and rubric: it meant _civilization_. + +Association with the Brownings, even though of the slightest nature, +made one better in mind and soul. It was impossible to escape the +influence of the magnetic fluid of love and poetry that was constantly +passing between husband and wife. The unaffected devotion of one to the +other wove an additional charm around the two, and the very contrasts +in their natures made the union a more beautiful one. All remember Mrs. +Browning's pretty poem on her "Pet Name":-- + + "I have a name, a little name, + Uncadenced for the ear, + Unhonored by ancestral claim, + Unsanctified by prayer and psalm + The solemn font anear. + + * * * * * + + "My brother gave that name to me, + When we were children twain,-- + When names acquired baptismally + Were hard to utter, as to see + That life had any pain." + +It was this pet name of two small letters lovingly combined that dotted +Mr. Browning's spoken thoughts, as moonbeams fleck the ocean, and seemed +the pearl-bead that linked conversation together in one harmonious +whole. But what was written has now come to pass. The pet name is +engraved only in the hearts of a few. + + "Though I write books, it will be read + Upon the leaves of none; + And afterward, when I am dead, + Will ne'er be graved, for sight or tread, + Across my funeral stone." + +Mrs. Browning's letters are masterpieces of their kind. Easy and +conversational, they touch upon no subject without leaving an indelible +impression of the writer's originality; and the myriad matters of +universal interest with which many of them are teeming will render them +a precious legacy to the world, when the time shall have arrived for +their publication. Of late, Italy has claimed the lion's share in these +unrhymed sketches of Mrs. Browning in the _negligee_ of home. Prose has +recorded all that poetry threw aside; and thus much political thought, +many an anecdote, many a reflection, and much womanly enthusiasm have +been stored up for the benefit of more than the persons to whom these +letters were addressed. And while we wait patiently for this great +pleasure, which must sooner or later be enjoyed and appreciated, we may +gather a foretaste of Mrs. Browning's power in prose-writing from her +early essays, and from the admirable preface to the "Poems before +Congress." The latter is simple in its style, and grand in teachings +that find few followers among _nations_ in these _enlightened_ days. + +Some are prone to moralize over precious stones, and see in them the +petrified souls of men and women. There is no stone so sympathetic as +the opal, which one might fancy to be a concentration of Mrs. Browning's +genius. It is essentially the _woman-stone_, giving out a sympathetic +warmth, varying its colors from day to day, as though an index of the +heart's barometer. There is the topmost purity of white, blended with +the delicate, perpetual verdure of hope, and down in the opal's centre +lies the deep crimson of love. The red, the white, and the green, +forming as they do the colors of Italy, render the opal doubly like Mrs. +Browning. It is right that the woman-stone should inclose the symbols of +the "Woman Country." + +Feeling all these things of Mrs. Browning, it becomes the more painful +to place on record an account of those last days that have brought with +them so universal a sorrow. Mrs. Browning's illness was only of a week's +duration. Having caught a severe cold of a more threatening nature than +usual, medical skill was summoned; but, although anxiety in her behalf +was necessarily felt, there was no whisper of great danger until the +third or fourth night, when those who most loved her said they had never +seen her so ill; on the following morning, however, she was better, and +from that moment was thought to be improving in health. She herself +believed this; and all had such confidence in her wondrous vitality, and +the hope was so strong that God would spare her for still greater good, +that a dark veil was drawn over what might be. It is often the case, +where we are accustomed to associate constant suffering with dear +friends, that we calmly look danger in the face without misgivings. So +little did Mrs. Browning realize her critical condition, that, until the +last day, she did not consider herself sufficiently indisposed to remain +in bed, and then the precaution was accidental. So much encouraged +did she feel with regard to herself, that, on this final evening, an +intimate female friend was admitted to her bedside and found her in good +spirits, ready at pleasantry and willing to converse on all the old +loved subjects. Her ruling passion had prompted her to glance at the +"Athenaeum" and "Nazione"; and when this friend repeated the opinions +she had heard expressed by an acquaintance of the new Italian Premier, +Ricasoli, to the effect that his policy and Cavour's were identical, +Mrs. Browning "smiled like Italy," and thankfully replied,--"I am glad +of it; I thought so." Even then her thoughts were not of self. This near +friend went away with no suspicion of what was soon to be a terrible +reality. Mrs. Browning's own bright boy bade his mother goodnight, +cheered by her oft-repeated, "I am better, dear, much better." Inquiring +friends were made happy by these assurances. + +One only watched her breathing through the night,--he who for fifteen +years had ministered to her with all the tenderness of a woman. It was a +night devoid of suffering _to her_. As morning approached, and for +two hours previous to the dread moment, she seemed to be in a partial +ecstasy; and though not apparently conscious of the coming on of death, +she gave her husband all those holy words of love, all the consolation +of an oft-repeated blessing, whose value death has made priceless. +Such moments are too sacred for the common pen, which pauses as the +woman-poet raises herself up to die in the arms of her poet-husband. He +knew not that death had robbed him of his treasure, until the drooping +form grew chill and froze his heart's blood. + +At half-past four, on the morning of the 29th of June, Elizabeth Barrett +Browning died of congestion of the lungs. Her last words were, "_It is +beautiful!_" God was merciful to the end, sparing her and hers the agony +of a frenzied parting, giving proof to those who were left of the glory +and happiness in store for her, by those few words, "_It is beautiful!_" +The spirit could see its future mission even before shaking off the dust +of the earth. + +Gazing on her peaceful face with its eyes closed on us forever, our cry +was _her_ "Cry of the Human." + + "We tremble by the harmless bed + Of one loved and departed; + Our tears drop on the lips that said + Last night, 'Be stronger-hearted!' + O God! to clasp those fingers close, + And yet to feel so lonely! + To see a light upon such brows, + Which is the daylight only! + Be pitiful, O God!" + +On the evening of July 1st, the lovely English burying-ground without +the walls of Florence opened its gates to receive one more occupant. A +band of English, Americans, and Italians, sorrowing men and women, +whose faces as well as dress were in mourning, gathered around the bier +containing all that was mortal of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Who of +those present will forget the solemn scene, made doubly impressive by +the grief of the husband and son? "The sting of death is sin," said the +clergyman. Sinless in life, _her_ death, then, was without sting; and +turning our thoughts inwardly, we murmured _her_ prayers for the dead, +and wished that they might have been her burial-service. We heard her +poet-voice saying,-- + + "And friends, dear friends, when it shall be + That this low breath is gone from me, + And round my bier ye come to weep, + Let one most loving of you all + Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall,-- + He giveth His beloved sleep.'" + +But the tears would fall, as they bore her up the hill, and lowered "His +beloved" into her resting-place, the grave. The sun itself was sinking +to rest behind the western hills, and sent a farewell smile of love +into the east, that it might glance on the lowering bier. The distant +mountains hid their faces in a misty veil, and the tall cypress-trees +of the cemetery swayed and sighed as Nature's special mourners for her +favored child; and there they are to stand keeping watch over her. + + "Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little + birds sang west, + _Toll slowly!_ + And I said in under-breath, All our life is + mixed with death, + And who knoweth which is best? + + * * * * * + + "Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little + birds sang west, + _Toll slowly!_ + And I 'paused' to think God's greatness + flowed around our incompleteness,-- + Round our restlessness, His rest." + +Dust to dust,--and the earth fell with a dull echo on the coffin. We +gathered round to take one look, and saw a double grave, too large for +her;--may it wait long and patiently for _him!_ + +And now a mound of earth marks the spot where sleeps Elizabeth Barrett +Browning. A white wreath to mark her woman's purity lies on her head; +the laurel wreath of the poet lies at her feet; and friendly hands +scatter white flowers over the grave of a week as symbols of the dead. + +We feel as she wrote,-- + + "God keeps a niche + In heaven to hold our idols; and albeit + He brake them to our faces, and denied + That our close kisses should impair their white, + I know we shall behold them raised, complete, + The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, + New Memnons singing in the great God-light." + +It is strange that Cavour and Mrs. Browning should have died in the same +month, within twenty-three days of each other,--the one the head, the +other the heart of Italy. As head and heart made up the perfect life, +so death was not complete until Heaven welcomed both. It seemed also +strange, that on the night after Mrs. Browning's decease an unexpected +comet should glare ominously out of the sky. For the moment we were +superstitious, and believed in it as a minister of woe. + +Great as is this loss, Mrs. Browning's death is not without a sad +consolation. From the shattered condition of her lungs, the physician +feels assured that existence could not at the farthest have been +prolonged for more than six months. Instead of a sudden call to God, +life would have slowly ebbed away; and, too feeble for the slightest +exertion, she must have been denied the solace of books, of friends, of +writing, perhaps of thought even. God saved her from a living grave, +and her husband from protracted misery. Seeking for the shadow of Mrs. +Browning's self in her poetry, (for she was a rare instance of an +author's superiority to his work,) many an expression is found that +welcomes the thought of a change which would free her from the suffering +inseparable from her mortality. There is a yearning for a more fully +developed life, to be found most frequently in her sonnets. She writes +at times as though, through weakness of the body, her wings were tied:-- + + "When I attain to utter forth in verse + Some inward thought, my soul throbs audibly + Along my pulses, yearning to be free, + And something farther, fuller, higher rehearse, + To the individual true, and the universe, + In consummation of right harmony! + But, like a wind-exposed, distorted tree, + We are blown against forever by the curse + Which breathes through Nature. Oh, the world is weak; + The effluence of each is false to all; + Add what we best conceive, we fail to speak! + Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall, + And then resume thy broken strains, and seek + Fit peroration without let or thrall!" + +The "ashen garments" have fallen,-- + + "And though we must have and have had + Right reason to be earthly sad, + Thou Poet-God art great and glad!" + +It was meet that Mrs. Browning should come home to die in her Florence, +in her Casa Guidi, where she had passed her happy married life, where +her boy was born, and where she had watched and rejoiced over the second +birth of a great nation. Her heart-strings did not entwine themselves +around Rome as around Florence, and it seems as though life had been so +eked out that she might find a lasting sleep in Florence. Rome holds +fast its Shelley and Keats, to whose lowly graves there is many a +reverential pilgrimage; and now Florence, no less honored, has its +shrine sacred to the memory of Theodore Parker and Elizabeth Barrett +Browning. + +The present Florence is not the Florence of other days. It can never be +the same to those who loved it as much for Mrs. Browning's sake as for +its own. Her reflection remains and must ever remain; for, + + "while she rests, her songs in troops + Walk up and down our earthly slopes, + Companioned by diviner hopes." + +The Italians have shown much feeling at the loss which they, too, have +sustained,--more than might have been expected, when it is considered +that few of them are conversant with the English language, and that to +those few English poetry (Byron excepted) is unknown. + +A battalion of the National Guard was to have followed Mrs. Browning's +remains to the grave, had not a misunderstanding as to time frustrated +this testimonial of respect. The Florentines have expressed great +interest in the young boy, Tuscan-born, and have even requested that +he should be educated as an Italian, when any career in the new Italy +should be open to him. Though this offer will not be accepted, it was +most kindly meant, and shows with what reverence Florence regards the +name of Browning. Mrs. Browning's friends are anxious that a tablet to +her memory should be placed in the Florentine Pantheon, the Church of +Santa Croce. It is true she was not a Romanist, neither was she an +Italian,--yet she was Catholic, and more than an Italian. Her genius and +what she has done for Italy entitle her to companionship with Galileo, +Michel Angelo, Dante, and Alfieri. The friars who have given their +permission for the erection of a monument to Cavour in Santa Croce ought +willingly to make room for a tablet on which should be inscribed, + + SHE SANG THE SONG OF ITALY. + SHE WROTE "AURORA LEIGH." + + + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_Edwin of Deira._ By ALEXANDER SMITH. London: Macmillan & Co. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 16mo. + +A third volume of verse by Alexander Smith certainly claims a share of +public attention. We should not be at all surprised, if this, his latest +venture, turn out his most approved one. The volcanic lines in his +earlier pieces drew upon him the wrath of Captain Stab and many younger +officers of justice, till then innocent of ink-shed. The old weapons +will, no doubt, be drawn upon him profusely enough now. Suffice it for +us, this month, if we send to the printer a taste of Alexander's last +feast and ask him to "hand it round." + + * * * * * + +BERTHA. + + "So, in the very depth of pleasant May, + When every hedge was milky white, the lark + A speck against a cape of sunny cloud, + Yet heard o'er all the fields, and when his heart + Made all the world as happy as itself,-- + Prince Edwin, with a score of lusty knights, + Rode forth a bridegroom to bring home his bride. + Brave sight it was to see them on their way, + Their long white mantles ruffling in the wind, + Their jewelled bridles, horses keen as flame + Crushing the flowers to fragrance as they moved! + Now flashed they past the solitary crag, + Now glimmered through the forest's dewy gloom, + Now issued to the sun. The summer night + Hung o'er their tents, within the valley pitched, + Her transient pomp of stars. When that had paled, + And when the peaks of all the region stood + Like crimson islands in a sea of dawn, + They, yet in shadow, struck their canvas town; + For Love shook slumber from him as a foe, + And would not be delayed. At height of noon, + When, shining from the woods afar in front, + The Prince beheld the palace-gates, his heart + Was lost in its own beatings, like a sound + In echoes. When the cavalcade drew near, + To meet it, forth the princely brothers pranced, + In plume and golden scale; and when they met, + Sudden, from out the palace, trumpets rang + Gay wedding music. Bertha, among her maids, + Upstarted, as she caught the happy sound, + Bright as a star that brightens 'gainst the night. + When forth she came, the summer day was dimmed; + For all its sunshine sank into her hair, + Its azure in her eyes. The princely man + Lord of a happiness unknown, unknown, + Which cannot all be known for years and years,-- + Uncomprehended as the shapes of hills + When one stands in the midst! A week went by, + Deepening from feast to feast; and at the close, + The gray priest lifted up his solemn hands, + And two fair lives were sweetly blent in one, + As stream in stream. Then once again the knights + Were gathered fair as flowers upon the sward, + While in the distant chambers women wept, + And, crowding, blessed the little golden head, + So soon to lie upon a stranger's breast, + And light that place no more. The gate stood wide: + Forth Edwin came enclothed with happiness; + She trembled at the murmur and the stir + That heaved around,--then, on a sudden, shrank, + When through the folds of downcast lids she felt + Burn on her face the wide and staring day, + And all the curious eyes. Her brothers cried, + When she was lifted on the milky steed, + 'Ah! little one, 't will soon be dark to-night! + A hundred times we'll miss thee in a day, + A hundred times we'll rise up to thy call, + And want and emptiness will come on us! + Now, at the last, our love would hold thee back! + Let this kiss snap the cord! Cheer up, my girl! + We'll come and see thee when thou hast a boy + To toss up proudly to his father's face, + To let him hear it crow!' Away they rode; + And still the brethren watched them from the door, + Till purple distance took them. How she wept, + When, looking back, she saw the things she knew-- + The palace, streak of waterfall, the mead, + The gloomy belt of forest--fade away + Into the gray of mountains! With a chill + The wide strange world swept round her, and she clung + Close to her husband's side. A silken tent + They spread for her, and for her tiring-girls, + Upon the hills at sunset. All was hushed + Save Edwin; for the thought that Bertha slept + In that wild place,--roofed by the moaning wind, + The black blue midnight with its fiery pulse,-- + So good, so precious, woke a tenderness + In which there lived uneasily a fear + That kept him still awake. And now, high up, + There burned upon the mountain's craggy top + Their journey's rosy signal. On they went; + And as the day advanced, upon a ridge, + They saw their home o'ershadowed by a cloud; + And, hanging but a moment on the steep, + A sunbeam touched it into dusty rain; + And, lo, the town lay gleaming 'mong the woods, + And the wet shores were bright. As nigh they drew, + The town was emptied to its very babes, + And spread as thick as daisies o'er the fields. + The wind that swayed a thousand chestnut cones, + And sported in the surges of the rye, + Forgot its idle play, and, smit with love, + Dwelt in her fluttering robe. On every side + The people leaped like billows for a sight, + And closed behind, like waves behind a ship. + Yet, in the very hubbub of the joy, + A deepening hush went with her on her way; + She was a thing so exquisite, the hind + Felt his own rudeness; silent women blessed + The lady, as her beauty swam in eyes + Sweet with unwonted tears. Through crowds she passed, + Distributing a largess of her smiles; + And as she entered through the palace-gate, + The wondrous sunshine died from out the air, + And everything resumed its common look. + The sun dropped down into the golden west, + Evening drew on apace; and round the fire + The people sat and talked of her who came + That day to dwell amongst them, and they praised + Her sweet face, saying she was good as fair. + + "So, while the town hummed on as was its wont, + With mill, and wheel, and scythe, and lowing steer + In the green field,--while, round a hundred hearths, + Brown Labor boasted of the mighty deeds + Done in the meadow swaths, and Envy hissed + Its poison, that corroded all it touched,-- + Rusting a neighbor's gold, mildewing wheat, + And blistering the pure skin of chastest maid,-- + Edwin and Bertha sat in marriage joy, + From all removed, as heavenly creatures winged, + Alit upon a hill-top near the sun, + When all the world is reft of man and town + By distance, and their hearts the silence fills-- + Not long: for unto them, as unto all, + Down from love's height unto the world of men + Occasion called with many a sordid voice. + So forth they fared with sweetness in their hearts, + That took the sense of sharpness from the thorn. + Sweet is love's sun within the heavens alone, + But not less sweet when tempered by a cloud + Of daily duties! Love's elixir, drained + From out the pure and passionate cup of youth, + Is sweet; but better, providently used, + A few drops sprinkled in each common dish + Wherewith the human table is set forth, + Leavening all with heaven. Seated high + Among his people, on the lofty dais, + Dispensing judgment,--making woodlands ring + Behind a flying hart with hound and horn,-- + Talking with workmen on the tawny sands, + 'Mid skeletons of ships, how best the prow + May slice the big wave and shake off the foam,-- + Edwin preserved a spirit calm, composed, + Still as a river at the full of tide; + And in his eye there gathered deeper blue, + And beamed a warmer summer. And when sprang + The angry blood, at sloth, or fraud, or wrong, + Something of Bertha touched him into peace + And swayed his voice. Among the people went + Queen Bertha, breathing gracious charities, + And saw but smiling faces; for the light + Aye looks on brightened colors. Like the dawn + (Beloved of all the happy, often sought + In the slow east by hollow eyes that watch) + She seemed to husked find clownish gratitude, + That could but kneel and thank. Of industry + She was the fair exemplar, us she span + Among her maids; and every day she broke + Bread to the needy stranger at her gate. + All sloth and rudeness fled at her approach; + The women blushed and courtesied as she passed, + Preserving word and smile like precious gold; + And where on pillows clustered children's heads, + A shape of light she floated through their dreams." + + +_History, Theory, and Practice of the Electric Telegraph_. By GEORGE B. +PRESCOTT, Superintendent of Electric Telegraph Lines. Boston: Ticknor +and Fields. 1861. 12mo. + +It may be safely said that no one of the wonder-working agencies of the +nineteenth century, of an importance in any degree equal to that of the +Electric Telegraph, is so little understood in its practical details by +the world at large. Its results come before us daily, to satisfy +our morning and evening appetite for news; but how few have a clear +knowledge of even the simplest rules which govern its operation, to say +nothing of the vast and complicated system by which these results are +made so universal! The general intelligence, at present, doubtless +outruns the dull apprehension of the typical Hibernian, who, in earlier +telegraphic times, wasted the better part of a day in watching for the +passage of a veritable letter over the wires; but even now,--after +twenty years of Electric Telegraphy, during which the progress of the +magic wire has been so rapid that it has already reached an extent of +nearly sixty thousand miles in the United States alone,--even now the +ideas of men in general as to the _modus operandi_ of this great +agency are, to say the least, extremely vague. Even the chronic and +pamphlet-producing quarrel between the managers of our telegraphic +system and their Briarean antagonist, the daily-newspaper-press, fails +to convey to our general sense anything beyond the impression that +the most gigantic benefits may be so abused as to tempt us into an +occasional wish that they had never existed. + +One reason of this general ignorance has been the absence of any +text-book or manual on the subject, giving a clear and thorough +exposition of its mysteries. The present is the first American work +which takes the subject in hand from the beginning and carries it +through the entire process which leads to the results we have spoken of. +Its author brings to his work the best possible qualification,--a +long familiarity with the subject in the every-day details of its +development. His Introduction informs the reader that he has been +engaged for thirteen years in the business of practical telegraphing. +He is thus sure of his ground, from the best of sources, personal +experience. + +We shall not criticize the work in detail, but shall rest satisfied with +saying that the author has succeeded in his design of making the whole +subject clear to any reader who will follow his lucid and systematic +exposition. The plan of the work is simple, and the arrangement orderly +and proper. A concise statement is given of the fundamental principles +of electricity, and of the means of its artificial propagation. This +includes, of course, a description of the various batteries used in +telegraphing. Then follows a chapter upon electro-magnetism and its +application to the telegraph. This prepares the way for a statement +of the physical conditions under which the electrical current may be +conveyed. The author then describes the instruments necessary for the +transmission and recording of intelligible signs, under which general +head of "Electric Telegraph Apparatus" the various telegraphic systems +are made the subject of careful description. A chapter is given to the +history of each system,--the Morse, the Needle, the House, the Bain, the +Hughes, the Combination, and others of less note. These chapters are +very complete and very interesting, embodying, as they do, the history +of each instrument, the details of its use, and a statement of its +capabilities. The system most used in America is the Combination +system, the printing instrument of which is the result of an ingenious +combination of the most desirable qualities of the House and Hughes +systems. Of this fine instrument a full-page engraving is given, which, +with Mr. Prescott's careful explanation, renders the recording process +very clear. + +The next division of the work relates to subterranean and submarine +telegraphic lines. Of this the greater portion is devoted to the +Atlantic cable, the great success and the great failure of our time. +The chapter devoted to this unfortunate enterprise gives the completest +account of its rise, progress, and decline that we have ever seen. It +seems to set at rest, so far as evidence can do it, the mooted question +whether any message ever did really pass through the submerged cable,--a +point upon which there are many unbelievers, even at the present day. We +think these unbelievers would do well to read the account before us. Mr. +Prescott informs us, that, from the first laying of the cable to the day +when it ceased to work, no less than four hundred messages were actually +transmitted: one hundred and twenty-nine from Valentia to Trinity Bay, +and two hundred and seventy-one from Trinity Bay to Valentia. The +curious reader may find copies of all these messages chronologically set +down in this volume. Mr. Prescott expresses entire confidence in the +restoration of telegraphic communication between the two hemispheres. It +may be reasonably doubted, however, if _direct submarine_ communication +will ever be resumed. Two other routes are suggested as more likely +to become the course of the international wires. One is that lately +examined by Sir Leopold M'Clintock and Captain Young, under the auspices +of the British Government. This route, taking the extreme northern coast +of Scotland as its point of departure, and touching the Faroe Islands, +Iceland, and Greenland, strikes our continent upon the coast of +Labrador, making the longest submarine section eight hundred miles, +about one-third the length of the Atlantic cable. There is not a little +doubt, however, as to the practicability of this route; and as the +British Government has already expended several hundred thousand pounds +in experimenting upon submarine cables, it is not likely that it will +venture much more upon any project not holding out a very absolute +promise of success. What seems more likely is, that our telegraphic +communication with Europe will be made eventually through Asia. Even +now the Russian Government is vigorously pushing its telegraphic lines +eastward from Moscow; and its own interest affords a strong guaranty +that telegraphic communication will soon be established between its +commercial metropolis and its military and trading posts on the Pacific +border. A project has also recently taken form to establish a line +between Quebec and the Hudson Bay Company's posts north of the Columbia +River. With the two extremes so near meeting, a submarine wire would +soon be laid over Behring's Straits, or crossing at a more southern +point and touching the Aleutian Islands in its passage. + +Two of the chapters of this work will be recognized by readers of the +"Atlantic" as having first appeared in its pages,--a chapter upon the +Progress and Present Condition of the Electric Telegraph in the various +countries of the world, and a description of the Electrical Influence +of the Aurora Borealis upon the Working of the Telegraph. These, with +a curiously interesting chapter upon the Various Applications of the +Telegraph, and an amusing miscellaneous chapter showing that the +Telegraph has a literature of its own, complete the chief popular +elements of the volume. The remainder is devoted mainly to a technical +treatise on the proper method of constructing telegraphic lines, +perfecting insulation, etc. In an Appendix we have a more careful +consideration of Galvanism, and a more detailed examination of the +qualities and capacities of the various batteries. + +As is becoming in any, and especially in an American, treatise upon this +great subject, Mr. Prescott devotes some space to a detailed account of +the labors of Professor Morse, which have led to his being regarded as +the father of our American system of telegraphing. In a chapter entitled +"Early Discoveries in Electro-Dynamics," he publishes for the first time +some interesting facts elicited during the trial, in the Supreme Court +of the United States, of the suit of the Morse patentees against the +House Company for alleged infringement of patent. In this chapter we +have a _resume_ of the evidence before the Court, and an abstract of the +decision of Judge Woodbury. This leads clearly to the conclusion, that, +although Professor Morse had no claims to any merit of actual invention, +yet he had the purely mechanical merit of having gone beyond all his +compeers in the application of discoveries and inventions already made, +and that he was the first to contrive and set in operation a thoroughly +effective instrument. + +Mr. Prescott has produced a very readable and useful book. It has been +thoroughly and appropriately illustrated, and is a very elegant specimen +of the typographer's art. + + +_Great Expectations_. By CHARLES DICKENS. Philadelphia: T.B. Peterson & +Brothers. 8vo. + +The very title of this book indicates the confidence of conscious +genius. In a new aspirant for public favor, such a title might have been +a good device to attract attention; but the most famous novelist of the +day, watched by jealous rivals and critics, could hardly have selected +it, had he not inwardly felt the capacity to meet all the expectations +he raised. We have read it, as we have read all Mr. Dickens's previous +works, as it appeared in instalments, and can testify to the felicity +with which expectation was excited and prolonged, and to the series of +surprises which accompanied the unfolding of the plot of the story. In +no other of his romances has the author succeeded so perfectly in at +once stimulating and baffling the curiosity of his readers. He stirred +the dullest minds to guess the secret of his mystery; but, so far as +we have learned, the guesses of his most intelligent readers have been +almost as wide of the mark as those of the least apprehensive. It has +been all the more provoking to the former class, that each surprise was +the result of art, and not of trick; for a rapid review of previous +chapters has shown that the materials of a strictly logical development +of the story were freely given. Even after the first, second, third, and +even fourth of these surprises gave their pleasing electric shocks +to intelligent curiosity, the _denouement_ was still hidden, though +confidentially foretold. The plot of the romance is therefore +universally admitted to be the best that Dickens has ever invented. Its +leading events are, as we read the story consecutively, artistically +necessary, yet, at the same time, the processes are artistically +concealed. We follow the movement of a logic of passion and character, +the real premises of which we detect only when we are startled by the +conclusions. + +The plot of "Great Expectations" is also noticeable as indicating, +better than any of his previous stories, the individuality of Dickens's +genius. Everybody must have discerned in the action of his mind two +diverging tendencies, which, in this novel, are harmonized. He possesses +a singularly wide, clear, and minute power of accurate observation, +both of things and of persons; but his observation, keen and true to +actualities as it independently is, is not a dominant faculty, and is +opposed or controlled by the strong tendency of his disposition to +pathetic or humorous idealization. Perhaps in "The Old Curiosity Shop" +these qualities are best seen in their struggle and divergence, and +the result is a magnificent juxtaposition of romantic tenderness, +melodramatic improbabilities, and broad farce. The humorous +characterization is joyously exaggerated into caricature,--the serious +characterization into romantic unreality, Richard Swiveller and Little +Nell refuse to combine. There is abundant evidence of genius both in the +humorous and the pathetic parts, but the artistic impression is one of +anarchy rather than unity. + +In "Great Expectations," on the contrary, Dickens seems to have attained +the mastery of powers which formerly more or less mastered him. He has +fairly discovered that he cannot, like Thackeray, narrate a story as if +he were a mere looker-on, a mere "knowing" observer of what he describes +and represents; and he has therefore taken observation simply as the +basis of his plot and his characterization. As we read "Vanity Fair" and +"The Newcomes," we are impressed with the actuality of the persons and +incidents. There is an absence both of directing ideas and disturbing +idealizations. Everything drifts to its end, as in real life. In "Great +Expectations" there is shown a power of external observation finer and +deeper even than Thackeray's; and yet, owing to the presence of other +qualities, the general impression is not one of objective reality. The +author palpably uses his observations as materials for his creative +faculties to work upon; he does not record, but invents; and he produces +something which is natural only under conditions prescribed by his own +mind. He shapes, disposes, penetrates, colors, and contrives everything, +and the whole action, is a series of events which could have occurred +only in his own brain, and which it is difficult to conceive of as +actually "happening." And yet in none of his other works does he +evince a shrewder insight into real life, and a clearer perception +and knowledge of what is called "the world." The book is, indeed, an +artistic creation, and not a mere succession of humorous and pathetic +scenes, and demonstrates that Dickens is now in the prime, and not in +the decline of his great powers. + +The characters of the novel also show how deeply it has been meditated; +for, though none of them may excite the personal interest which clings +to Sam Weller or little Dombey, they are better fitted to each other and +to the story in which they appear than is usual with Dickens. They all +combine to produce that unity of impression which the work leaves on +the mind. Individually they will rank among the most original of the +author's creations. Magwitch and Joe Gargery, Jaggers and Wemmick, +Pip and Herbert, Wopsle, Pumblechook, and "the Aged," Miss Havisham, +Estella, and Biddy, are personages which the most assiduous readers of +Dickens must pronounce positive additions to the characters his rich and +various genius had already created. + +Pip, the hero, from whose mind the whole representation takes its form +and color, is admirably delineated throughout. Weak, dreamy, amiable, +apprehensive, aspiring, inefficient, the subject and the victim of +"Great Expectations," his individuality is, as it were, diffused through +the whole narrative. Joe is a noble character, with a heart too great +for his powers of expression to utter in words, but whose patience, +fortitude, tenderness, and beneficence shine lucidly through his +confused and mangled English. Magwitch, the "warmint" who "grew up took +up," whose memory extended only to that period of his childhood when he +was "a-thieving turnips for his living" down in Essex, but in whom a +life of crime had only intensified the feeling of gratitude for the one +kind action of which he was the object, is hardly equalled in grotesque +grandeur by anything which Dickens has previously done. The character +is not only powerful in itself, but it furnishes pregnant and original +hints to all philosophical investigators into the phenomena of crime. In +this wonderful creation Dickens follows the maxim of the great master of +characterization, and seeks "the soul of goodness in things evil." + +The style of the romance is rigorously close to things. The author is so +engrossed with the objects before his mind, is so thoroughly in earnest, +that he has fewer of those humorous caprices of expression in which +formerly he was wont to wanton. Some of the old hilarity and play of +fancy is gone, but we hardly miss it in our admiration of the effects +produced by his almost stern devotion to the main idea of his work. +There are passages of description and narrative in which we are hardly +conscious of the words, in our clear apprehension of the objects and +incidents they convey. The quotable epithets and phrases are less +numerous than in "Dombey & Son" and "David Copperfield"; but the scenes +and events impressed on the imagination are perhaps greater in number +and more vivid in representation. The poetical element of the writer's +genius, his modification of the forms, hues, and sounds of Nature by +viewing them through the medium of an imagined mind, is especially +prominent throughout the descriptions with which the work abounds. +Nature is not only described, but individualized and humanized. + +Altogether we take great joy in recording our conviction that "Great +Expectations" is a masterpiece. We have never sympathized in the mean +delight which some critics seem to experience in detecting the signs +which subtly indicate the decay of power in creative intellects. We +sympathize still less in the stupid and ungenerous judgments of those +who find a still meaner delight in wilfully asserting that the last book +of a popular writer is unworthy of the genius which produced his first. +In our opinion, "Great Expectations" is a work which proves that we may +expect from Dickens a series of romances far exceeding in power and +artistic skill the productions which have already given him such a +preeminence among the novelists of the age. + + +_Tom Brown at Oxford: A Sequel to School-Days at Rugby_. By the Author +of "School-Days at Rugby," "Scouring of the White Horse," etc. Boston: +Ticknor & Fields. 2 vols. 16mo. + +Thomas Hughes, the author of these volumes, does not, on a superficial +examination, seem to deserve the wide reputation he has obtained. We +hunt his books in vain for any of those obvious peculiarities of style, +thought, and character which commonly distinguish a man from his +fellows. He does not possess striking wit, or humor, or imagination, or +power of expression. In every quality, good or bad, calculated to create +"a sensation," he is remarkably deficient. Yet everybody reads him with +interest, and experiences for him a feeling of personal affection and +esteem. An unobtrusive, yet evident nobility of character, a sound, +large, "round-about" common-sense, a warm sympathy with English and +human kind, a practical grasp of human life as it is lived by ordinary +people, and an unmistakable sincerity and earnestness of purpose animate +everything he writes. His "School-Days at Rugby" delighted men as well +as boys by the freshness, geniality, and truthfulness with which it +represented boyish experiences; and the Tom Brown who, in that book, +gained so many friends wherever the English tongue is spoken, parts with +none of his power to interest and charm in this record of his collegiate +life. Mr. Hughes has the true, wholesome English love of home, the +English delight in rude physical sports, the English hatred of hypocrisy +and cant, the English fidelity to facts, the English disbelief in all +piety and morality which are not grounded in manliness. The present work +is full of illustrations of these healthy qualities of his nature, +and they are all intimately connected with an elevated, yet eminently +sagacious spirit of Christian philanthropy. Tom Brown at Oxford, as well +as Tom Brown at Rugby, will, so far as he exerts any influence, exert +one for good. He has a plentiful lack of those impossible virtues which +disgust boys and young men with the models set up as examples for them +to emulate in books deliberately moral and religious; but he none the +less shows how a manly and Christian character can be attained by +methods which are all the more influential by departing from the common +mechanical contrivances for fashioning lusty youths into consumptive +saints, incompetent to do the work of the Lord in this world, however +they may fare in the next. Mr. Hughes can hardly be called a disciple of +"Muscular Christianity," except so far as muscle is necessary to give +full efficiency to mind; but he feels all the contempt possible to such +a tolerant nature for that spurious piety which kills the body in order +to give a sickly appearance of life to the soul. + + * * * * * + + +RECENT AMERICAN PUBLICATIONS + +RECEIVED BY THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + + +History of Civilization in England. By Henry Thomas Buckle. Vol. II. +From the Second London Edition, to which is added an Alphabetical Index. +New York. D. Appleton & Co. 8vo. pp. 476. $2.50. + +Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa: with Accounts of the +Manners and Customs of the People, and of the Chase of the Gorilla and +other Wild Animals. By Paul B. Du Chaillu. Illustrated. New York. Harper +& Brothers. 8vo. pp. 526. $3.00. + +The Adventures of Captain Bonneville, U.S.A., in the Rocky Mountains +and the Far West. Digested from his Journal, and illustrated from +Various other Sources. By Washington Irving. Author's Revised Edition. +New York. G.P. Putnam. 12mo. pp. 427. $1.50. + +Miles Wallingford. A Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore." By J. Fenimore +Cooper. From Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. W.A. Townsend & Co. +12mo. pp. 467. $1.50. + +Ways of the Hour. A Tale. By J. Fenimore Cooper. Illustrated from +Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. W.A. Townsend & Co. 12mo. pp. +512. $1.50. + +The Heidenmaner; or, The Benedictines. A Legend of the Rhine. By J. +Fenimore Cooper. Illustrated from Drawings by F.O.C. Darley. New York. +W.A. Townsend & Co. 12mo. pp. 464. $1.50. + +The Works of Edgar Allan Poe. New Edition, on tinted paper. New York. +W.J. Widdleton. 4 vols. 12mo. pp. 481. $5.00. + +The Fifth Reader of the School and Family Series. By M. Willson. New +York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 540. $1.00. + +Military Dictionary: Comprising Technical Definitions, Information on +Raising and Keeping Troops, Actual Service, including Makeshift and +Improved Material, and Law, Government, Regulation, and Administration +relating to Land Forces. By Colonel H.L. Scott, Inspector General U.S.A. +New York. D. Van Nostrand. 8vo. pp. 674. $5.00. + +Philip Thaxter. A Novel. New York. Rudd & Carleton. 12mo. pp. 350. +$1.00. + +Poem, delivered before the Alumni Association of the New England Yearly +Meeting School, at their Third Annual Meeting at Newport, 1861. By Pliny +Earle, M.D. Providence. Knowles, Anthony, & Co. 8vo. paper. pp. 16. 12 +cts. + +Chamber's Encyclopaedia: A Dictionary of Universal Knowledge for +the People, on the Basis of the Latest Edition of the German +Conversations-Lexicon. Parts XXXI., XXXII., XXXIII. Philadelphia. J.B. +Lippincott & Co. 8vo. paper. each part, pp. 55. 15 cts. + +Sermons and Speeches of Gerritt Smith. New York. Ross & Tousey. 8vo. pp. +200. $1.00. + +Mahomet and his Successors. By Washington Irving. Vol. I. Illustrated +Edition. New York. G.P. Putnam. 12mo. pp. 372. $1.50. + +Abridgment of the Debates of Congress, from 1789 to 1856, from Gales and +Seaton's Annals of Congress, from their Register of Debates, and from +the Official Reported Debates, by John C. Rives. By the Author of "The +Thirty Years' View." Vol. XVI. New York. D. Appleton & Co. 8vo. pp. 631. +$3.00. + +The Silent Woman. By the Author of "King's Cope," etc. Boston. T.O.H.P. +Burham. 8vo. paper. pp. 178. 50 cts. + +Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens. Household Edition. New York. W.A. +Townsend & Co. 16mo. 2 vols. pp. 285 and 290. $1.50. + +Poems by Mrs. Virginia Quarles. New York. Rudd & Carleton. 12mo. pp. +120. 50 cts. + +Elementary Instruction in Naval Ordnance and Gunnery. By James H. Ward, +Commander U.S.N. New York. James H. Ward. 8vo. pp. 209. $2.50. + +T. Lucretii Cari de Rerum Natura Libri Sex. Recognovit Hugo A.I. Munro, +M.A. New York. Harper & Brothers. 24mo. pp. 190. 40 cts. + +C. Julii Caesaris Commentarii de Bello Gallico. Recognovit Geo. Long, +M.A. New York. Harper & Brothers. 24mo. pp. 137. 40 cts. + +M. Tullii Ciceronis Cato Major, sive de Senectute; Laelius, sive de +Amicitia; et Epistolas Selectae. Recensuit G. Long. New York. Harper & +Brothers. 24mo. pp. 112. 40 cts. + +History of Margaret of Anjou, Queen of Henry VI. of England. By Jacob +Abbott. New York. Harper & Brothers. 18mo. pp. 314. 60 cts. + +Primary Object Lessons for a Graduated Course of Development. A Manual +for Teachers and Parents. With Lessons for the Proper Training of the +Faculties of Children. By N.A. Calkins. New York. Harper & Brothers. +12mo. pp. 362. $1.00. + +Framley Parsonage. A Novel. By Anthony Trollope. New York. Harper & +Brothers. 12mo. pp. 536. $1.00. + +Seasons with the Sea-Horses; or, Sporting Adventures in the Northern +Seas. By James Lamont. New York. Harper & Brothers. 8vo. pp. 283. $1.75. + +Carthage and her Remains: being an Account of the Excavations and +Researches on the Site of the Phoenician Metropolis in Africa and other +Adjacent Places. By Dr. N. Davis. Illustrated. New York. 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