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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: Continental Monthly, Vol. 5, Issue 2, February, 1864 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 11, 2006 [EBook #18554] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY, VOL. 5 *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h1>CONTINENTAL MONTHLY:</h1> + +<h4>DEVOTED TO</h4> + +<h2>Literature and National Policy.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>VOL. V.</h3> + +<h4>FEBRUARY, 1864—No. II.<br /><br /></h4> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="80%" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THOMAS_JEFFERSON_AS_SEEN_BY_THE_LIGHT_OF_1863">THOMAS JEFFERSON, AS SEEN BY THE LIGHT OF 1863.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_ENGLISH_PRESS">THE ENGLISH PRESS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#THE_ENGLISH_PRESS">PART II.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_TREASURY_REPORT_AND_MR_SECRETARY_CHASE">THE TREASURY REPORT AND MR. SECRETARY CHASE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ASPIRO_A_FABLE">ASPIRO.—A FABLE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_RED_MANS_PLEA">THE RED MAN'S PLEA.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BUCKLE_DRAPER_AND_A_SCIENCE_OF_HISTORY">BUCKLE, DRAPER, AND A SCIENCE OF HISTORY.—THIRD PAPER</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#DIARY_OF_FRANCES_KRASINSKA">DIARY OF FRANCES KRASINSKA.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#PETROLEUM">PETROLEUM.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_ANGELS_OF_WAR">THE ANGELS OF WAR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_TRAGEDY_OF_ERROR">A TRAGEDY OF ERROR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#A_TRAGEDY_OF_ERROR">CHAPTER I.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#NOS_AMIS_LES_COSAQUES">'NOS AMIS LES COSAQUES!'</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#WAS_HE_SUCCESSFUL">WAS HE SUCCESSFUL?—PART THE LAST.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIB">CHAPTER II.—<i>continued</i>.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIIB">CHAPTER III.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IVB">CHAPTER IV.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VB">CHAPTER V.</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_ANDES">THE ANDES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#NATIONAL_FRIENDSHIPS">NATIONAL FRIENDSHIPS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#NORTH_AND_SOUTH">NORTH AND SOUTH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LITERARY_NOTICES">LITERARY NOTICES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#EDITORS_TABLE">EDITOR'S TABLE.</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THOMAS_JEFFERSON_AS_SEEN_BY_THE_LIGHT_OF_1863" id="THOMAS_JEFFERSON_AS_SEEN_BY_THE_LIGHT_OF_1863"></a>THOMAS JEFFERSON, AS SEEN BY THE LIGHT OF 1863.</h2> + + +<p>Mr. Jefferson, in his lifetime, underwent the extremes of abuse and of +adulation. Daily, semi-weekly, or weekly did Fenno, Porcupine Cobbett, +Dennie, Coleman, and the other Federal journalists, not content with +proclaiming him an ambitious, cunning, and deceitful demagogue, ridicule +his scientific theories, shudder at his irreligion, sneer at his +courage, and allude coarsely to his private morals in a manner more +discreditable to themselves than to him; crowning all their accusations +and innuendoes with a reckless profusion of epithet. While at the same +times and places the whole company of the Democratic press, led by +Bache, Duane, Cheetham, Freneau, asserted with equal energy that he was +the greatest statesman, the profoundest philosopher, the very sun of +republicanism, the abstract of all that was glorious in democracy. And +if Abraham Bishop, of New Haven, Connecticut, compared him with Christ, +a great many New Englanders of more note than Bishop, pronounced him the +man of sin, a malignant manifestation of Satan. On one or the other of +these two scales he was placed by every man in the United States, +according to each citizen's modicum of sense and temper. We say, every +man—because in that war of the Democrats against the Federalists, no +one sought to escape the service. Every able-tongued man was ready to +fight with it, either for Jefferson or against him.</p> + +<p>When Jefferson passed away triumphant, toleration set in. His enemies +dropped him to turn upon living prey. They came to acquiesce in him, and +even to quote him when he served their purpose. But the admiration of +his followers did not abate. They canonized him as the apostle of +American democracy, and gave his name to the peculiar form of the +doctrine they professed. For many years the utterances of the master +were conclusive to the common men of the party—better far than the +arguments of any living leader. Of late we have heard less of him. The +right wing of the democracy begin to doubt the expediency of the States' +Rights theory; and with the wrong wing his standing has been injured by +the famous passage on slavery in the 'Notes on Virginia.' The wrong wing +of the Democratic party are the men who cry out for the 'Constitution as +it is, and the Union as it was'—a cry full of sound and often of fury; +but what does it signify? The first gun that was fired at Fort Sumter +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>shattered the old Union. If peace men and abolitionists, secessionists +and conservatives were to agree together to restore the old Union to the +<i>status quo ante bellum</i>, they could not do it. 'When an epoch is +finished,' as Armand Carrel once wrote, 'the mould is broken, it cannot +be made again.' All that can be done is to gather up the fragments, and +to use them wisely in a new construction. An Indian neophyte came one +day to the mission, shouting: 'Moses, Isaiah, Abraham, Christ, John the +Baptist!' When out of breath, the brethren asked him what he meant. 'I +mean a glass of cider.' If the peace party were as frank as the Indian, +they would tell us that their cry signifies place, power, self. The +prodigal sons of the South are to be lured back by promises of pardon, +indemnification, niggers <i>ad libitum</i>, before they have satiated +themselves with the husks which seem to have fallen to their portion, +and are willing to confess that they have sinned against heaven and +against their country. The arms of the peace men are open; the best +robe, the ring, the fatted calf are ready. All that is asked in return +is a Union (as it was) of votes, influence, and contributions, to place +the party in power and to keep it there.</p> + +<p>These misguided Democrats owe to Jefferson the war cries they shout and +the arms they are using against the Government. His works are an arsenal +where these weapons of sedition are arranged ready for use, bright and +in good order, and none of them as yet superseded by modern +improvements. He first made excellent practice with the word +'unconstitutional,' an engine dangerous and terrible to the +Administration against which it is worked; and of easy construction, for +it can be prepared out of anything or nothing. Jefferson found it very +effective in annoying and embarrassing the Government in his campaigns. +But as he foresaw that the time must come when the Supreme Court of the +United States would overpower this attack, he adapted, with great +ingenuity, to party warfare the theory of States' Rights, which in 1787 +had nearly smothered the Constitution in its cradle. This dangerous +contrivance he used vigorously against the alien and sedition law, +without considering that his blows were shaking the Union itself. Mr. +Calhoun looked upon the Kentucky Resolutions (Jefferson's own work) as +the bill of rights of nullification, and wrote for a copy of them in +1828 to use in preparing his manifesto of the grievances of South +Carolina. It is unnecessary to allude to the triumph of these doctrines +at the South under the name of secession.</p> + +<p>As Jefferson soon perceived that a well-disciplined band of needy +expectants was the only sure resort in elections, he hit upon rotation +in office as the cheapest and most stimulating method of paying the +regular soldiers of party for their services (if successful) on these +critical occasions. But as a wise general not only prepares his attack, +but carefully secures a retreat in case his men push too far in the heat +of conflict, Jefferson suggested the plan of an elective judiciary, +which he foresaw might prove of great advantage to those whose zeal +should outrun the law. He even recommended rebellion in popular +governments as a political safety valve; and talked about Shay's War and +the Whiskey Insurrection in the same vein and almost the same language +that was lately used to the rioters of New York by their friends and +fellow voters. And he and his followers shouted then, as their +descendants shout now, 'Liberty is in danger!' 'The last earthly hope of +republican institutions resides in our ranks!' Jefferson is also +entitled to the credit of naturalizing in the United States the phrases +of the French Revolution: virtue of the people; reason of the people; +natural rights of man, etc.—that Babylonish dialect, as John Adams +called it, which in France meant some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>thing, but in this country was +mere cant. Jefferson knew that here all were people, and that no set of +men, whether because of riches or of poverty, had the right to arrogate +to themselves this distinction. But he also knew that in Europe this +distinction did exist, and that the emigrants who were coming in such +numbers all belonged to the lower class, there called people. Of course +these flattering phrases would win their ears and their votes for the +people's ticket, against an imaginary aristocracy. Thus might be secured +an army of obedient voters, knowing nothing but their orders, and +thinking of nothing but the pleasing idea that they were the rulers.</p> + +<p>These useful inventions are enough to immortalize any man. His theory, +that the rich only should be taxed, as an indirect form of agrarianism, +ought not to be forgotten, for we see it daily carried out; and his +darling doctrine, that no generation can bind its successors, will come +to light again and life whenever a party may think the repudiation of +our war debt likely to be a popular measure. Indeed, there is scarcely a +form of disorganization and of disorder which Jefferson does not extract +from some elementary principle or natural right. We do not mean to +accuse him of doing wrong deliberately. Jefferson was an optimist. All +was for the best—at least, all that he did; for he was naturally +predisposed to object to any measure which did not originate with +himself or had not been submitted to his judgment. His elementary +principles were always at his call. They were based upon reason: how +could they be wrong? His mind grasped quickly all upon the surface that +suited his purpose; deeper he did not care to go. In deciding whether +any political doctrine was consistent or inconsistent with natural +reason, he generally judged of it by his reason—and this varied with +his position, his interest, his feelings. He probably was not aware of +the extent of his mutations; his mind was fixed on the results to be +obtained—always the same: the gratification of his wishes. His was a +Vicar-of-Bray kind of logic. The ultimate results of his dealings, as +affecting others and the nation at large, he apparently was unable to +consider, or put them aside for the time; taking it for granted, in a +careless way, that all must come well.</p> + +<p>Thus as times changed, he changed with them. Laws, measures, customs, +men, that seemed useful and praiseworthy when he was a private +individual, appeared pernicious and wicked to the Secretary of State or +to the President. His life and writings are full of self-contradictions, +or rather of self-refutations, for he seems to forget that he had ever +thought differently. Men of sense modify their opinions as they advance +in years and in wisdom, but very few men of sense have held +diametrically different opinions on almost every important question that +has come before them.</p> + +<p>Jefferson satisfied himself early in life that slavery was wrong, +morally and economically. On no subject has he expressed himself more +decidedly. When a very young member of the Assembly of Virginia, he +seconded Colonel Bland's motion to extend the protection of the laws to +slaves. Bland was treated roughly, and the matter dropped. From +Jefferson's original draft of the Declaration of Independence a long +passage on the iniquity of slavery and the slave trade was stricken out +by Congress. In 1778 he introduced a bill prohibiting the importation of +slaves into Virginia. Two years later he wrote the well-known pages in +the 'Notes.' In 1783 it was proposed to adopt a new constitution in +Virginia; Jefferson drew one up, and inserted an article granting +liberty to all persons born of slave parents after the year 1800. From +that time his zeal began to cool. He perceived that his views were +unpopular at the South. The 'Notes' had been printed for private +circulation only; when Châstellux asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> permission to publish them in +France, Jefferson consented on the condition that all passages relating +to slavery should be stricken out.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> Although he adopted so heartily +the most extravagant doctrines of the French Revolution on the natural +rights of mankind, among which liberty, equality, fraternity certainly +ranked first, he quietly ignored the claims of the American black to a +share in the bright future that was promised to the human race. The act +of Congress prohibiting the importation of slaves came into force in +1808. It was well received by slave owners, for it increased the value +of the homemade 'article.' Jefferson could safely approve of it. He did +so warmly. With that exception his silence on this great question was +profound during the period of his power; but he had no language too +theatrical for liberty in the abstract, nor too violent for despots who +were three thousand miles away, and with whose oppressions the people of +the United States had no concern whatever. When the debates on the +admission of Missouri brought up this ever-recurring question again to +the exclusion of all others, Jefferson spoke to sneer at the friends of +freedom. The Federalists had found out that their cherished monarchical +'form' would get them no adherents, and so were trying to throw a new +tub to the whale by appealing to the virtuous sentiments of the people. +He was in favor of making Missouri a Slave State. To extend the area of +slavery would increase the comfort of the slaves without adding one more +to their number, and would improve their chances for emancipation. It +would also relieve Virginia from the burden that was weighing her +down—slaves being rather cheaper there than horses—and would enable +her to export her surplus crop of negroes; perhaps eventually to dispose +of them all. This last notion, by the way, gives us a pretty good idea +of Jefferson's practical knowledge of political economy.</p> + +<p>His chief objection to the new constitution, when he first saw it, was +the omission in it of a bill of rights providing for the 'eternal and +unremitting force of the habeas corpus act'—and for the freedom of the +press. When Colonel Burr was arrested, Jefferson, who, by the way, +showed a want of dignity and self-respect throughout the affair, was +eager to suspend the habeas corpus act, and got a bill to that effect +passed by one branch of Congress; it was lost in the other. This was the +first instance in the history of the United States. The many fine things +he had said on the integrity and independence of judges did not prevent +him from finding bitter fault with Chief-Justice Marshall for not +convicting Burr. He accused Marshall and the whole tribe of Federalists +of complicity in Burr's conspiracy. Poor old Paine, then near his end, +who was one of Jefferson's jackals of the press, informed the +Chief-Justice, through the <i>Public Advertiser</i>, that he was 'a suspected +character.' When Jefferson had felt the pricking of the Federal quills, +he began to think differently of the freedom of the press. Once, in the +safety of private station, he had got off this antithesis: if he had to +choose between a government without newspapers, and newspapers without a +government, he should prefer the latter. But when in his turn he felt +the stings that previously, under his management, had goaded even +Washington out of his self-control, Jefferson could not help saying that +'a suspension of the press would not more completely deprive the nation +of its benefits than is done by its abandoned prostitution to +falsehood.'</p> + +<p>Before September, 1791, Mr. Jefferson thought that our affairs were +proceeding in a train of unparalleled prosperity, owing to the real +improvements of the Government, and the unbounded con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>fidence reposed in +it by the people. Soon a jealousy of Hamilton came upon him, and the +displeasure of playing a second part: he began to look for relief in the +ranks of the malcontents. He then perceived monarchical longings in the +Administration party, and prophesied corruption, despotism, and a loss +of liberty forever, if they were to be allowed to interpret the +Constitution in their way. Washington was the Atlas whose broad +shoulders bore up the Federalists. Bache, of the <i>Aurora</i>, with whom +Jefferson's word was law, and Freneau, of the <i>Gazette</i>, who had +received from Jefferson a clerkship in the Department of State, accused +the General of a desire to subvert the Constitution: the reserve of his +manners was said to proceed from an affectation of royalty; they even +ventured to charge him with perverting the public money. Jefferson +refused to check these base attacks, and wrote in the same vein himself +in the famous letter to Mazzei. But after the battle had been fought, he +perceived that Washington had a hold stronger than party feelings on the +affections of Americans. It would never do to leave his name and fame in +the custody of Federalists. And so Mr. Jefferson turned about and denied +that he had ever made any charges against General Washington. On the +contrary, he felt certain that Washington did not harbor one principle +of Federalism. He was neither an Angloman, a monarchist, nor a +separatist. Bache he (Jefferson) knew nothing about; over Freneau he had +no control; and the Mazzei letter had been misprinted and +misinterpreted. In spite of his hatred of England, and his fears lest +the English 'form' should be adopted in the United States, Jefferson, in +1788, had recommended the English form to Lafayette for the use of +France. And in spite of the admiration for France, which with him and +the Democrats was an essential article of the party faith, he took +offence with the French Government because they sided with Spain in the +dispute on the boundary line between Louisiana and Florida, and proposed +to Madison an alliance with England against France and Spain. But +Madison kept him steady. Six months later he accused John Randolph, who +had abandoned the party, of entertaining the intolerable heresy of a +league with England.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jefferson once thought it necessary that the United States should +possess a naval force. It would be less dangerous to our liberties than +an army, and a cheaper and more effective weapon of offence. 'The sea is +the field on which we should meet a European enemy.' 'We can always have +a navy as strong as the weaker nations.' And he suggested that thirty +ships, carrying 1,800 guns, and manned by 14,400 men, would be an +adequate force. But the New Englanders, those bitter Federalists, loved +the sea, lived by foreign trade, and wanted a fleet to protect their +merchantmen. Mr. Jefferson's views became modified. He took a strong +dislike to the naval service. He condemned the use of the navy by the +late President, and wished to sell all the public armed vessels. +Finding, however, that the maritime tastes of the nation were too strong +for him, he hit upon the plan of a land navy as the nearest +approximation to no navy at all. Gunboats were to be hauled out of the +water, and kept in drydocks under sheds, in perfect preservation. A +fleet of this kind only needed a corps of horse marines to complete its +efficiency. The Federalists laughed at these 'mummy frigates,' and sang +in a lullaby for Democratic babes this stanza:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'In a cornfield, high and dry,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sat gunboat Number One;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Wiggle waggle went her tail,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pop went her gun.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The pleasantry is feeble; but the inborn absurdity of this amphibious +scheme was too great even for the Democrats. Mr. Jefferson was forced, +in the teeth of theory, to send a squadron against the Barbary pirates. +He consoled him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>self by ordering the commodore not to overstep the +strict line of defence, and to make no captures. It was to be a display +of latent force. Strange as it may seem, he once doubted the expediency +of encouraging immigration. Emigrants from absolute monarchies, as they +all were, they would either bring with them the principles of government +imbibed in early youth, or exchange these for an unbounded +licentiousness. 'It would be a miracle were they to stop precisely at +the point of temperate liberty.' Would it not be better for the nation +to grow more slowly, and have a more 'homogeneous, more peaceable, and +more durable' government? But when it was found at a later day that the +new comers placed themselves at once in opposition to the better classes +and voted the Democratic ticket almost to a man, Jefferson proposed that +the period of residence required by the naturalization laws to qualify a +voter should be shortened. He had no objection to coercion before 1787. +Speaking of the backwardness of some of the colonies in paying their +quota of the Confederate expenses, he recommends sending a frigate to +make them more punctual. 'The States must see the rod, perhaps some of +them must be made to feel it.' His somersets of opinion and conduct are +endless. Once he talked of opening a market in the neighboring colonies +by force; at another time he advised his countrymen to abandon the sea +and let other nations carry for us; in 1785 we find him going abroad to +negotiate commercial treaties with all Europe. He objected to internal +improvements, and he sanctioned the Cumberland road. He proclaimed all +governments naturally hostile to the liberties of the people, until he +himself became a government. He made the mission to Russia for Mr. +Short, regardless of repeated declarations that the public business +abroad could be done better with fewer and cheaper ambassadors. The +unlucky sedition law was so unconstitutional in his judgment that he +felt it to be his duty, as soon as he mounted the throne, to pardon all +who had been convicted under it. But before he left the White House he +attempted to put down Federal opposition in the same way. Judges were +impeached; United States attorneys brought libel suits against editors, +and even prosecuted such men as Judge Reeve and the Rev. Mr. Backus of +Connecticut. It was a pet doctrine of Jefferson that one generation had +no right to bind a succeeding one; hence every constitution and all laws +should become null and every national debt void at the end of nineteen +years, or of whatever period should be ascertained to be the average +duration of human life after the age of twenty-one. He adhered to this +notion through life, although Mr. Madison, when urged by him to expound +it, gently pointed out its absurdity. When the news of the massacres of +September reached the United States at an unfortunate moment for the +Francoman party, Jefferson forgot this elementary principle and his +logic. He professed that he deplored the bloody fate of the victims as +much as any man, but they had perished for the sake of future +generations, and that thought consoled him. Finally, the man who had +announced in a public address, that he considered it a moral duty never +to subscribe to a lottery, nor to engage in a game of chance, petitioned +the Legislature of Virginia for permission to dispose of his house and +lands in a raffle, and in his memorial recapitulated his services to the +country to strengthen his claim upon their indulgence.</p> + +<p>Jefferson professed great faith in human nature; but he meant the human +nature of the uneducated and the poor. Kings, rulers, nobles, rich +persons, and generally all of the party opposed to him, were hopelessly +wrong. The errors of the people, when they committed any, were +accidental and momentary; but in the other class, they were proofs of an +ineradicable perversity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> His faith in human reason as the only power +for good government must have been shaken by the students of his +university in Virginia. Their lawless conduct seemed to indicate that +the time had hardly yet come when the old and vulgar method of authority +and force could be dispensed with. The University of Virginia was a +favorite project of Jefferson and an honorable memorial of his love of +education and of letters. Although it may be considered a failure, it +has failed from no fault of his. But we may judge of the real extent of +Jefferson's toleration, when we read in a letter written about this +university: 'In the selection of our law professor we must be rigorously +attentive to his political principles.'</p> + +<p>It is easy to know what would be Jefferson's position if by some miracle +of nature he were living in these times. If at the South, he would be a +man of brave words—showing it to be a natural right of the white man to +own and to chastise his negro—and proving, from elementary principles, +that slavery is the result of the supremacy of reason and the corner +stone of civilized society. Had the advantages of the North led him to +desert Monticello for the banks of the Hudson, he would have opposed the +Administration, acting and talking much like a certain high official, +'letting I dare not wait upon I would'—for Jefferson was not a bold +man, was master of the art of insinuating his opinions instead of +stating them manfully, and never advanced so far as to make retreat +impossible.</p> + +<p>The truth is that there was nothing great nor even imposing in +Jefferson's mental nor in his moral qualities. He expressed himself well +in conversation and on paper, although a little pedagogical in manner, +and too much given to epithet in style. The literary claims of the +author of the Declaration of Independence cannot be passed over lightly. +His mind was active; catching quickly the outlines of a subject, he +jumped at the conclusion which pleased his fancy, without looking +beneath the surface.<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> He was curious in all matters of art, +literature, and science, but his curiosity was easily appeased. He raves +about Ossian, gazes for hours on the Maison Carrée at Nismes, writes +letters to Paine on arcs and catenaries, busies himself with +vocabularies, natural history, geology, discourses magisterially about +Newton and Lavoisier, and studies nothing thoroughly. One can see by the +way in which he handles his technical terms that he does not know the +use of them. He was a smatterer of that most dangerous kind, who feel +certain they have arrived at truth. Like so many other children of the +eighteenth century, he rejected the past with disdain, but was blindly +credulous of the future; and was ready to embrace an absurdity if it +came in a new and scientific shape. The marquises and abbés he met in +France had dreamed over elementary principles of society and government, +until they had lost themselves in wandering mazes like Milton's +speculative and erring angels. He believed that those gay <i>philosophes</i> +had discovered the magical stone of social science, and that misery and +sin would be transmuted into virtue and happiness. It was only necessary +to kill all the kings and to confide in the reason and virtue of the +people, and the thing was done. The scenes of 1789 stimulated +Jefferson's natural tendency beyond the bounds of common sense. He +asserted that Indians without a government were better off than +Europeans with one, and that half the world a desert with only an Adam +and Eve left in each country to repopulate it would be an improvement in +the condition of Europe. He became a bigot of liberalism. Luckily he +had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> his American blood and practical education to restrain him, or he +might have been as foolish as Brissot and as rabid as Marat. As it was, +he could not help perceiving in his calmer moments that this new path to +the glorious future which the <i>philosophes</i> were pointing out to their +countrymen, had been for many years in America the well-worn high road +of the nation.</p> + +<p>On most subjects, Jefferson's opinions were dictated by his feelings. He +takes so little pains to conceal this weakness, that we can hardly +suppose he was aware of it. Contradiction he could not bear. Opposition +of any kind produced a bitter feeling. Vanity, latent perhaps, but +acrid, corroded his judgment of his adversaries. In France Governeur +Morris remarked that he was too fond of calling fools those who did not +agree with him; a sure sign of want of strength. Great minds are +essentially tolerant of the opinions of others. They know how easy it is +to err. There was a good deal, too, of the Pharisee about Jefferson. 'He +was of no party, nor yet a trimmer between parties. If he could not go +to heaven but with a party, he would not go there at all.' But he +thanked God he was not as the Federalists were: Anglomen, monarchists, +workers of corruption! nor even as this Washington! He boasted, too, +that he had never written a line for the public press; his method was to +suggest his views to others, and employ them to put them into print.</p> + +<p>Careful not to speak out too boldly when it was not altogether safe to +do so, and wanting rather in moral courage, he was a persevering man, +pursuing his plans with the eagerness of women, who always have a +thousand excellent reasons, however illogical and inconsistent they may +be, for doing as they please—and like women, he was not over scrupulous +as to the means he employed to reach his object.</p> + +<p>The same envious vanity and inability to resist his feelings which +warped his judgment into so many contradictions, led him into actions +that have damaged his character as a gentleman. For instance, his +behavior to Washington. When a member of Washington's cabinet, +protesting the warmest friendship to him, his confidential adviser by +virtue of the office he held, he permitted, not to say encouraged, those +attacks in Freneau's paper which were outrages on common decency. His +intimacy with the President enabled him to judge of the effect of the +blows. He noticed, with the cool precision of an experimental observer, +the symptoms of pain and annoyance which Washington could not always +conceal. Freneau was Jefferson's clerk; a word would have stopped him. +'But I will not do it,' Jefferson says; 'his paper has saved our +Constitution, which was galloping forth into monarchy.' Jefferson's +underhand attack upon Vice-President Adams, in the note he wrote by way +of preface to the American publisher of Paine's 'Rights of Man,' is a +domestic treachery of the same kind, though very much less in degree. +That note might have been written on the impulse of the moment; but what +shall we say of his practice of committing to paper Hamilton's sayings +in the freedom of after-dinner conversation—a time when open-hearted +men are apt to forget that there may be a Judas at table—and of saving +them up to be used against him in the future? Jefferson explains away +these and other dubious passages in his life with great ingenuity. He +had to make such explanations too often. An apology implies a mistake, +wilful or accidental. Too many indicate, to say the least, a lack of +discretion. What a difference between these explanations, evasions, +excuses, denials, and the majestic manliness of Washington, who never +did or wrote or said anything which he hesitated to avow openly and +without qualification!</p> + +<p>Another dissimilarity between these two worth heeding, is Jefferson's +want of that thrift which produces indepen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>dence, comfort, and +self-respect. He lived beyond his means, and died literally a beggar.</p> + +<p>Jefferson was deficient in that happy combination of courage, energy, +judgment, and probity, which mankind call character, for want of a more +distinctive word—but which, in fact, in its highest expression, is +genius on the moral side. It commands the respect of mankind more than +the most brilliant faculties—and it accomplishes more. We have only to +look at Washington's life to see what can be done by it.</p> + +<p>When Governor of Virginia during the Revolutionary War, Jefferson showed +a want of spirit and of action; the same deficiency was more painfully +conspicuous in his dealings with the Barbary pirates and in the affair +of the Leopard and Chesapeake. The insults and spoliations of the +English and French under the orders in council and the Berlin and Milan +decrees were borne with equal meekness. He was for peace at all hazards, +and economy at any price. When at last he found he had exhausted his +favorite method, and that neither 'time, reason, justice, nor a truer +sense of their own interests' produced any effect upon the obstinate +aggressors, he could desire no better means of checking their +depredations upon our trade than to order our merchants to lay up their +ships and shut up their shops. It was a Japanese stroke of policy—to +revenge an insult by disembowelling oneself—hari kari applied to a +nation.</p> + +<p>His was indeed a brilliant theory of government, if we take him at his +word. At home, freedom was to be invigorated by occasional rebellions, +not to be put down too sharply, for fear of discouraging the people—the +tree of liberty was to be watered with blood. Abroad, custom-house +regulations would keep the peace of the seas. Embargo and +non-intercourse must bring France and England to their good behavior.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jefferson had his political panacea: all disorders would infallibly +be cured by it. He puffed it in his journals and extolled its virtues in +his state papers. He congratulated his countrymen upon his election; he +called it the revolution of 1800. Now at length they could try the +panacea. What wonders did it work? The Federalists can point to the +results of their twelve years of power: credit created out of +bankruptcy; prosperity out of union; a great nation made out of thirteen +small ones—an achievement far beyond that Themistocles could boast of. +Jefferson added the Louisiana Territory to the Union; but this, the only +solid result of his Administration, was totally inconsistent with his +principles. Did he render any other service to the country? We know of +none. His 'Quaker' theories and 'terrapin' policy increased the contempt +of our enemies, cost the nation millions of money to no purpose, and +made the war of 1812 inevitable.</p> + +<p>No one can deny that Jefferson was a monster of party tactics and +strategy. He knew well how to get up a cry, to excite the <i>odium +vulgare</i> against his antagonists, to play skilfully upon the class +feeling of poor against rich, and to turn to profit every popular +weakness and meanness. He drilled and organized his followers, and led +them well disciplined to victory. But on the grander field of +statesmanship he was wanting. He was what Bonaparte called an +ideologist. A principle, however true, may fail in its application, +because other principles, equally true, may then come into action and +vitiate the result. These collateral principles Jefferson never deigned +to consider. He had no conception of expediency, of which a wise +statesman never loses sight. Results he thought must be advantageous, +provided processes were according to his principles. His object appears +to have been rather a government after his theories than a good +government. And in this respect he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> is the type of the impracticable and +mischief-making class of reformers numerous in this country.</p> + +<p>Jefferson seems to have been unable to grasp the real political +character of the American people, the path they were destined to tread, +the shape their institutions must necessarily take. He was possessed +with the idea that liberty was in danger, and that the attempt was made +to change the republic into a monarchy, perhaps a despotism. This +delirious fancy beset him by day and was a terror by night. He was +haunted by the likeness of a kingly crown. Hamilton and Adams were +writing and planning to place it upon somebody's head. Federalist +senators, congressmen, Revolutionary soldiers, were transformed into +monarchists and Anglomen. Grave judges appeared to his distempered +vision in the guise of court lawyers and would-be ambassadors. The +Cincinnati lowered over the Constitution eternally. The Supreme Court of +the United States was the stronghold in which the principle of +tyrannical power, elsewhere only militant, was triumphant. Hamilton's +funding system was a scheme to corrupt the country. Even the stately +form of Washington rose before him in the shape of Samson shorn by the +harlot England. Strange as it may seem, Jefferson persisted in his +delusion to the end. A man in his position ought to have seen that in +spite of the old connection with the British crown, the States were and +always had been essentially republican in feelings, manners, and forms. +Nowhere in the world had local self-government been carried to such +extent and perfection. To build up a monarchy out of the thirteen +colonies was impracticable. Washington, more clear sighted, said that +any government but a republic was impossible: there were not ten men in +the United States whose opinions were worth attention who entertained +the thought of a monarchy. In his judgment the danger lay in the other +direction. The weakness of the Government, not its strength, might lead +to despotism through license and anarchy. He desired to keep the rising +tide of democracy within bounds by every legitimate barrier that could +be erected, lest it should overflow the country and sweep away all +government. Jefferson was for throwing open the floodgates to admit it. +He thought himself justified in combating the monarchists of his +hallucinations by every means, however illegal and unconstitutional. +Washington warned him and his followers that they were 'systematically +pursuing measures which must eventually dissolve the Union or produce +coercion.' Jefferson, deaf to the admonition, pressed on, and, like +Diomede at the siege of Troy, wounded a divinity when he thought he was +contending only with fellow men. With his Kentucky Resolutions he gave +the first stab to the Union and the Constitution. What were Burr's +childish schemes, which would have fallen to the ground from their own +weakness, compared with that? From Jefferson through Calhoun to +Jefferson Davis the diabolic succession of conspirators is complete.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ENGLISH_PRESS" id="THE_ENGLISH_PRESS"></a>THE ENGLISH PRESS.</h2> + +<h3>II.</h3> + + +<p>It has become the fashion to sneer at the Long Parliament: but for all +this it cannot be denied that that assemblage rendered services of +incalculable importance to the state. Extreme old age forms at all times +an object of pity, and, with the thoughtless and inconsiderate, it is +but too often an object of ridicule and contempt. Many a great man has, +ere now, survived to reach this sad stage in his career; but it does not +therefore follow that the glorious deeds of his prime are to be ignored +or forgotten. As it has been with the distinguished warrior or statesman +or author, so it is with the Long Parliament. England owes it a great +debt of gratitude on many accounts, but the one with which we have more +especially to do on the present occasion is, that with it originated the +custom of making public proceedings in Parliament. By this act was the +supremacy of the people over the Parliament acknowledged, for the very +publication of its transactions was an appeal to the people for approval +and support. This printed record of parliamentary affairs came out in +1641, and was entitled <i>The Diurnal Occurrences, or Daily Proceedings of +both Houses in this great and happy Parliament, from the 3d of November, +1640, to the 3d of November, 1641.</i> The speeches delivered from the +first date down to the following June were also published in two +volumes, and in 1642 weekly instalments appeared under various titles, +such as <i>The Heads of all the Proceedings of both Houses of +Parliament—Account of Proceedings of both Houses of Parliament—A +perfect Diurnal of the Passages in Parliament</i>, etc., etc. There was no +reporter's gallery in those days, and the Parliament only printed <i>what +they pleased</i>; still this was a step in the right direction. After +Parliaments occasionally evinced bitter hostility toward the press, but +that which boasted Sawyer Lenthal for its speaker was its friend (at all +events, at first, though afterward, as we shall notice by and by, it +displayed some animosity against its early <i>protegé</i>), and from this +meagre beginning took its rise that which is beyond doubt one of the +most important domestic functions of the press at the present day.</p> + +<p>The abolition of the great bugbear and tyrant of printers—that infamous +mockery of a legal tribunal, the Star Chamber—was another gigantic +obstacle cleared away from the path of journalism. The <i>Newes Bookes</i>, +which, in spite of all difficulties, had already become abundant, now +issued forth in swarms. They treated <i>de rebus omnibus et quibusdam +aliis</i>. Most of them were political or polemical pamphlets, and boasted +extraordinary titles. There is a splendid collection of these in the +British Museum, collected by the Rev. W. Thomason, and presented to the +nation by King George III. We will mention a few of them. A +controversial religious tract rejoices in the title of <i>A fresh bit of +Mutton for those fleshy-minded Cannibals that cannot endure Pottage.</i> A +political skit upon Prince Rupert is styled <i>An exact Description of +Prince Rupert's malignant She-Monkey, a great Delinquent</i>, and has a +comical woodcut upon the title page of the animal, in a cap and +petticoat and with a sword by its side. This pamphlet is printed partly +in ordinary modern type and partly in black letter. Another pamphlet in +the form of dialogue is directed against the abuses of the laws, +especially at one of the infamous 'comptoirs' of the time. It is called +<i>Wonderfull Strange Newes from Wood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> Street Countor—yet not so Strange +as True, being proved by lamentable Experience, the relation of which</i></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Will make you laugh, 'twill make you cry;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Twill make you mad, 'twill make you try.'</span></p> + +<p>Another is <i>Newes, true Newes, laudable Newes, Citie Newes, Countrie +Newes, the World is Mad or it is a Mad World, my Masters, especially in +the Antipodes, these Things are come to passe</i>. This is a satirical +description of manners and customs on 'the other side of the world,' the +writer asserting that in those regions everything is the exact opposite +of what takes place among us, so that there beggars ride in carriages +and are highly esteemed, men of title are of no account, lawyers take no +fees, and bailiffs decline to arrest debtors, etc., etc. There is also a +very quaint woodcut of the world and the heavens, the four winds, etc., +with an astrologer and other persons looking at them. Very many of these +pamphlets are actual relations of occurrences in different parts of the +kingdom and in foreign countries. Thus we find, <i>Victorious Newes from +Waterford</i>; <i>The joyfullest Newes from Hull that ever came to London of +the Proceedings of the Earl of Warwick's Shipps</i>; <i>The best and happiest +Newes from Ireland, from the Army before Kildare</i>; <i>Newes from +Blackheath concerning the Meeting of the Kentish Men</i>; <i>Exceedingly +joyfull Newes from Holland</i>; <i>The best Newes that ever was Printed</i>, +consists of, 1. <i>Prince Rupert's Resolution to bee gone to his Mother, +who hath sent for him</i>; 2. <i>His Majestie's royall Intentions declared to +joyne with the Parliament in a treaty of Peace</i>; 3. <i>The Particulars of +the High Court of Parliament drawn up to be sent to his Majesty for +Peace</i>; 4. <i>Directions from the Lords and Commons directed to the +Commanders for the ordering of the Army.</i> One <i>quaint</i> title presents a +very odd association: <i>Newes from Hell and Rome and the Innes of Court</i>. +The contending parties appear to have suited their titles to the +substance of the <i>Newes</i> they chronicled accordingly as it affected +their interests. Thus, while many pamphlets bore the titles of +<i>Glorious</i>, <i>Joyful</i>, <i>Victorious</i>, etc., others were dubbed <i>Horrible +Newes</i>, <i>Terrible News</i>, and so forth. By far the greater number of +these were issued by the partisans of the Parliament; but the Royalists +were by no means idle, and the king carried about a travelling printing +press, as is evidenced by several proclamations, manifestoes, etc., +issued at Oxford, Worcester, York, and other places, sometimes in +ordinary type, sometimes in black letter, by 'Robert Barker, his +Majestie's Printer.' All the emanations of the press were not, however, +mere isolated pamphlets, but there was a large crop of periodicals, such +as <i>The Kingdom's Weekly Intelligencer</i>—<i>The Royal Diurnall</i>, etc. +About this time the name <i>Mercurius</i> began to be very freely adopted for +these periodicals. It had been already, for a long time, assumed as a +<i>nom de plume</i> by writers and printers, but the title was now assigned +to the publications themselves. One of the earliest of these was +<i>Mercurius Aulicus</i>, a scurrilous print in the interest of the +court party—as its name imports—which first appeared in 1642. Others +were entitled respectively <i>Mercurius Britannicus</i>—<i>Mercurius +Anti-Britannicus</i>—<i>Mercurius Fumigosus, a Smoaking +Nocturnal</i>—<i>Mercurius Pragmaticus</i>—<i>Mercurius +Anti-Pragmaticus</i>—<i>Mercurius Mercuriorum Stultissimus</i>—<i>Mercurius +Insanus Insanissimus</i>—<i>Mercurius Diabolicus</i>—<i>Mercurius Mastix, +faithfully lashing all Scouts, Mercuries, Posts, Spyes, and +others</i>—<i>Mercurius Radamanthus, the Chief Judge of Hell, his Circuits +through all the Courts of Law in England</i>, etc., etc. Other newspapers +bore such quaint titles as the following: <i>The Dutch Spye</i>—<i>The Scots +Dove</i>—<i>The Parliament Kite</i>—<i>The Secret Owle</i>—<i>The Parliament Screech +Owle</i>, and other ornithological monstrosities. Party spirit ran high, +and the contending scribes carried on a most foul and savage warfare, +and demolished their adversaries, both political and literary, without +the slight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>est compunction or mercy. Some of these brochures were solely +directed against the utterances of one particular rival scribe, as is +shown by one or two of the titles above quoted. Doctor Johnson says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'When any title grew popular, it was stolen by the antagonist, who +by this stratagem conveyed his notions to those who would not have +received him had he not worn the appearance of a friend.'</p></div> + +<p>According to Mr. Nichols' the printer's list, there were no less than +three hundred and fifty of these <i>Mercuries</i> and <i>Newes Bookes</i> +published between 1642 and 1665, a list that would no doubt be largely +swollen could the titles of all that have perished and left no trace +behind be ascertained. These <i>Mercuries</i> appeared at different +intervals, but none oftener than three times a week, and their price was +generally one penny, but sometimes twopence.</p> + +<p>Many of the writers were nothing but venal hirelings, and changed sides +readily enough when their own private interests seemed to render it +desirable. One of the most famous—or infamous, according to Anthony à +Wood, who describes him as 'a most seditious, mutable, and railing +writer, siding with the rout and scum of the people, making them weekly +sport by railing at all that was noble,' etc.—was Marchmont Nedham. In +1643 he brought out the <i>Mercurius Britannicus</i>, one of the ablest +periodicals on the Parliamentary side, whatever honest old Anthony may +say to the contrary. But, being imprisoned for libel, he thought it best +to change his politics, and for two years appeared as an ultra-virulent +Royalist partisan in the <i>Mercurius Pragmaticus</i>. After the execution of +Charles the First, however, he returned to his old party, and advocated +their cause in the <i>Mercurius Politicus</i>, which purported to be +published 'in defence of the commonwealth and for information of the +people.' After some years he fell into temporary disgrace, but was soon +received again into favor by the House of Commons, which passed a vote +in August, 1659, 'that Marchmont Nedham, gentleman, be and hereby is +restored to be writer of the <i>Publick Intelligence</i> as formerly.' At the +Restoration he was discharged from his office, but contrived to make his +peace with the party in power, and, true to his instincts, changed his +political creed once more for that of the winning side, but without +succeeding in being reinstated in his old post. The other most +noteworthy writers of <i>Mercuries</i> were John Birkenhead, author of the +<i>Mercurius Aulicus</i>, Peter Heylin, Bruno Ryves—all parsons—and John +Taylor, the Water Poet, author of the <i>Mercurius Aquaticus</i>.</p> + +<p>Nothing was too great or too small for the writers of these <i>Mercuries</i>, +nothing too exalted or too mean. Nothing was sacred in their eyes; the +most private affairs were dragged into the political arena, and family +and domestic matters, that had nothing whatever to do with public life, +were paraded before the world. Bitter personalities and invective seem +to be inseparable concomitants of the early stage of journalism in all +countries. This was the case in France and Germany; it is the case in +Russia at the present day. That it was the case in America, let the +following extract from Franklin's private correspondence testify:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'The inconsistency that strikes me the most is that between the +name of your city, Philadelphia, and the spirit of rancor, malice, +and hatred that breathes in the newspapers. For I learn from those +papers that State is divided into parties, that each party ascribes +all the public operations of the other to vicious motives, that +they do not even suspect one another of the smallest degree of +honesty, that the anti-Federalists are such merely from the fear of +losing power, places, or emoluments, which they have in possession +or expectation; that the Federalists are a set of conspirators, who +aim at establishing a tyranny over the persons and property of +their countrymen and who live in splendor on the plunder of the +people. I learn, too,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> that your justices of the peace, though +chosen by their neighbors, make a villanous trade of their offices, +and promote discord to augment fees, and fleece their electors; and +that this would not be mended were the choice in the Executive +Council, who, with interested or party aims, are continually making +as improper appointments, witness a 'petty fiddler, sycophant, and +scoundrel' appointed judge of the admiralty, an 'old woman and +fomentor of sedition' to be another of the judges, and 'a Jeffreys' +chief justice, etc., etc., with 'harpies,' the comptroller and +naval officers, to prey upon the merchants, and deprive them of +their property by force of arms, etc. I am informed, also, by these +papers, that your General Assembly, though the annual choice of the +people, shows no regard to their rights, but from sinister views or +ignorance makes laws in direct violation of the Constitution, to +divest the inhabitants of their property, and give it to strangers +and intruders, and that the Council, either fearing the resentment +of their constituents or plotting to enslave them, had projected to +disarm them, and given orders for that purpose; and, finally, that +your President, the unanimous joint choice of the Council and +Assembly, is 'an old rogue, who gave his assent to the Federal +Constitution merely to avoid refunding money he had purloined from +the United States.' There is, indeed, a good deal of man's +inconsistency in all this, and yet a stranger, seeing it in our own +prints, though he does not believe it all, may probably believe +enough of it to conclude that Pennsylvania is peopled by a set of +the most unprincipled, wicked, rascally, and quarrelsome scoundrels +upon the face of the globe. I have sometimes, indeed, suspected +that those papers are the manufacture of foreigners among you, who +write with the view of disgracing your country, and making you +appear contemptible and detestable all the world over; but then I +wonder at the indiscretion of your printers in publishing such +writings. There is, however, one of your inconsistencies that +consoles me a little, which is that though, living, you give one +another the character of devils, dead, you are all angels. It is +delightful, when any of you die, to read what good husbands, good +fathers, good friends, good citizens, and good Christians you were, +concluding with a scrap of poetry that places you with certainty in +heaven. So that I think Pennsylvania a good country to die in, +though a very bad one to live in.'</p></div> + +<p>These remarks, which Franklin makes with such powerful irony, might +apply with equal force to a similar period in the newspaper history of +any country, and most of all to that of England.</p> + +<p>The worst features, perhaps, of these writers of <i>Mercuries</i>, were the +readiness with which they apostatized, and the systematic and unblushing +manner in which they sold their pens to the highest bidder, and +prostituted the press to serve the purposes of their patrons. Mrs. +Hutchinson, in the memoirs of her husband, Colonel Hutchinson, gives a +curious instance of their venality:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Sir John Gell, of Derbyshire, kept the diurnall makers in pension, +soe that whatever was done in the neighboring counties against the +enemy, was attributed to him, and thus he hath indirectly purchased +himself a name in story which he never merited. That which made his +courage the more questioned was the care he tooke and the expense +he was att to get it weekly mentioned in the diurnalls, so that +when they had nothing else to renoune him for, they once put it +that the troops of that valiant commander Sir John Gell tooke a +dragoon with a plush doublet.... Mr. Hutchinson, on the other side, +that did well for virtue's sake, and not for the vaine glory of it, +never would give aniething to buy the flatteries of those +scribblers; and, when one of them once, while he was in towne, made +mention of something done at Nottingham, with falsehood, and had +given Gell the glory of an action in which he was not concerned, +Mr. Hutchinson rebuked him for it; whereupon the man begged his +pardon, and told him he would write as much for him the next weeke; +but Mr. Hutchinson told him he scorned his mercenary pen, and +warned him not to dare to be in any of his concernments; whereupon +the fellow was awed, and he had no more abuse of that kind.'</p></div> + +<p>The <i>Mercuries</i>, however, were not allowed to have everything their own +way without any interference on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> part of the powers that were. In +1647, Sir Thomas Fairfax called the attention of the House of Lords, by +letter, to the great number of unlicensed newspapers, with a view to +their suppression; but he adds, in mitigation of his attack:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'That the kingdom's expectation may be satisfied in relation to +intelligence till a firm peace be settled, considering the +mischiefs that will happen by the poisonous writings of evil men +sent abroad daily to abuse and deceive the people, that if the +House shall see it fit, some two or three sheets may be permitted +to come forth weekly, which may be licensed, and have some stamp of +authoritie with them, and in respect of the former licenser, Mr. +Mabbot, hath approved himself faithful in that service of +licensing, and likewise in the service of the House and of this +army, I humbly desire that he may be restored and continued in the +same place of licenser.'</p></div> + +<p>The result of this letter—which is remarkable, by the way, for its +mention of the licenser—was that the House of Lords issued an edict to +forbid any such publications except with the license of one or both +Houses of Parliament, and with the name of the author, printer, and +licenser attached. The penalties for any evasion of this enactment were, +for the writer, a fine of forty shillings or imprisonment for forty +days; for the printer, half that punishment, and the destruction of his +press and plant as well, and for the vendor a sound whipping and the +confiscation of his wares. A second instance of parliamentary +interference took place in the same year, when a committee was appointed +for the purpose of discovering and punishing every one connected with +the publication of certain <i>Mercuries</i>. The licensing system continued +in force, but was not made much use of, although the scurrilities of the +press roused the Parliament every now and then into spasmodic efforts of +repression. In addition to measures of this kind, Nedham's paper, from +its official character, was doubtless looked upon by the legislature as +a sort of antidote to the poison diffused by other journalists. This +came out twice a week, on Mondays under the name of <i>The Public +Intelligencer</i>, and on Thursdays under that of <i>Mercurius Politicus</i>. +When Nedham fell into disgrace at the Restoration, his paper was placed +by Parliament in other hands, and the Monday title changed to that of +<i>The Parliamentary Intelligencer</i>, though that of the Thursday's issue +remained unaltered. The powers of the licenser were now much more +strictly exercised, and the <i>Mercuries</i> gave up the ghost in shoals. In +1662 an act was passed 'for preventing the frequent abuses in printing +seditious, treasonable, and unlicensed books and pamphlets, and for +regulating of printing and printing presses.' It also divided the duties +of the licenser, and the supervision of newspapers passed into the hands +of the Secretary of State. Ireland was not slow to follow England's +example, for, in Lord Mountmorris's 'History of the Irish Parliament,' +mention is made in 1662 'of a very extraordinary question' which 'arose +about preventing the publication of the debates of the Irish Parliament +in an English newspaper called <i>The Intelligencer</i>, and a letter was +written from the Speaker to Sir Edward Nicholas, the English Secretary +of State, to prevent these publications in those diurnalls, as they call +them.' In 1661, <i>The Parliamentary Intelligencer</i> was turned into <i>The +Kingdom's Intelligencer</i>, and this last appellation was again changed +for that of <i>The Public Intelligencer</i> in 1663. The celebrated Roger +L'Estrange, who was then the public licenser, was the editor of this +paper, as also of an extra Thursday issue called <i>The News</i>. In the +first number of this old friend with a new face, he says, among other +pros and cons as to the desirability of a newspaper:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Supposing the press in order, the people in their right wits, and +news or no news to be the question, a public <i>Mercury</i> should never +have my vote,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> because I think it makes the multitude too familiar +with the actions and counsels of their superiors, too pragmatical +and censorious, and gives them not only an itch, but a kind of +colorable right and license.... A gazette is none of the worst ways +of address to the genius and humor of the common people, whose +affections are much more capable of being turned and wrought upon +by convenient hints and touches in the shape and air of a pamphlet +than by the strongest reason and best notions imaginable under any +other and more sober form whatsoever.... So that upon the main I +perceive the thing requisite (for aught I can see yet). Once a week +may do the business, for I intend to utter my news by weight, not +by measure. Yet if I shall find, when my hand is in, and after the +planting and securing of my correspondents, that the matter will +fairly furnish more, without either uncertainty, repetition, or +impertinence, I shall keep myself free to double at pleasure. One +book a week may be expected, however, to be published every +Thursday, and finished upon the Tuesday night, leaving Wednesday +entire for the printing of it.'</p></div> + +<p>The Newspaper was evidently developing itself—correspondents were a new +feature—but still it was very tardy and very far from being free. Fancy +a newspaper in the present day with no news more recent than that of the +day before yesterday! In 1663 the title of <i>Public Intelligencer</i> was +exchanged for that of <i>The Oxford Gazette</i>, so called because the court +had gone to Oxford on account of the plague. After the court's return to +the metropolis, <i>London</i> was substituted, in 1666, for <i>Oxford</i>, and +from that date to the present this, the first official or semi-official +organ, has gone by the name of <i>The London Gazette</i>. The king caused an +edition of it to be published in French, for the convenience, probably, +of his accommodating banker, Louis the Fourteenth, and this edition +continued to appear for about twenty years.</p> + +<p>Charles the Second was an unsparing and unscrupulous foe to the press, +and put in practice every possible form of oppression in order to crush +it. One's blood boils at the perusal of the persecutions to which the +struggling apostles of freedom of speech were subjected, so that the +contempt which this miserable 'king of shreds and patches' inspires in +other respects wellnigh changes into positive hatred. But despite of +fine and imprisonment, scourge and pillory, the press toiled on steadily +toward its glorious goal. The Newspaper began to assume—as far as its +contents were concerned—the appearance which it wears at the present +day. Straggling advertisements had long ago appeared, the first on +record being one offering a reward for the recovery of two horses that +had been stolen. This appeared in the first number of the <i>Impartial +Intelligencer</i>, in 1648. Booksellers and the proprietors of quack +medicines were among the earliest persons to discover the advantages of +advertising, and in 1657 came out the <i>Public Advertiser</i>, which +consisted almost entirely of advertisements. The following curious +notification appeared in the <i>Mercurius Politicus</i>, of September 30, +1658:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'That excellent and by all Physicians approved <i>China</i> Drink, +called by the <i>Chineans, Tcha</i>, by other Nations <i>Tay</i>, alias +<i>Tee</i>, is sold at the <i>Sultaness' Head Cophee House</i>, in +<i>Sweeting's</i> Rents, by the Royal Exchange, <i>London</i>.'</p></div> + +<p>The earliest illustrated paper is <i>Mercurius Civicus, London's +Intelligencer</i>, in 1643. The first commercial newspaper was a venture of +L'Estrange's in 1675, and was styled <i>The City Mercury, or +Advertisements concerning Trade</i>. The first literary paper issued from +the press in 1680, under the denomination of <i>Mercurius Librarius, or a +Faithful Account of all Books and Pamphlets</i>. The first sporting paper +was <i>The Jockey's Intelligencer, or Weekly Advertisements of Horses and +Second-hand Coaches to be Bought or Sold</i>, in 1683. The first medical +paper, <i>Observations on the Weekly Bill, from July 27 to August 3, with +Directions how to avoid the Dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> eases now prevalent</i>, came out in 1686; +and the first comic newspaper, <i>The Merrie Mercury</i>, in 1700. +Notwithstanding these 'first appearances on any stage,' there never was +a darker or more dismal period in the history of journalism. A great +number of newspapers had sprung up in consequence of the Popish Plot, +and the exclusion of the Duke of York—the respectable admiralty clerk +of Macaulay—from the throne; and with the intention of sweeping these +away, a royal 'proclamation for suppressing the printing and publishing +unlicensed news books and pamphlets of news' was put forth in 1680. +Vigorous action against recalcitrants followed, and with such pliant +tools as those perjured wretches, Scroggs and Jeffreys, for judge and +prosecutor, convictions and the 'extremest punishment of the law' became +a foregone conclusion. Doubtless there were many vile scribblers who +deserved to have the severest penalties inflicted upon them, but no +discrimination was used, and good and bad alike experienced the +vengeance of 'divine right.' The aim of the abandoned monarch and his +advisers was manifestly total extermination, and journalism appeared to +be at its last gasp. But though crushed and mutilated in every limb, and +bleeding at every pore, faint respirations every now and then showed +that the vital spark still lingered. But brighter days were at hand. +That festering mass of mental and bodily corruption which had once worn +a crown, was buried away out of the sight of indignant humanity, and the +vacillating James with feeble steps mounted the tottering throne. The +licensing act had expired in 1679, and had not been again renewed, for +there were no newspapers to license. Upon the alarm of Monmouth's +invasion, James renewed it temporarily for seven years. Journalism +reared its head again, and the court party, instead of persecuting, +found itself compelled to fawn and flatter and sue for its protection +and support. Newspapers, both native and imported from Holland in large +numbers, played an important part in the Revolution, and paved the way +for the downfall of the Stuarts and the advent of William and the +Protestant Succession.</p> + +<p>It must not be supposed that the capital had possessed a monopoly of +newspapers during all this period. Scotland appeared in the field with a +<i>Mercurius Politicus</i>, published at Leith in 1653. This, however, was +nothing but a reprint of a London news sheet, and probably owed its +existence to the presence of Cromwell's soldiers. In 1654 it removed to +Edinburgh, and in 1660 changed its denomination to <i>Mercurius Publicus</i>. +On the last day of this year, too, a journal of native growth budded +forth, with the title of <i>Mercurius Caledonius</i>. But the canny Scots +either could not or would not spare their bawbees for the encouragement +of such ephemeral literature, for Chalmers tells us that only ten +numbers of this publication appeared, and they were 'very loyal, very +illiterate, and very affected.' Dublin appears to have produced a +<i>Dublin News Letter</i> in 1685, but little is known about it, and its very +existence has been disputed. There were other sheets with Scotch and +Irish titles, but they were all printed in London. With 1688 a new era +dawned upon the press—the most promising it had yet seen—and +newspapers gradually sprang up all over the kingdom.</p> + +<p>The first that came out in the interests of the new Government were the +<i>Orange Intelligencer</i> and the <i>Orange Gazette</i>. The opponents of the +ministry also started organs of their own, and the paper warfare went +gayly on, but with more decency and courtesy than heretofore. William +did not show himself disposed to hamper the press in any way, but +Parliament, in 1694, proved its hostility by an ordinance 'that no +news-letter writers do, in their letters or other papers that they +disperse, presume to intermeddle with the debates<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> or other proceedings +of this House.' This was only a momentary ebullition of spleen. The +licensing act, which expired in 1692, had been renewed for one year, but +at the end of that period disappeared forever from English legislation. +The House of Lords—obstructive as usual to all real +progress—endeavored to revive it, but the Commons refused their +consent, and a second attempt in 1697 met with a like defeat. This +obstacle being happily got rid of, new journals of all kinds arose every +day. One was called <i>The Ladies' Mercury</i>; a second, <i>The London +Mercury</i>, <i>or</i> <i>Mercure de Londres</i>, and was printed in parallel English +and French columns. A third was entitled <i>Mercurios Reformatus</i>, and +was, during a portion of its existence, edited by the famous Bishop +Burnet. Some were half written and half printed. One of these, the +<i>Flying Post</i>, in 1695, says in its prospectus:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'If any gentleman has a mind to oblige his country friend or +correspondent with this account of public affairs, he may have it +for twopence of J. Salisbury, at the Rising Sun, in Cornhill, on a +sheet of fine paper, half of which being blank, he may thereon +write his own private business, or the material news of the day.'</p></div> + +<p>In 1696, Dawks's <i>News Letter</i> appeared, printed in a sort of running +type, to imitate handwriting, with the following quaint announcement:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'This letter will be done upon good writing paper, and blank space +left, that any gentleman may write his own private business. It +does, undoubtedly, exceed the best of the written news, contains +double the quantity, with abundant more ease and pleasure, and will +be useful to improve the younger sort in writing a curious hand.'</p></div> + +<p>Various authors, whose names will always find a lofty place in +literature, contributed to the newspapers of this epoch, and among them +we find those of South, Wesley, Sir William Temple, and Swift. The +advertisements by this time had become as varied as they are nowadays, +and were without doubt almost as important a part of the revenue of a +newspaper. An amusing proof of this is to be found in the <i>Collection +for the Improvement of Husbandry and Trade</i>, in which the editor +displays a lively interest in this department of his paper, by employing +the first person, thus: 'I want a cook maid for a merchant,' 'I want an +apprentice for a tallow chandler,' etc., etc. He also advertises that he +knows of several men and women who wish to find spouses, and he +undertakes match making in all honor and secrecy. He tells us that he +has a house for sale, and wishes to buy a shop, an estate, a complete +set of manuscript sermons, and a government situation. Other editors +bear witness to the character of their advertisers, and recommend +doctors, undertakers, waiting maids, footmen, and various tradesmen. +Some of the advertisements are very funny. 'I want a compleat young man +that will wear a livery, to wait on a very, valuable gentleman, but he +must know how to play on a violin or flute.' Was the 'very valuable +gentleman,' we wonder, troubled like Saul with an evil spirit, that +could be exorcised by music? Tastes certainly differ, for this +advertisement reminds us of a venerable old lady of our acquaintance, +who was kept in a chronic state of irritation by a favorite footman, +whom she did not choose to discharge, through his learning the flute and +persisting in practising 'Away with melancholy'—the only tune he +knew—for an hour daily! But to return to the advertisements. A +schoolmaster announces that he 'has had such success with boys, as there +are almost forty ministers and schoolmasters that were his scholars. His +wife also teaches girls lace making, plain work, raising paste, sauces, +and cookery to a degree of exactness'—departments of education which +are, unfortunately, too much lost sight of in modern 'Establishments for +Young Ladies,' 'His price is £10 to £11 the year; with a pair of sheets +and one spoon, to be returned if desired.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>During the whole reign of William there was not a single newspaper +prosecution, but there were many in that of 'the good Queen Anne.' Still +editors were obliged to be very careful in the wording of their items of +news, generally prefacing them with 'We hear,' 'It is said,' 'It is +reported,' 'They continue to say,' ''Tis believed,' and so on. Of the +chief newspapers of this period we get the following account from John +Dunton, who was joint proprietor with Samuel Wesley of the <i>Athenian +Mercury</i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'The <i>Observator</i> is best to towel the Jacks, the <i>Review</i> is best +to promote peace, the <i>Flying Post</i> is best for the Scotch news, +the <i>Postboy</i> is best for the English and Spanish news, the <i>Daily +Courant</i> is the best critic, the <i>English Post</i> is the best +collector, the <i>London Gazette</i> has the best authority, and the +<i>Postman</i> is the best for everything.'</p></div> + +<p>The <i>Daily Courant</i>, which was the first daily newspaper, first appeared +on the 11th of March, 1702. It was but a puny affair of two columns, +printed on one side of the sheet only, and consisted, like most of the +journals of the time, mainly of foreign intelligence. It lasted until +1735, when it was merged in the <i>Daily Gazetteer</i>. In spite of +prosecutions for libel, the press throve, and, perhaps, to a certain +extent, on that very account greatly improved in character. Addison, +Steele, Bolingbroke, Manwaring, Prior, Swift, Defoe, and other +celebrities became editors or contributors, and a battle royal was waged +among them in the <i>Examiner</i>, the <i>Whig Examiner</i>, the <i>Observator</i>, the +<i>Postboy</i>, the <i>Review</i>, the <i>Medley</i>, and other papers of less note.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile newspapers began to appear in the provinces. The earliest was +the <i>Stamford Mercury</i>—a title preserved to the present day—which came +out in 1695. Norwich started a journal of its own, the <i>Norwich +Postman</i>, in 1706, the price of which the proprietors stated to be 'one +penny, but a half penny not refused.' The <i>Worcester Postman</i> made its +bow in 1708, and Berrow's <i>Worcester Journal</i>—which still exists—in +1709. Newcastle followed suite with its <i>Courant</i>, in 1711, and +Liverpool with its <i>Courant</i> in 1712. The other large towns did the same +at less or greater intervals, and of the provincial journals which were +born in the first half of the eighteenth century about a score still +flourish. The <i>Edinburgh Gazette</i> came cut in 1699, as appears from the +following quaint document, which has been republished by the Maitland +Club at the 'modern Athens':</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Anent the petition given to the Lords of his Majestie's Privy +Councill by James Donaldson, merchant in Edinburgh, shewing 'that +the petitioner doth humbly conceive the publishing ane gazette in +this place, containeing ane abridgement of fforaigne newes together +with the occurrences at home, may be both usefull and satisfieing +to the leidges, and actually hath published on or two to see how it +may be liked, and so farr as he could understand the project was +approven of by very many, and, therefore, humbly supplicating the +said Lords to the effect after mentioned;' the Lords of his +Majestie's Privy Councill, having considered this petition given in +to them by the above James Donaldsone, they doe hereby grant full +warrant and authority to the petitioner for publishing the above +gazette, and discharges any other persones whatsoever to pen or +publish the like under the penaltie of forfaulting all the coppies +to the petitioner, and farder payment to him of the soume of ane +hundred pounds Scots money, by and altour the forsaid confiscatioun +and forfaulture; and recommends to the Lord High Chancellor to +nominat and appoint a particular persone to be supervisor of the +said gazetts before they be exposed to public view, printed, or +sold.'</p></div> + +<p>In 1705 a rival started up in the <i>Edinburgh Courant</i>, which was +published three times a week. About the same time appeared the <i>Scots +Courant</i>, in 1708 the <i>Edinburgh Flying Post</i>, and in the following year +the <i>Scots Postman</i>, the two last being tri-weekily. In 1718 there +dawned upon the literary horizon the <i>Edinburgh Evening Courant</i>, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +still continues. It was published <i>cum privilegio</i> on condition that the +proprietor 'should give ane coppie of his print to the magistrates.' +With regard to Ireland, it is a curious fact that Dublin took the lead +of London in establishing a daily paper, for <i>Pue's Occurrences</i> first +issued in 1700, and survived for more than fifty years. But this effort +appears to have exhausted the newspaper energies of the sister isle, for +we have no record of any other journal during a quarter of a century.</p> + +<p>Contemporary with its extension to the provinces, newspaper enterprise +was penetrating into the colonies, and America took the lead. Small were +the beginnings in the land where the freedom of the press was destined +to attain its fullest development. America's first journal—the <i>Boston +News Letter</i>—was printed at Boston in 1704, and survived to the limit +assigned by the Psalmist to the age of man. In 1719 appeared the <i>Boston +Gazette</i>, and in the same year the <i>American Weekly Miscellany</i>, at +Philadelphia. In 1721 appeared James Franklin's paper, the <i>New England +Courant</i>, and in 1728 the <i>New York Journal</i>. In 1733 John P. Tenzer +brought out the <i>New York Weekly Journal</i>, a paper which was so ably +conducted in opposition to the Government, that in the following year a +prosecution, or rather persecution, was determined upon. Andrew Hamilton +was Tenzer's counsel, and the temptation to quote a passage from the +peroration of his speech for the defence is irresistible:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'The question which is argued before you this day is not only the +cause of a poor printer, nor yet even of the colony of New York +alone: it is the best of causes—the cause of liberty. Every man +who prefers freedom to a life of slavery will bless and honor in +you the men whose verdict will have secured to us upon a firm +basis—to us, to our posterity, to our neighbors, that right which +both nature and the honor of our country gives us, the liberty of +freely speaking and writing the truth.'</p></div> + +<p>What could the jury do, after these burning words, but acquit the +prisoner? They did acquit him, and from this famous trial dates, +according to Gouverneur Morris, the dawn of the American Revolution, +which myriads of Englishmen, whatever may be thought or said to the +contrary by persons who wish to raise bad blood between two mighty +countries, delight to acknowledge as glorious. But the progress of the +press in America was slow under British rule, for in 1775 there were +only thirty-six journals in the various States altogether. The West +India islands soon began to establish papers of their own, and Barbadoes +led the way in 1731 with the <i>Barbadoes Gazette</i>. Yet the development of +journalism in other British colonies belongs to a later period of +history.</p> + +<p>To return to England. A heavy blow was impending over the fourth estate. +In 1712 a tax, in the shape of a half-penny stamp, was levied upon each +newspaper. The reason alleged for this measure was that political +pamphlets had so increased in number and virulence that the queen had +called the attention of Parliament to them, and had recommended it to +find a remedy equal to the mischief, and, in one of her messages, had +complained that 'by seditious papers and factious rumors, designing men +have been able to sink credit, and that the innocent have to suffer.' An +act was accordingly passed by which every printer was obliged to lodge +one copy of each number of his paper, within six days of its +publication, with a collector appointed for the purpose, and at the same +time to state the number of sheets, etc., under a penalty of £20 for +default. Country printers were allowed fourteen days instead of six. +This act, as may easily be imagined, spread confusion and dismay in all +directions. Half-penny and farthing newspapers fell at once before the +fierce onslaught of the red oppressor—a vegetable monstrosity, having +the rose, shamrock, and thistle growing on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> a single stalk, surmounted +by the royal crown. All the less important and second-rate journals +withered away before the deadly breath of the new edict, and a few only +of the best were enabled to continue by raising their price. Addison, in +the 445th number of the <i>Spectator</i>, July 31st, 1712, alludes to this +new tax as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'This is the day on which many eminent authors will probably +publish their last words. I am afraid that few of our weekly +historians, who are men that, above all others, delight in war, +will be able to subsist under the weight of a stamp and an +approaching peace. A sheet of blank paper that must have this new +imprimatur clapped upon it before it is qualified to communicate +anything to the public, will make its way but very heavily.... A +facetious friend, who loves a pun, calls this present mortality +among authors 'the fall of the leaf.' I remember upon Mr. Baxter's +death there was published a sheet of very good sayings, inscribed: +'The last words of Mr. Baxter.' The title sold so great a number of +these papers, that, about a week after these, came out a second +sheet, inscribed: 'More last words of Mr. Baxter.' In the same +manner I have reason to think that several ingenious writers who +have taken their leave of the public in farewell papers, will not +give over so, but intend to appear, though perhaps under another +form, and with a different title.'</p></div> + +<p>This prediction of Addison's was verified, for, after the first year, +the act was allowed to fall into abeyance, and the scribblers raised +their heads once more, and endeavored, by extra diligence and industry, +to make up for their past discomfiture and enforced silence.</p> + +<p>Of the essay papers, as they are called, the <i>Tatler</i> is the only one +which properly comes within the scope of this article, as being, to a +certain extent, a newspaper. Addison wrote in the <i>Freeholder</i>, and +Steele in the <i>Englishman</i>, both being political journals opposed to the +Government. For certain articles in this last, which were declared to be +libellous, and for a pamphlet, entitled <i>The Crisis</i>, which he published +about the same time, poor 'little Dicky, whose trade it was,' according +to his quondam friend Addison, 'to write pamphlets,' was expelled the +House of Commons, despite the support of several influential members, +and the famous declaration of Walpole, who was not then the unscrupulous +minister he afterward became, 'The liberty of the press is unrestrained; +how then shall a part of the legislature dare to punish that as a crime +which is not declared to be so by any law framed by the whole? And why +should that House be made the instrument of such a detestable purpose?'</p> + +<p>The newspaper writers had now reached a great pitch of power, and had +become formidable to the Government. Prosecutions therefore multiplied; +but not without reason in many cases. Addison complains over and over +again of the misdirection of their influence, and says, among other +things:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Their papers, filled with different party spirit, divide the +people into different sentiments, who generally consider rather the +principles than the truth of the news writers.'</p></div> + +<p>At no time, probably, in the history of journalism did party feeling run +higher than at this period. New organs sprang up every day, but were, +for the most part, very short lived. Among the papers of most note were +<i>The Weekly Journal</i>, Mist's <i>Weekly Journal</i>, the <i>London Journal</i>, +<i>The Free Briton</i>, and the <i>Weekly Gazetteer</i>. Mist was especially a +stout opponent of the Government, and was consequently always in +trouble. In 1724 there were printed nineteen first-class journals, of +which three were daily, ten tri-weekly—three of them 'half-penny +<i>Posts</i>'—and six weekly. News was abundant, and the old plan of leaving +blank spaces or filling up with passages of Scripture—an editor +actually reproduced from week to week the first two books of the +Pentateuch—was now abandoned. In 1726 appeared the <i>Public +Advertiser</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> afterward called the <i>London Daily Advertiser</i>, which +deserves to be remembered as having been the medium through which the +letters of Junius were originally given to the world. In the same year, +too, was started <i>The Craftsman</i>, one of the ablest political papers +which London had yet seen, and of which Bolingbroke was joint editor. It +was immediately successful, and its circulation soon reached ten or +twelve thousand. In 1731 a great novelty came out, the <i>Gentleman's +Magazine</i>, or <i>Monthly Intelligencer</i>, under the proprietorship of +Edward Cave, the printer. The title page contained a woodcut of St. +John's Gate, Clerkenwell, which had been in olden times the entrance +gateway to the hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, but was then the +abiding place of Cave's printing press, and upon either side of the +engraving was a list of the titles of metropolitan and provincial +newspapers. The contents, as announced on the same title page, were: 1. +Essays, controversial, humorous and satirical, religious, moral, and +political, collected chiefly from the public papers; 2. Select pieces of +poetry; 3. A succinct account of the most remarkable transactions and +events, foreign and domestic; 4. Marriages and deaths, promotions and +bankruptcies; 5. The prices of goods and stocks, and bills of mortality; +6. A register of barks; 7. Observations on gardening. The prospectus +states:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Our present undertaking, in the first place, is to give monthly a +view of all the pieces of wit, humor, or intelligence daily offered +to the public in the newspapers, which of late are so multiplied as +to render it impossible, unless a man makes it his business, to +consult them all; and in the next place, we shall join therewith +some other matters of use or amusement that will be communicated to +us. Upon calculating the number of newspapers, 'tis found that +(besides divers written accounts) no less than two hundred half +sheets <i>per mensem</i> are thrown from the press only in London, and +about as many printed elsewhere in the three kingdoms, a +considerable part of which constantly exhibit essays on various +subjects for entertainment, and all the rest occasionally oblige +their readers with matter of public concern, communicated to the +world by persons of capacity, through their means, so that they are +become the chief channels of amusement and intelligence. But then, +being only loose papers, uncertainly scattered about, it often +happens that many things deserving attention contained in them are +only seen by accident, and others not sufficiently published or +preserved for universal benefit or information.'</p></div> + +<p>The <i>Magazine</i> sets to work upon its self-imposed task by giving a +summary of the most important articles during the preceding month in the +principal London journals, of the ability, scope, and spirit of which we +thus obtain a very fair notion. The <i>Craftsman</i> has the precedence, and +among articles quoted from it are a historical essay upon Queen Bess, +and 'her wisdom in maintaining her prerogative;' a violent political +article full of personalities, a complaint of the treatment of the +<i>Craftsman</i> by rival journals, and an essay upon the liberty of the +press. The summary of the <i>London Journal</i> seems to show that it was +continually occupied in controverting the views and arguments of the +<i>Craftsman</i>. <i>Fog's Journal</i> is employed in making war upon the <i>London +Journal</i> and the <i>Free Briton</i>. The following specimen does not say much +for Mr. Fog's satirical powers:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'One Caleb D'Anvers' (Nicholas Amherst, of the Craftsman), 'and, if +I mistake not, one Fog, are accused of seditiously asserting that a +crow is black; but the writers on the other side have, with +infinite wit, proved a black crow to be the whitest bird of all the +feathered tribe.'</p></div> + +<p>These old newspapers give us curious glimpses of the manners of the +time. The <i>Grub-Street Journal</i> has an article upon 'an operation +designed to be performed upon one Ray, a condemned malefactor, by Mr. +Cheselden, so as to discover whether or no not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> only the drum but even +the whole organ be of any use at all in hearing.' The writer must have +been an ardent vivisector, for he concludes by a suggestion that 'all +malefactors should be kept for experiments instead of being hanged.' In +another number this periodical indulges in a criticism upon the new ode +of the poet laureate (Colley Cibber), in the course of which the writer +expresses an opinion that 'when a song is good sense, it must be made +nonsense before it is made music; so when a song is nonsense, there is +no other way but by singing it to make it seem tolerable sense'—a +criticism which, whether it were true of that period or no, may be +fairly said to apply with great force to the times in which we live. The +<i>Weekly Register</i> makes war upon the <i>Grub-Street Journal</i>, and, in a +satirical article upon the title of that newspaper, likens the writers +to caterpillars and grubs, etc., 'deriving their origin from Egyptian +locusts;' and, in another article, accuses them of 'having undertaken +the drudgery of invective under pretence of being champions of +politeness.' The other papers summarized are the <i>Free Briton</i>, a +violent opponent of the <i>Craftsman</i>, the <i>British Journal</i>, and the +<i>Universal Spectator</i>, the forte of the last two lying in essays and +criticisms.</p> + +<p>But the grand feature of the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i> was, that it was the +first to systematize parliamentary reporting. This was originally +managed by Cave and two or three others obtaining admission to the +strangers' gallery, and taking notes furtively of the speeches. These +notes were afterward compared, and from them and memory the speeches +were reproduced in print. Cave's reports continued for two years +unmolested, when the House of Commons endeavored to put an end to them. +A debate took place, in which all the speakers were agreed except Sir +William Wyndham, who expressed a timid dissent, as follows: 'I don't +know but what the people have a right to know what their representatives +are doing.' 'I don't know,' forsooth—the Government and the people must +have been a long way off then from a proper appreciation of the duties +of the one and the rights of the other! Sir Robert Walpole, the former +friend of the press—who, by the way, is said to have spent more than +£50,000 in bribes to venal scribblers in the course of ten years—had +completely changed his views, and had nothing then to say in its favor. +A resolution was passed which declared it breach of privilege to print +any of the debates, and announced the intention of the House to punish +with the utmost severity any offenders. Cave, however, was not easily +daunted, and, instead of publishing the speeches with the first and last +letters of the names of the speakers, he adopted this expedient: he +anagrammatized the names, and published the debates in what purported to +be 'An Appendix to Captain Lemuel Gulliver's Account of the Famous +Empire of Lilliput, giving the Debates in the Senate of Great Lilliput.' +This system was continued for nine years, but, after an interval, Cave +reverted to the old plan. He had always employed some writer or other of +known ability to write the speeches from his notes, and generally even +without any notes at all, so that the speeches were often purely +imaginary. In 1740 Dr. Johnson was employed for this purpose, and he, +according to his own confession, had been but once inside the walls of +the Parliament. Murphy tells the story and gives the names of the +persons who were present when he made the avowal. It occurred thus: A +certain speech of Pitt's, which had appeared in the <i>Gentleman's +Magazine</i>, was being highly praised by the company, when Johnson +startled every one by saying: 'That speech I wrote in a garret in Exeter +street.' He then proceeded to give an account of the manner in which the +whole affair used to be managed—this happened many years after his +connection with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> matter had ceased—and the assembly 'lavished +encomiums' upon him, especially for his impartiality, inasmuch as he +'dealt out reason and eloquence with an equal hand to both parties.' +Johnson replied: 'That is not quite true: I saved appearances tolerably +well, but I took care that the Whig dogs should not have the best of +it.' These speeches were long received by the world as verbatim reports, +and Voltaire is said to have exclaimed, on reading some of them: 'The +eloquence of Greece and Rome is revived in the British Senate.' Johnson, +finding they were so received, felt some prickings of conscience, and +discontinued their manufacture. When upon his deathbed, he said that +'the only part of his writings that gave him any compunction was his +account of the debates in the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i>, but that at the +time he wrote them he did not think he was imposing upon the world.' +Several attempts had been made to checkmate Cave, and in 1747 he was +summoned before the House of Lords, reprimanded, and fined, but finally +discharged upon begging pardon of the House, and promising never to +offend again. However, in 1752, he resumed the publication of the +debates, with this prefatory statement, a statement which must be taken +<i>cum grano</i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'The following heads of speeches in the H—— of C—— were given +me by a gentleman, who is of opinion that members of Parliament are +accountable to their constituents for what they say as well as what +they do in their legislative capacity; that no honest man, who is +entrusted with the liberties and purses of the people, will ever be +unwilling to have his whole conduct laid before those who so +entrusted him, without disguise; that if every gentleman acted upon +this just, this honorable, this constitutional principle, the +electors themselves only would be to blame if they reflected a +person guilty of a breach of so important a trust.'</p></div> + +<p>Cave continued his reports in a very condensed form until he died, in +1754, and left his system as a legacy to his successors and imitators. +He was the father of parliamentary reporting, and it is for this reason +more especially that his name deserves to be remembered with gratitude +by all well wishers to the freedom of the press, which is the liberty of +mankind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TREASURY_REPORT_AND_MR_SECRETARY_CHASE" id="THE_TREASURY_REPORT_AND_MR_SECRETARY_CHASE"></a>THE TREASURY REPORT AND<br />MR. SECRETARY CHASE.</h2> + + +<p>The military condition at the present time is highly encouraging; but +our armies have not always been successful in the field, and many of our +campaigns have ended either in disaster or without decisive results. The +navy, though it has achieved much in some quarters, has not altogether +answered to the reasonable expectations of the country or to the vast +sums which have been expended to make it powerful and efficient. Our +foreign relations, during the war, have sometimes assumed a threatening +aspect, and, it must be confessed, have not always been managed with the +skill and firmness due to our prominent position among the nations of +the world. But there is at least one department of the Government whose +general operations during all these vicissitudes have been the subject +of just pride to the American people. In the midst of great +difficulties, sufficient to appal and disconcert any ordinary mind, our +stupendous fiscal affairs have been conducted with unrivalled firmness, +ability, and success. All our military and naval operations, and indeed +our whole national strength at home and abroad, have necessarily been in +a large degree contingent upon the public credit, and this has remained +solid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> and unmoved except to gain strength, in spite of all the +disasters of the war on the land and on the water. The recent annual +report of Mr. Chase, though chiefly confined to a simple statement of +facts and figures, is like the account of some great victorious +campaign, submitted by the unassuming officer who conducted it. The +achievements of the Treasury are in fact the greatest of all our +victories; they underlie and sustain the prowess of our armies, while +they signalize the confidence and the patriotism of our whole people. +Without them the peril of the Union would have been infinitely enhanced, +and perhaps it would have been wholly impossible to conquer the +rebellion. There was a narrow and difficult path to tread in order to +avoid national bankruptcy; it was necessary within three years to raise +fifteen hundred millions of dollars, and a single false step might have +doubled or trebled the amount even of that enormous demand. How often +has intelligent patriotism trembled to think that the failure of our +finances would involve the probable futility of our sacred war for the +Union, with all its tremendous sacrifices of life and property!</p> + +<p>Nobly have the people sustained their Government; with a wise instinct +of confidence, they have freely risked their money, as their lives, in +support of their own holy cause. This confidence at home has given us +unbounded strength abroad. Nor do the facts in the least diminish the +credit fairly due to the Secretary, whose great merit is to have +organized a system so well calculated to attract the confidence of the +people and to inspire them with a sense of perfect security in trusting +their fortunes to the keeping of the nation for its help and support in +the hour of supreme peril. It is the highest evidence of wise +statesmanship to be able thus to arouse a nation to the cheerful +performance even of its obvious duty: this has been accomplished by Mr. +Chase, under the embarrassment of repeated failures on the part of those +who had in special charge to defend and promote our noble cause. The +entire merit of this grand success can only be adequately estimated by +considering how slight a mistake of judgment or want of faithful courage +in conducting these momentous affairs would have thrown our finances +into inextricable confusion. Our own experience immediately before the +war, when there was no adequate conception of the extent of the trouble +about to come upon us, shows how easily the public credit may be shaken +or destroyed by incompetent or dishonest agents. In spite of envious +detraction and interested opposition, these great and successful labors +of the Secretary will remain an imperishable monument of his ability to +conduct the most intricate affairs of government, in times of the most +appalling danger and difficulty. He has undergone the severest tests to +which a statesman was ever subjected; his genius and his great moral +firmness have brought him out triumphant.</p> + +<p>There are a few prominent points in the lucid report of the Secretary +which constitute the great landmarks of his system. Adequate taxation +was of necessity its basis; and, from the very beginning, Mr. Chase +insisted upon a rigid resort to every available means of raising a +revenue sufficient to strengthen the hands of the Government, and +sustain its credit through all the vast operations which it was +compelled to undertake. And now by reference to the actual figures, and +by an analysis of the facts embodied in them, the Secretary shows that +since the first year of the war, the taxes collected have paid all the +ordinary peace expenditures together with the interest on the whole +public debt, and beyond this have yielded a surplus which, had the war +ended, might have been applied to the reduction of the debt. This sound +and indispensable principle, beset with so many temptations and +difficulties in time of civil commotion, is the very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> soul of the public +credit; and the fearlessness with which the Secretary meets the +contingency of prolonged war and the necessity of additional taxes, +evinces his determination to strengthen and sustain the principle, +rather than to abandon it under any possible circumstances. The enormous +loans already so advantageously obtained, to say nothing of those +additional ones which will probably be indispensable, could not have +been negotiated on any reasonable terms without a firm adherence to this +policy.</p> + +<p>That part of Mr. Chase's financial system which is most questionable, +and which affords his assailants a fulcrum for their attacks, is its +interference with the State banks and with the currency which they have +been supplying to the country. The issuance of Treasury notes in the +form of a circulating medium, and with the qualities of a legal tender, +has revolutionized the whole currency and exchanges of the country, and +has given universal satisfaction to the people. But this popular +judgment is by no means an unerring test of the wisdom or safety of such +a measure. Its necessity, however, and its eminent success will forever +stamp it as an expedient of great usefulness and value, especially as +the Secretary has most judiciously arrested the system at that point +where its unquestionable advantages still outweigh its acknowledged +dangers and inconveniences. He informs us that these issues 'were wanted +to fill the vacuum caused by the disappearance of coin, and to supply +the additional demands created by the increased number and variety of +payments;' and he adds: 'Congress believed that four hundred millions +would suffice for these purposes, and therefore limited issues to that +sum. The Secretary proposes no change of this limitation and places no +reliance therefore on any increase of resources from increase of +circulation. Additional loans in this mode would indeed almost certainly +prove illusory; for diminished value could hardly fail to neutralize +increased amount.'</p> + +<p>In consequence of these issues, the average rate of interest on the +whole public debt on the 1st of July last, was only 3.77 per centum, and +on the 1st of October, 3.95 per centum.</p> + +<p>It was to be expected that the banks, which have heretofore had an +entire monopoly of the paper circulation, and of the large profits +derived from its legitimate use, as well as from its disastrous and +sometimes dishonest irregularities, would not very cordially receive the +system which is destined to supersede their present organization +entirely. The Secretary justly exults in the advantages of the sound and +uniform circulation which he has afforded in all parts of the country. +And as to the depreciation of the Treasury notes in comparison with +gold, he reasons, with great force and truth, that the greater part of +it is attributable to 'the large amount of bank notes yet in +circulation,' remarking at the same time, that 'were these notes +withdrawn from use, that much of the now very considerable difference +between coin and United States notes would disappear.' Whether this +belief of the Secretary be well founded or not, nothing can be more +certain than the superiority of the Treasury notes to those of the mass +of suspended banks, as they would have been after three years of the +present war. It is frightful to think of the condition to which the +currency would have been reduced at this time, if the Government had +been guilty of the folly of conducting its immense operations in the +suspended paper of irresponsible local banks. No one can doubt that the +Treasury notes have been of immense service to the nation in its hour of +trial; and if the limitation proposed by the Secretary shall be +faithfully maintained, there need not be the slightest fear of any +difficulty or discredit in the future. Upon the return of peace the +whole issue will be easily absorbed and redeemed, either by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> process +of funding, or more gradually in the ordinary transactions of the +Government.</p> + +<p>On a kindred subject, that of the high prices at present prevailing, let +Mr. Chase speak for himself. This statement is so direct and pertinent +that nothing could well be added. He says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'It is an error to suppose that the increase of prices is +attributable wholly or in very large measure to this circulation. +Had it been possible to borrow coin enough, and fast enough, for +the disbursements of the war, almost if not altogether the same +effects on prices would have been wrought. Such disbursements made +in coin would have enriched fortunate contractors, stimulated +lavish expenditures, and so inflated prices in the same way and +nearly to the same extent as when made in notes. Prices, too, would +have risen from other causes. The withdrawal from mechanical and +agricultural occupations of hundreds of thousands of our best, +strongest, and most active workers, in obedience to their country's +summons to the field, would, under any system of currency, have +increased the price of labor, and, by consequence, the price of the +products of labor,' &c.</p></div> + +<p>It is impossible to deny the force of this statement; and upon the whole +we must acknowledge that most of the evils which have been attributed to +the financial policy of the Government were inherent in the very nature +of the situation, and would have developed themselves, more or less, +under any system which could have been adopted. It is very obvious that +they might have been greatly aggravated by slight changes; but it is not +easy to see how they could have been more skilfully met and parried than +by the measures which have actually yielded such brilliant results.</p> + +<p>The most signal triumph of Mr. Chase's whole system of finance is to be +found in the truly marvellous success of his favorite five-twenty bonds. +Even at the present time the public enthusiasm for these securities +seems to be unabated, and it is more than probable that the whole amount +authorized to be issued will be taken up quite as rapidly as the bonds +can be prepared or as the money may be required.</p> + +<p>Not without good reason does the Secretary attribute the 'faith' thus +shown by the people 'in the securities of the Government,' to his +national banking law and the prospective establishment of a currency +'secured by a pledge of national bonds,' and destined at no distant day +to 'take the place of the heterogeneous corporate currency which has +hitherto filled the channels of circulation.' The idea of thus making +tributary to the Government in its present emergency the whole banking +capital of the country, or at least so much of it as may be employed in +furnishing a paper circulation for commercial transactions, was as bold +and magnificent as it has proved successful. Nothing less than the +national credit is sufficiently solid and enduring to be the basis of a +paper currency throughout the vast extent of our country. It is +eminently fit that this perfect solidarity of the central government +with those who furnish paper money for the people of every locality, +should be required and maintained on a proper basis. But the currency +thus provided is not liable to any of the objections properly urged +against a paper circulation issued by the Government itself; it is +issued by individuals or companies, and secured only by such national +stocks as have been created in the necessary operations of the nation +itself. The system does not constitute a national bank or banks in the +sense of that term as heretofore used in our history. It does nothing +more than assume that indispensable control over the long-neglected +currency of the country which is at once the privilege and the duty of +the National Government. It has authority to pronounce the supreme law +among all the States; and if there be any subject of legislation +requiring the unity to be derived from the exercise of such authority, +it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> is, above everything else, that common medium of exchange which +measures and regulates the countless daily commercial transactions of +our immense territory. The system involves no participation by the +Government in any banking operations; no partnership in any possible +speculations, great or small; no interference, direct or indirect, with +the legitimate business of the country: it is only a wise and efficient +device, by which the Government assures to the people the soundness of +the paper which may be imposed upon them for money.</p> + +<p>The greatest merit of the scheme consists in the fact that it is +intended to supersede that irregular and unsatisfactory system of +banking which is based on a similar pledge of the credit of the several +States. It is said to be hostile to the existing banks; but it is only +so in so far as it requires a change of the basis of their credit from +State to National securities. The measure was not conceived in any +unfriendly spirit toward those institutions. It was necessary for the +National Government to assert its own superiority, and thus to +strengthen itself, at the same time that it sought to protect the people +by securing them a uniform currency and equable exchanges.</p> + +<p>Some murmurs of opposition have been heard from a quarter well +understood; but the good sense of the people, and, we hope, of the +holders of State bonds themselves, seems to have quickly suppressed +these complaints. A war of the State banks on the Government, at this +time and on this ground, might well be deplored; but the issue would not +be doubtful. Mr. Chase occupies the vantage ground, and he would be +victorious over these, as the country is destined to be over all other +enemies.</p> + +<p>At no other time could so fundamental a change in our system of currency +have been proposed with the slightest chance of success; and, upon the +whole, it was a grand and happy conception, in the midst of this +tremendous war, to make its gigantic fiscal necessities contribute to +the permanent uniformity of the currency and of the domestic exchanges. +For this great measure is no temporary expedient. Its success is bound +up with the stability of the Government; and if this endures, the good +effects of the new system will be felt and appreciated in future years, +long after the unhappy convulsion which gave it birth shall have passed +away. It will serve to smooth the path from horrid war to peace, and to +hasten the return of national prosperity; and when experience shall have +fully perfected its organization, it may well be expected, by the +generality of its operation and its great momentum, to act as the great +natural regulator of enterprise and business in our country.</p> + +<p>If these grand achievements in finance have had so important an +influence in sustaining the war for the Union, it is not likely they +will fail to constitute a large element in controlling the political +events of the immediate future. Their author is well known to entertain +the soundest views in reference to the thoroughness of the measures +necessary to restore harmony in the Union, without being of that extreme +and impracticable school whose policy would render union uncertain or +impossible; and if a ripe experience in public affairs and the most +brilliant success in transactions of great delicacy and difficulty, as +well as of the most vital importance to the triumph of our arms, are of +any value, they cannot be without their due and proper weight in the +crisis which is fast approaching.</p> + +<p>The election of next fall will take place under circumstances dangerous +to the stability of our institutions, and trying to the virtue and +wisdom of the American people. We are compelled to undergo that great +trial, either in the midst of a mighty civil war, or in the confusion +and uncertainty of its recent close, with the legacy of all its +tremendous difficulties to adjust and settle. Even in quiet times, the +Presidential<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> election is an event of deep significance in our political +history; but at such times, the ordinary stream of affairs will flow on +quietly in spite of many obstructions; and even the errors and follies +of the people consequent on the intrigues of politicians and the strife +of parties, are not then likely to be fatal to the public security. In +the midst of the tempest, however, or even in the rough sea, where the +subsiding winds have left us crippled and exhausted, and far away from +our true course, we have need of all the skill, experience, integrity, +and wisdom which it is possible to call into the service of the country. +But it is the skill and experience of the statesman, not of the warrior, +which the occasion requires. To our great and successful generals, the +gratitude of the people will be unbounded; and it will be exhibited in +every noble form of expression and action becoming a just and generous +nation. But civil station is not the appropriate reward of military +services, except in rare cases, when capacity and fitness for its duties +have been fully established. To conduct a great campaign and to gain +important victories is evidence of great ability in achieving physical +results by the organized agency and force of armies; it does not +necessarily follow that the great general is an able statesman or a safe +counsellor in the cabinet or in the legislative assembly. The functions +to be performed in the two cases are wholly dissimilar, if not actually +opposite in nature. War is the reign of force, and is essentially +arbitrary in its decisions and violent in its mode of enforcing them: +civil government, on the other hand, is the embodiment of law, and it +ought to be the perfection of reason; its instrumentalities are +eminently peaceful and antagonistic to all violence.</p> + +<p>In times like the present, there is always a tendency to appropriate the +popularity of some great and patriotic soldier, and make it available +for the promotion of personal or party ends. Success in that sinister +policy will no doubt often prove to be only an aggravation of ordinary +party strategy, by which the vital questions of capacity and fitness are +made subordinate to that of availability. We have in our history too +many instances of such intrigues and their dangerous consequences, to +admit of their success at the present time, though they come in the +seductive form of military glory. The degenerate system of party +strategy culminated seven years ago in the election of James Buchanan. +In pursuance of the secret and treacherous preparations for the present +infamous rebellion, the people were ignorantly and blindly led by +cunning intrigue into that fatal mistake; but it was not less the +circumstances of the tunes and the sinister combination of parties, than +the weakness and wickedness of the man chosen, which gave him the +immense power for mischief which he wielded against his country. The +complications of the approaching crisis will not be less controlling in +their power to bring about the ruin or the restoration of the republic. +In the uncertain contingencies and possible combinations of opinion and +interest destined to grow out of the immediate future, no man can +foresee what dangers and difficulties will arise. The only path of +safety lies in the straight line of consistent action; avoiding sinister +expedients and untried men; despising the arts of the demagogue, when +they present themselves in the most specious of all forms, that of using +military success as the pretext for ambitious designs; and doing justice +to the great soldier, <i>as a soldier</i>, according to the value of his +achievements, not forgetting that 'peace hath her victories not less +renowned than those of war,' and that the faithful and able statesman +cannot be overlooked and set aside amid the glare of arms, without +danger to the best interests of the republic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ASPIRO_A_FABLE" id="ASPIRO_A_FABLE"></a>ASPIRO.—A FABLE.</h2> + + +<p>Then my life was like a dream in which we guess at God-thoughts. I was +so completely absorbed in my love that I marked the lapse of time only +by the delicate varyings of my mistress's beauty, or the deepening spell +of her royal rule. I was delirious with the delight of her presence, +which comprised to me all types of excellence. Within her eyes the +sapphire gates of heaven unclosed to me; in the splendor of lustred hair +was life-warmth.</p> + +<p>—And had I forgot?—the red lips I crushed like rose-leaves on my +own—the tender eyes that plead 'remember me'—the faded rosemary which +we culled together—the vows with which I said that love like ours was +never false, nor parting fatal. Had I forgot? Could this <i>Aspiro</i> of my +worship quite dispel my youth-dream—had her infatuating presence quite +eclipsed my memory of Christine?—</p> + +<p>Alas! I had not meant to be inconstant, but while I strove sullenly for +success in uncongenial occupation, <i>she</i> came to me—Aspiro—came like +the truth and light, and taught me to myself.</p> + +<p>For a long time I doubted and resisted; though she tempted me, making +real the dreams of my shy, worshipful childhood, teaching me the +meanings of treasured stories which I had listened to from flower-sprite +and river-god, leading and wooing me with lovelier lures than even +Nature's; for tropical bird-song and falling water was harsh to her +voice, and dew-dripped lilies dim to her brow. But I shut my dazzled +eyes at first from these, and strove to see only the face whereon, with +tender kisses, I had sealed my future—having narrow aims; till the +vision faded despairingly, and even closed lids would not recall it, and +my weak resistance seemed but to strengthen the sway that bore me +willingly away.</p> + +<p>Over and over I told the rosary of Aspiro's charms. Hour by hour I +wearied not of her perfections. With burning vows and rapturous words I +pledged my life to her.</p> + +<p>Once when the wind was sweeping her gay garments, like hope-banners, +against my limbs, and tangling her long, loose hair about me—once when +I was blind with the jewel-dazzle from her breast, thrilled by the +passion-pressure of her hand, she said, in saddest, sweetest tones:</p> + +<p>'I am erratic, Paulo, and exacting—will you tire of me!'</p> + +<p>O Immortality! Did not that seem sacrilege!<br /><br /></p> + +<p>Like curlew's wings flapped the white sails of the ship on the blue +waters. Aspiro's eyes absorbed my mind and memory. The past was +voiceless—the future clarion-toned. So we loosed our hold of the real +past, and drifted toward an ideal future.<br /><br /></p> + +<p>We wandered through apocalyptic mazes, startling the hush of mystery +with daring footsteps. We brake the bread of the cosmic sacrament in +sight of the Inaccessible.</p> + +<p>In the metallic mirrors of Arctic lakes we watched the wind-whipped +clouds. Mute we knelt in the ice-temples of Silence, and where the +glaciers shatter the rainbows we renewed our promises.</p> + +<p>Wet sat at the universal banquet, and drank deep of Beauty. Cheek +pressed to cheek, arms interlaced, we sighed in the consecrated throes +of its reproduction, and in the imagery of Art we lisped Creation's +lessons.</p> + +<p>From height to height and depth to depth. Lagging in low canoes along +the black waters of silent swamps—life-left—seeing the far-off blue of +sky and hope between the warning points of cypress spires. Across the +stretch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> of yellow sands, seeking her riddle of the Sphinx, and asking +from the Runic records of one dead faith, and the sand-buried temples of +another, the aim of the True.</p> + +<p>Or clouds or rocks or winds or waves, the mutable or the unchangeable +was in turn the theme of our reproductive praise. There were +transfigurations on the mountain tops, where the spirit of the universe +wore shining garbs and hailed us, their Interpreters. From every wave +stretched Undine arms to greet us, and tongues of flame taught us the +glories of the element.</p> + +<p>Sometimes in giddy pauses shone sad eyes—yet not reproachful on me; but +if I sighed in answer to their shining, Aspiro dazzled in betwixt me and +my memory, and bade me 'cease not striving,' while her white finger +pointed farther onward. For our love-life was a striving, and life's +best porcelain was like common clay for fashioning vessels for its use.</p> + +<p>I gave up all to her, time, talent, ingenuity. Studying for her caprices +and struggling for her pleasure. How fair she seemed, how worthy any +effort! If only I might hope that I, at last, should wholly win her +approbation and make our union indissoluble. Her radiant smiles, and +lofty, loving words, were hard to win, but then, when won—! Who ever +looked and spoke and smiled as did Aspiro?</p> + +<p>There was neither rest nor dalliance on our way. Unrest lit meteors in +the heaven of my mistress's eyes, and I lost, at length, the delusion +that I should ever satisfy all her imperious exactions. Then I hoped to +make but some one thought or deed quite worthy of her favor, even to the +sacrifice of my life.</p> + +<p>I strove my utmost in the Art we loved. The strife consumed the dross of +daily, petty hopes and fears, which make the happiness of common lives, +and left my soul a crucible receptive for refinement only; and Aspiro +tempted me to new endeavors by glimpses of the court which Nature holds, +wearing Dalmatian mantle and spray-bright crown, in realms forbidden +mortals.</p> + +<p>'I thought, for my sake,' she would say, sadly,'you had already done +something better than you have.'</p> + +<p>If my soul sickened then, my courage did not falter, nor did her +incentive beauty lose any of its charm.</p> + +<p>I said: 'Give me a task, Aspiro, and I will please you yet.'</p> + +<p>Then she pointed to me what I might do, and my work began.</p> + +<p>In this work I reproduced my mistress's beauty and my love's +significance. Having learned the language of nature, I translated from +her hieroglyphic pages in characters of flame. With rash hands I +stripped false seemings from material beauty, and limned the naked +divinity of Idea. Shorn by degrees in my strife of youth and strength +and passion, I wound them in my work—toiling like paltry larvæ. And it +was done—retouched and lingered over long, apotheosized by mighty +effort. So I offered it to my Fate.</p> + +<p>Never before, as at that moment, had Aspiro seemed so worthy to be won +at any cost. I trembled as I laid my work before her—she so transcended +Beauty. But still I hoped. I waited for her dawning smile and +outstretched hand, ready to die of attained longing when these should be +bestowed.</p> + +<p>She, gleaming like ice, transfixed me coldly, and, slighting with her +glance my work, asked: 'Can you do no more?'</p> + +<p>I answered with weary hopelessness: 'No more.'</p> + +<p>How cold her laugh was!</p> + +<p>'And have I waited on you all these years for this?'</p> + +<p>I echoed drearily: 'For this.'</p> + +<p>'Well, blot it out, and try again, if you would please me,' said Aspiro.</p> + +<p>With spent strength I cast myself at her feet.</p> + +<p>'You see,' I said,'I have mixed these colors with my life-wine.'</p> + +<p>'Why, then,' she asked, carelessly, 'with your insufficient strength, +were you tempted to woo and follow me?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>So my life with its endeavors was a wreck. I thought of the good I had +sacrificed, of the hopes that had failed. The Past and Future alike +pierced my hands with crucificial nails, till, faint with the pain and +the scorning, I lapsed into a long prostration, from which I came at +last to the dawn-light of sad, once-forgotten eyes—to the odor of +withered rosemary.</p> + +<p>'True heart that I spurned,' I cried, 'can you forgive? I will return +Aspiro scorn for scorn, and go humbly back, where it is perhaps not yet +too late for happiness.'</p> + +<p>With dreary reproaches came memory, disenthralled. I dreamed of my +youth, its love, and its aim. I pictured a porch with its breeze-tossed +vines, a rocking boat on a limpid lake, a narrow path through +twilight-brooded woods, and each scene the shrine of a sweet face with +brown, banded hair, and love-lit eyes.</p> + +<p>And these pictures were the True. My heart cleaved the eternity of +separation, beaconing my sad return to them, and I followed gladly, hope +being not yet dead.</p> + +<p>The summer porch was shady with fragrant vines—but I missed the face. I +buoyed my heart, and said, 'Of course she would not have waited so +long.'</p> + +<p>I went to the woods, through the narrow paths where of old the birds +twittered, and javelins of sunshine pierced—on, where we had gone +together long ago, till I reached the dell where we pledged our love. +Ah! I should find her here—</p> + +<p>The sweet face where I should kindle smiles—the brown hair I could once +more stroke—the lithe form that I longed to clasp—the true heart that +should beat for me in a quiet home.</p> + +<p>No. No waiting eyes—no true heart—no glad smile. But a cross and a +grave and a name:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 18em;">'Christine.'</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Aspirants of the Age! Offspring of Aloēus I you have chosen a worship +that admits not a divided heart. But your faith, like the Mystic's, +shall also make your strength; and though <i>Aspiro</i> stoops not to your +stature, yet she reigns, and she rewards. Be true. Be firm. Even if it +be upon the wreck of some frail, temporal heart-hopes, you <i>must</i> reach +higher, till, in the sheen of the approving smile, you read the +world-lesson: Salvation through sacrifice. Through strife and +suffering—excellence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RED_MANS_PLEA" id="THE_RED_MANS_PLEA"></a>THE RED MAN'S PLEA.</h2> + +<h3>ALMOST LITERALLY THE REPLY OF<br />'RED IRON' TO GOVERNOR RAMSEY.</h3> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The snow is on the ground, and still my people wait;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They ask but their just dues, ere yet it be too late;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For we are poor, our huts are cold, we starve, we die,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While you are rich, your fires are warm, your harvests lie</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">High heaped above the hunting grounds, our fathers' graves,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We sold you long ago. Alas! our famished braves</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have sold e'en their own graves! When dead, our bones shall stay</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To whiten on the ground, that our Great Father may</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More surely see where his Dacotah children died—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His dusky children whom ye robbed, and then belied.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BUCKLE_DRAPER_AND_A_SCIENCE_OF_HISTORY" id="BUCKLE_DRAPER_AND_A_SCIENCE_OF_HISTORY"></a>BUCKLE, DRAPER, AND A SCIENCE OF HISTORY</h2> + +<h3><i>THIRD PAPER</i></h3> + + +<p>In any classification of our intellectual domain which it is possible to +make on the basis of Principles now known to the Scientific world at +large, the most fundamental characteristic should be, the distinctive +separation of those departments of thought in which <i>Certainty</i> is now +attainable, from those in which only varying degrees of Probability +exist, and the clear exhibition of that which is <i>positive and +demonstrable knowledge</i>, in the strict sense of the term, as +distinguished from that which is liable to be more or less fallible. +Although the precise point at which, in some cases, the proofs of +Probable Reasoning cease to be as convincing as those of Demonstration +cannot be readily apprehended, yet the essential nature of the two +<i>methods</i> of proof is radically and inherently different, and is marked +by the most distinctive results. In the latter case, we have always +accuracy, precision, and certainty, <i>beyond the possibility of doubt</i>; +in the former, always the conviction that, how strong soever the array +of evidence may seem to be, in favor of a particular inference, there +still remains a possibility that the conclusion may be modified or +vitiated by the subsequent advancement of knowledge.</p> + +<p>The Generalizations which respectively affirm that all the angles of a +triangle are equal to two right angles, or that the square of the +hypothenuse of a right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the +squares of the other two sides, rest upon an entirely different basis of +proof from those upon which the Generalizations rest which respectively +assert that water is composed of certain chemical constituents combined +in certain proportions, or that the nerves are the instruments of +sensation and of motion. The former are irresistible conclusions of the +human mind, because, from the nature of the intellect, they cannot be +conceived of as being otherwise. The Laws of Thought are such, that we +are unable to think a triangle whose angles will <i>not</i> be equal to two +right angles, or a right-angled one, the square of whose hypothenuse +will <i>not</i> be equal to the squares of the other two sides. So long, +therefore, as man is constituted as he now is—unless the human +organization becomes radically changed, these geometrical Laws cannot be +conceived as being otherwise than as they are. All men must apprehend +them alike if they apprehend them at all. So long as man lives and +thinks they remain unalterable verities, about which there can be no +shadow of doubt, no possibility of error.</p> + +<p>The doctrine that water is composed of certain definite chemical +constituents in certain definite proportions, or the theory that the +nerves are the instruments of sensation and of motion, rests upon no +such foundation. Whenever water has been analyzed, it has yielded the +same separate elements in the same proportions; and whenever these +elements are put together in the same quantitative ratio they have +produced water; so that the conviction is proximately established in the +minds of all that water is invariably the product of these elements in +certain proportions. But this proof does not establish the +generalization as <i>inevitably true, nor show that it is impossible for +it to be otherwise</i>. It is <i>possible</i>, in the nature of things, for us +to conceive that the fluid which we call water may be produced from +other constituents than oxygen or hydrogen, or that such a fluid may +even now exist undiscovered, the product of elements altogether +unknown.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>So in regard to the nerves. Observation and experiment have established +to the general satisfaction, that they are the instruments of sensation +and motion; but we are not <i>absolutely sure</i> that this is the fact, nor +can we <i>know</i> that a human being may not be born in whom no trace of +nerves can be detected, and who will nevertheless experience sensation +and exhibit motion. We may be as well satisfied, for all practical +purposes, of the nature of water and of the office of the nerves as of +the nature of a triangle; but the character of the evidence, on which +the convincement is based, is essentially different; being, in the one +case, incontrovertible and infallible; and, in the other, indecisive and +<i>possibly</i> fallacious.</p> + +<p>This repetition of that which has been substantially stated before, +brings us to the final consideration of the distinctive nature of +different departments of Thought, as indicated by the Methods of Proof +which respectively prevail in them; and hence as embodying either exact +and definite <i>Knowledge</i>, or only varying degrees of <i>Probability</i>. We +have already seen that in at least one sphere of intellectual activity +we are able to start from the most basic and fundamental conceptions, +from axiomatic truths so patent and universal that they cannot even be +conceived of as being otherwise than as they are, and to proceed from +them, by equally irresistible Inferences, to conclusions which are, from +the nature of the human mind, inevitable. It is in the Mathematics, in +which the Deductive Method is rightly operative, that this kind of +Proof—Demonstration in the strict sense of the term—prevails. The +various branches of Mathematics have therefore been appropriately +denominated the <i>Exact</i> Sciences, in contradistinction from those +domains of Thought whose Laws or Principles are liable to be somewhat +indefinite or uncertain; hence, called the <i>Inexact</i> Sciences.</p> + +<p>Exact Science—in its largest sense, that which extends to all domains +in which the proper Deductive Method has been or may hereafter be +rightly employed—is therefore a <i>system or series of truths relating to +the whole Universe, or to some department of it, consecutively and +necessarily resulting from, and dependent upon, each other, in a +definite chain or series; and resting primarily upon some fundamental +truth or truths so simple and self-evident, that, when clearly stated, +all men must, by the natural constitution of the human mind, perceive +them and recognize them as true. Demonstration is the pointing out of +the definite links in the chain or series by which we go from +fundamental truths, clearly perceived and irresistible, up to the +particular truth in question</i>.</p> + +<p>Thus far in the history of Science, Mathematics, as a whole, has ranked +as the only Exact Science; being the only department of intellectual +activity, all of whose Laws or Principles are established on a basis of +<i>undeniable certainty</i>. If, however, theories of Cosmogony and +considerations of Cosmography be excluded from the field of Astronomy, +this Science consists almost wholly of the application of the Laws of +Mathematics to the movements of the celestial bodies. Restricting +Astronomy proper to this domain, where, as a <i>Science</i>, it strictly +belongs, and setting aside its merely descriptive and conjectural +features, as hardly an integral part of the Science itself, we have +another Exact Science in addition to Mathematics.</p> + +<p>Of still another domain, that of Physics, Professor Silliman says, 'all +its phenomena are dependent on a limited number of general laws ... +which may be represented by numbers and algebraic symbols; and these +condensed <i>formulæ</i> enable us to conduct investigations with the +certainty and precision of pure Mathematics.'</p> + +<p>The various branches of Physics have not hitherto been ranked as Exact +Sciences, because, as in Astronomy, unsubstantiated theories and +doubtful generalizations, incapable of Mathematical Proof, have mingled +with their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> <i>Demonstrated</i> Laws and Phenomena, as a component part of +the Science itself. It has consequently exhibited an ambiguous or +problematical aspect, incompatible with the rigorous requirements of +Exact Science. Even in Professor Silliman's admirable work, <i>formulæ</i> +are given as Laws, which, however correct, have yet no foundation in +axiomatic truth; while Inferences are drawn from them which are by no +means capable of <i>Demonstration</i>. Strictly speaking, however, only those +Laws which <i>do</i> rest upon a Demonstrable basis and the Phenomena derived +from them come within the scope of the <i>Science</i> of Physics. So far as +these prevail, this department of investigation is entitled to the +Mathematical character accorded to it by Professor Silliman, and ranks +as an Exact Science.</p> + +<p>Astronomy and Physics, viewed in the light in which they are here +presented, are rather special branches of Mathematics, than distinct +Sciences. But as we often speak of Geometry as a separate Science, +although it is in reality only a division of the Mathematical domain, +and is so classed by Comte; so there is a sense in which both Astronomy +and Physics, as herein defined, may be regarded as individual Sciences, +and in that character they will be considered in this paper.</p> + +<p>We have, then, three domains in which the true Deductive Method is +active; in which we can start from universally recognized Truths and +proceed, by irresistible Inferences, to ulterior Principles and Facts. +In three Sciences, in Mathematics as commonly defined and understood, in +Astronomy and Physics as herein circumscribed, we are able to establish +starting points of thought with Mathematical certainty, and to deduce +from them all the Phenomena of their respective realms.</p> + +<p>Within the scope of these three Sciences, therefore, our information is +clearly defined, positive, and indisputable. The conclusions to which we +are led by their Principles can no more be gainsayed than human +existence can be doubted. While time shall last, while mankind shall +endure, while the human Mind is constructed on its present basis; while, +in fine, there is a possibility for the exercise of Thought in any way +conceivable to the existing Mentality of the universe, the Laws of +Mathematics, of Astronomy, and of Physics can be apprehended in no way +different from that in which they are now apprehended. There is <i>no +conceivable possibility</i> that subsequent investigations will show them +to be erroneous or defective. They stand upon a foundation of Proof as +unalterable as the fiat of Fate or the decrees of the Almighty, which +can neither be shaken nor destroyed.</p> + +<p>It is between these three Mathematical Sciences, on the one side, and +all other domains of intellectual investigation on the other, that a +line of distinct demarcation must be drawn, in any Classification of our +so-called Knowledge, in accordance with any method of classification +known to the scientific world at large. Not that the Laws or Principles +which lie at the base of all other departments of the universe are not +as stable, as definite, and as infallible as those which inhere in the +Sciences which have been specially indicated. But that, as yet, the +endeavor to apprehend fundamental Principles, in other spheres than +these, has been attended with only partial success; and hence, the +ability to establish a Mathematical or Demonstrable basis for other +regions of Thought is yet wanting, so far as is commonly known.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, we emerge from the domains of Mathematics, Astronomy, +and Physics, we are leaving the field of <i>positive assurance</i>, of +<i>undeniable</i> truth, and entering the realms where opinion, conjecture, +and variable degrees of certainty prevail. <i>The Facts of Observation may +be, indeed, as plain here as elsewhere and as firmly established. But +the con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>clusions drawn from them, the Scientific Principles assumed to +be established, may be erroneous or defective, and the power of +prevision, the great test of Scientific accuracy, is proportionally +wanting.</i> Derived, as we have hitherto seen these conclusions to be, +from Phenomena, on the supposition that a given range of Observation +will secure all the essential Principles which appertain to the <i>whole</i> +of the Phenomena included in the range, we can never be <i>entirely sure</i> +that our basis of Facts is sufficient for our purpose, and hence the +<i>possibility</i> of error always exists.</p> + +<p>It is not to be understood, therefore, that first or observational +<i>Facts</i> are not rightly to be known in other departments of +investigation than Mathematics, Astronomy, and Physics; but that Laws, +Principles, or Generalizations which <i>relate</i> Facts and serve as +instruments for penetrating into the deeper arcana of Nature, cannot be +precisely, accurately, and certainly <i>known</i>, in their relations and +belongings, until we are able to establish their connection with the +lowest, most fundamental, and self-evident truths, and in this manner +become competent to advance step by step from undeniable first truths to +those equally undeniable. In Mathematics, in Astronomy, and in Physics, +we are able to do this. We <i>know</i> the Laws or Principles of these +Sciences, therefore, so far as we have developed the Sciences +themselves. We know the relations of the various Laws within the range +of each Science, and the relations of the different Sciences with each +other. We can advance, within their boundaries, from the simplest and +most positive verities, such as the whole is equal to all its parts—a +self-evident truth, which it is impossible to conceive as being +otherwise than as here stated—up to the most intricate ulterior Facts +of the universe, by Inferences which are as irresistible to the mind as +the axioms with which we started. In no other domains of Thought can +this be done by any methods now in vogue. In no other realms, therefore, +are complete precision and infallibility attainable. It is this which +constitutes the peculiar character of these three Sciences, and +distinguishes them radically from all others.</p> + +<p>The whole body of our authoritative and irrevocably determinate +intellectual acquisitions lies, therefore, at the present time, so far +as is commonly known, within the range of Mathematics, Astronomy, and +Physics. These are in strictness the only <i>Sciences</i> which we possess; +and the only domains in which <i>knowledge</i>, in the proper sense of the +term, is attainable. In passing their boundaries, we leave the regions +of positive <i>certitude</i>, and come into the domain where Conjecture, +varying from the strongest presumption to mere plausibility, is the +highest proof. Laws or Principles are yet undiscovered there, and in +their place we find Generalizations—Suppositive or Proximate +Laws—which are in process of proof, or already established by such +evidence as the Inductive Method can array, and which carry the +conviction of their correctness with varying degrees of force, to larger +or smaller classes of investigators.</p> + +<p>These three branches of knowledge are unquestionably entitled to the +designation of <i>Positive</i> Sciences; and to no others can it with justice +be accorded. To apply the name of <i>Science</i> to domains in which real +knowledge is not attainable, is, in some sense, an abuse of terms. To +denominate <i>Positive Sciences</i>, domains which are not strictly +Scientific, and in which <i>positive</i> certainty, in reference to +Principles and ulterior Facts, cannot be attained, is still more +incongruous. Comte's arrangement of the schedule of the Positive +Sciences, in which domains where Demonstrable knowledge prevails are +placed upon a common basis with those in which it does not, was probably +owing to the want of a clear perception on his part of the essential +differ<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>ence of the nature of proof by the true Deductive Method and of +proof by the Inductive Method, of the <i>actual</i> Certainty of the one and +the merely <i>proximate</i> Certainty of the other.</p> + +<p>If such were the case, his want of discrimination was rather due to an +overestimate of Inductive proof than to an undervaluation of +Mathematical Demonstration. That Mathematics, Astronomy, and Physics +were more perfect Sciences than the others in point of <i>precision</i>, he +distinctly affirms, pointing out that 'the relative perfection of the +different Sciences consists in the degree of precision of Knowledge,' +that this degree of precision is in accordance with the extent to which +Mathematical analysis can be applied to the given domain, and that to +the above-mentioned Sciences only is its application possible. +Notwithstanding this apprehension of the different degrees of +<i>precision</i> or <i>exactitude</i> attainable in the various Scientific realms, +he does not seem to have sufficiently understood that there was also a +vast difference in the <i>nature of the evidence</i> which went to prove the +truth of the supposed Principles and ulterior Facts of the various +departments of Thought, and hence variable degrees of <i>Certainty</i> in +regard to the positive bases of the Principles themselves. He thus falls +into the same error which it was one of the main purposes of his +Scientific labors to correct—commingling problematical theories with +Demonstrable Truths, as equally entitled to belief—and ranks Sociology, +including <i>La Morale</i>, afterward called a distinct Science, with +Mathematics, Astronomy, and Physics, as domains in which our reasonings, +in the present state of Knowledge, can be equally reliable.</p> + +<p>It is barely possible that the purpose and design of Comte's +Classification had, unconsciously, much to do with its really +unscientific and incongruous character. The aim which he had in view was +to construct a Sociology or Science of Society which should be a guide +in the establishment of a new Government, a new Political Economy, a new +Religion, a new Social Life, a new Order of Things, in fine, to take the +place of the decrepit institutions, governmental, ecclesiastical, and +social, which he thought were fast approaching their period of +dissolution. The Generalization which had exhibited to him, that the +Laws and Phenomena of the various departments of investigation were +dependent on each other in a graduated scale, and had thus enabled him +to establish the <i>Hierarchy of the Sciences</i>, showed him that Sociology, +including as it does the Principles and Phenomena of the other domains +which he regards as Positive Sciences, must be based upon them.</p> + +<p>Hence it became necessary to fix the Scientific character of all these +branches of intelligence, in order to create a Scientific basis for his +Sociology. It was, however, impossible for him to claim that a +Demonstrable or Infallible method of Proof was applicable to Chemistry +and Biology; while, on the other hand, to exhibit such a method as +introducing a certainty into Mathematics, Astronomy, and Physics which +did not appertain to the other so-called Positive Sciences, would have +indicated too plainly the unspanned gulf which yawned between the +indubitable Demonstrations of the Exact Sciences and the merely probable +Generalizations of the others, and have exposed the fallible character +of his Sociological theories.</p> + +<p>A Classification was rendered indispensable, therefore, which should +display uniformity in its character, and a sufficiently rigorous mode of +Scientific proof. To fulfil this end, the Inexact Sciences were accorded +a position of <i>certainty</i> in reference to their Principles which does +not in reality belong to them; while the Exact or Infallible Sciences +were degraded from their peculiarly high state, and brought to the new +level of the former on the middle ground of the Positive Philoso<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>phy. A +quasi-Scientific basis was thus erected for the Sociological movements +of the French Reformer.</p> + +<p>Had he been as <i>Metaphysically analytical</i>, <i>profound</i>, and +<i>discriminating</i> in his intellectual development, as he was <i>vigorous</i>, +<i>expansive</i>, and <i>broadly generalising</i>, he would have discerned the +insufficiency of the bases of the structure which he was building. Had +he understood the Scientific problem of the age, he would have known +that until the task which he believed too great for accomplishment was +adequately performed, until all the phenomena of the respective Sciences +were brought within the scope of a larger Science and included under a +Universal Law, there could be no 'clearness, precision, and consistency' +throughout all our domains of Thought, and hence no <i>true</i> Sociology. +Had he rightly apprehended the nature of 'The Grand Man,' as he aptly +denominates Humanity, he would not have failed to perceive that the +attempt to measure the capacities and requirements of Society by the +capacities and requirements of any individual or individuals, how +catholic soever they may be, is but the repetition of the Procrustean +principle on a broader basis, and that a reconstructive movement +established on such a foundation could not meet the wants of this +individualized epoch. That he should not have perceived that the capital +and necessary precursor of any true Science of Society must be a +Universal Science, a Science of Universal Laws underlying and unifying +Physics and Metaphysics, is not strange, when we consider his peculiar +mental characteristics. That he should ever have anticipated any +permanent acceptance of his Sociological Theories, or regarded his +Social Institutions as anything more than transitional forms, could only +have been due to a lack of the highest Scientific powers, and to an +earnest impatience at beholding Humanity crawling along the path of +Progress by the aid of obsolete instrumentalities.</p> + +<p>The work which Auguste Comte accomplished was immense. Its value can +hardly be overestimated. Every modern Scientist and Thinker is largely +indebted to him for that which is indispensable to high intellectual +development and progress in thought. For the immense steps in Scientific +advancement which he took; for his love of his Race; for his really +religious spirit, exhibited in his utter devotion to that which he +deemed the highest right; the love and sympathy of every student of +Science and every devotee of truth is, and will be, forever his. That he +failed in achieving a permanent Scientific basis of a sufficiently +universal and unquestionable character—a real Universology, which +should exhibit the essential verity of the <i>religious intuitions</i> of the +past, and should establish their inherent and harmonious connection with +the unfolding <i>intellectual discoveries</i> of the present—is true. But it +should not be forgotten that every attempt, made in the right direction, +which comes short of the final result, is but a stepping stone for the +next effort, and, viewed as a single round in the great ladder of human +ascension, a success—an element without which the final achievement +would have been impossible. Without Comte there would have been no +Buckle, whose work furnishes another of these steps. Every page of the +'History of Civilization' exhibits the indebtedness of the English +Historian to the French Encyclopædist of the Sciences; while the +'Intellectual Development of Europe' bears evidence of a 'Positivist' +inspiration to which Professor Draper might have more completely yielded +with decided benefit. For the lift which the author of the Positive +Philosophy and the founder of the Positive Religion has given the world, +let us be deeply grateful; although we must reject, as a finality, a +System of Science which cannot <i>Demonstrate</i> the correctness of its +Principles and Phenomena, or a System of Religion which emascu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>lates +mankind of its diviner and more spiritual aspirations, and dwarfs him to +the dimensions of a refined Materialism.</p> + +<p>In classifying our existing Knowledge, then, on our present basis of +Scientific acquisition, we must draw a distinct line between +Mathematics, Astronomy, and Physics, on the one side, and all remaining +departments of Thought, on the other, and set these three Sciences apart +as the Exact or Infallible ones, occupying a rank superior to the +others, by virtue of the Certainty and Exactitude with which we are +able, through the operation of the true Deductive Method, to ascertain +their Principles and Phenomena. We shall then be enabled—by the aid of +Comte's principle that the domains of investigation take rank in +proportion to the complexity of their Phenomena—to ascertain, after a +very brief examination, the place which History holds in the Scale, and +how much claim it can lay to a Scientific character.</p> + +<p>Comte closes the Hierarchy of the Positive Sciences by adding to the +three which we have denominated <i>Exact</i> Sciences, Chemistry, Biology, +Sociology, and <i>La Morale</i>, in the order in which they are named, as +indicated by the nature of the Phenomena with which they are concerned. +If we adopt this arrangement, and annex to each of these <i>general</i> +Sciences, as they are called in the language of Positivism, its derived +or dependent branches, we shall have the following order: Chemistry; +Geology; Biology, including Botany, Human and Comparative Anatomy, and +Physiology; Zoology; Sociology; and <i>La Morale</i>. Although this enlarged +scale is defective, many important departments, such as Ethnology, +Philology, etc., being left out, it is sufficiently correct to show the +complex nature of the Phenomena with which History must concern itself.</p> + +<p>History—in its largest aspect, that in which we are now considering +it—is the record of the progress of the Race in all its various modes +of development. In it is therefore involved the examination and +consideration of all the agencies, Material or Spiritual, which have +operated on Mankind through past ages. Mathematical questions concerning +Number, Form, and Force; Astronomical problems on the relation of our +Earth to other Celestial bodies, and the effect thereof on Climate, +Soil, and Modes of Life; Physical inquiries into the influence of Heat, +Electricity, etc., on individuals and nations; Chemical investigations +into the nature of different kinds of Food, and their relations to the +animal economy, and hence to the career of Peoples; Geological +researches to discover the origin of the human Race, and its position in +the Animal Kingdom; questions of Physiology, of Social Life, of +Ethnology, of Metaphysics, of Religion; every problem, in fine, which +the world has been called to consider, forms a part of the record of its +progress and comes within the scope of History. As the Descriptology, or +verbal daguerreotyping of the Continuity of Society, and hence of the +Dynamical aspect of Concrete Sociology, History stands, then, in a +sense, at the head of the scale, omitting Theology, the true apex of the +pyramid of Sciences, which pyramid Comte has decapitated of this very +apex.</p> + +<p>The problems which History is called to solve are therefore exceedingly +intricate and perplexing. The Generalizations of Chemistry, conducted, +as they must be, on our present basis of Knowledge, by the Inductive +Method, are involved in a degree of uncertainty, not only on account of +the complexity of their Phenomena, but also by reason of the absence of +any method of ascertaining when all the elements of a right +Generalization are obtained. In Geology, including Mineralogy, the +complexity increases, and the possibility of precision and certainty +decreases in the same ratio. This augmentation of complexity in the +Phenomena and propor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>tionate diminution of exactitude and certainty in +respect to the Generalizations derived from them, continues at every +successive degree of the scale; so that when we arrive at History, all +hope of even proximate precision, and all expectation of anything like +positive Knowledge, except in the broadest outline and generalization, +by any application of the Inductive Method, has completely vanished.</p> + +<p>The hopelessness of a Science of History prior to the discovery of a +Unitary Law and the introduction of the Deductive Method into all +domains of investigation, now becomes plainly apparent. Until the +occurrence of that event we shall look in vain for a true Science of +History. With the advent of such a discovery, it will be possible to +carry the precision and infallibility of Mathematical Demonstration into +all departments of Thought, and to subject the Phenomena of History to +well-defined and indubitable Laws.</p> + +<p>We must guard, however, against entertaining the supposition that a +Unitary Science will bring <i>all</i> the Phenomena of the universe within +the compass of <i>Demonstrable</i> apprehension. The province of Science is +not infinite, but circumscribed. We are limited in the application of +Mathematical Laws, even within the sphere of Pure Mathematics; general +equations of the fifth degree having until recently resisted all +attempts to solve them; and fields yet remain into which we cannot +advance. The power of the human mind to analyze Phenomena ceases at some +point, and there our ability to <i>apply</i> Scientific Principles, however +indubitable in themselves, ends. It is the office of Exact Science to +furnish us with a knowledge of the inherent Laws which everywhere +pervade the Universe and govern continuously and unalterably its +activities. To the extent to which it is possible to trace the +constituent elements of Thought or Things we can have the guidance of +these Laws or Principles. But when we reach that point in any department +of investigation where the complexity of the Phenomena renders it +impossible for the human intellect to successfully analyze it and +discover its separate parts, the sphere of accurate Scientific Knowledge +is transcended. The Intuition—the faculty which apprehends what we may +call the spirit of <i>Concrete</i> things, which goes to conclusions by a +rapid process that overleaps intermediate steps, which is our guide in +the numerous decisions that we are called to make in our every-day life, +and which perceives, in a somewhat vague and indefinite manner—becomes +our only guide in this Realm of the Inexact.</p> + +<p>The advent of a Unitary Science and the inauguration of a true Deductive +Method in all domains of Thought, will, indeed, completely revolutionize +our Scientific bases, and render precision and infallibility possible in +domains where now only conjecture and probability exist. It will enable +us to establish on a firm and secure foundation the <i>Laws or Principles +of every department of the Universe of Matter and of Mind</i>, and to +penetrate the Phenomena of all realms to an extent now scarcely +imagined. It will furnish us the 'Criterion of Truth' so long sought +after—a ground of intellectual agreement in all the concerns of life, +so far as this is essential, similar to that which we now have in +Mathematics, where difference of opinion is impossible because <i>proof is +of a nature to be alike convincing to all</i>.</p> + +<p>But, as in Mathematics a limit is reached, beyond which the finite +character of our intelligence does not permit us to <i>apply</i> the Laws +which we are well assured still prevail, so there is an outlying circle +of practical activity which no Science can compass. The various tints of +the autumn forest are probably the results of Mathematical arrangements +of particles; but to how great an extent we shall be able to discover +what precise arrangement produces a given shade of color, is doubt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>ful. +Some delicate varieties, at least, will always be beyond our definite +apprehension. Whether we shall dine at one hour or another, whether we +will wear gray or black, and innumerable other questions of specialty, +do not come within the range of Scientific solution, and never can. So +that when every domain of human concern is solidly established on a +basis of Exact Science, there will still remain a field of indefinite +extent, in which the Intuitive application of eternal Principles will +furnish an unlimited activity for the Practical, Æsthetic, Imaginative, +Idealistic, Artistic, and Religious faculties of Mankind.<br /><br /></p> + +<p>The task which Mr. Buckle set himself to accomplish was, in a marked +sense, original and peculiar. Although several systematic attempts had +been made in Europe, prior to his time, to investigate the history of +man according to those exhaustive methods which in other branches of +Knowledge have proved successful, and by which alone empirical +observations can be raised to scientific truths, the imperfect state of +the Physical Sciences necessarily rendered the execution of such an +undertaking extremely defective. It was not, indeed, until the vast mass +of Facts which make up the body of the various Sciences had been +included within appropriate formulæ, and until the elaborate +Classification of Auguste Comte had separated that which was properly +Knowledge from that which was not, with sufficient exactitude to answer +the purposes of broad Generalization, and had established the relations +of the different domains of intelligence, that such a work as the +'History of Civilization' was possible.</p> + +<p>Previous Historians, with these few exceptions, had contented themselves +with the narration of the <i>Facts</i> of national progress, the merely +superficial exhibition of the external method of a people's life, and +had almost wholly neglected or greatly subordinated the Philosophical or +Scientific aspect of the subject, namely, the causes of the given +development. Separate domains of History had, indeed, been examined with +considerable ability; but hardly any attempt had been made to combine +the various parts into a consistent whole, and ascertain in what way +they were connected with each other. Still less had there been any +notable effort to apply the whole body of our existing knowledge to the +elucidation of the problem of human progress. While the necessity of +generalization in all the other great realms of investigation had been +freely conceded, and strenuous exertions had been made to rise from +particular Facts to the discovery of the Laws by which those Facts are +governed, Historians continued to pursue the stereotyped course of +merely relating events, interspersed with such reflections as seemed +interesting or instructive.</p> + +<p>Up to the period when Mr. Buckle essayed his 'History of Civilization,' +few, if any, of the well-known modern Historians had conceived that an +acquaintance with all the departments of human intelligence was a +necessary accomplishment in a writer on the past career of the world, +and no one of them had undertaken to write history from that basis. +'Hence,' says the author whom we are considering, and who makes, in the +first pages of his book, substantially the same statements concerning +the condition of Historical literature which are made here—'hence the +singular spectacle of one historian being ignorant of political economy; +another knowing nothing of law; another, nothing of ecclesiastical +affairs, and changes of opinion; another neglecting the philosophy of +statistics, and another physical science; although these topics are the +most essential of all, inasmuch as they comprise the principal +circumstances by which the temper and character of mankind have been +affected, and in which they are displayed. These important pursuits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +being, however, cultivated, some by one man, and some by another, have +been isolated rather than united: the aid which might be derived from +analogy and from mutual illustration has been lost; and no disposition +has been shown to concentrate them upon history, of which they are, +properly speaking, the necessary components.'</p> + +<p>The work which Mr. Buckle contemplated was designed to supply this +<i>desideratum</i> in respect to History. It was an endeavor to discover 'the +Principles which govern the character and destiny of nations,' an effort +'to bring up this great department of inquiry to a level with other +departments,' 'to accomplish for the history of man something +equivalent, or at all events analogous to, what has been effected by +other inquirers for the different branches of Natural Science,' and 'to +elevate the study of history from its present crude and informal state,' +and place 'it in its proper rank, as the head and chief of all the +Sciences.'</p> + +<p>At the outset of his undertaking, we have ample evidence that the +capacious-minded Englishman had fixed upon no less a labor than '<i>to +solve the great problem of affairs; to detect those hidden circumstances +which determine the march and destiny of nations; and to find, in the +events of the past, a key to the proceedings of the future, which is +nothing less than to unite into a single science all the laws of the +moral and physical world</i>.' He was thus bent, doubtless with only a +vague apprehension of the nature of the problem, on the discovery of +that Unitary Law, whose apprehension is so anxiously awaited, <i>which is +to cement the various branches of our Knowledge into a Universal +Science, and furnish an Exact basis for all our thinking</i>.</p> + +<p>The Method which Mr. Buckle employed in the prosecution of his +magnificent design was the Inductive. He made 'a collection of +historical and scientific facts,' drew from them such conclusions as he +thought they suggested and authorized; and then applied the +Generalizations thus obtained to the elucidation of the career of +various countries. When we consider the nature of the work undertaken +and the means by which it was to be achieved, we can hardly deny, that +this attempt to create a Science of History was, in a distinguishing +sense, the most gigantic intellectual effort which the world has ever +been called to witness. The domain of investigation was almost new. The +point of Observation entirely so. Vast masses of Facts encumbered it, +aggregated in orderless heaps—orderless, at least, so far as his uses +were subserved. Comte had, indeed, brought the different departments of +inquiry into proximately definite relations in obedience to an +<i>abstract</i> and <i>Static</i> Law; but while this labor was, in other +respects, an essential preliminary to Mr. Buckle's undertaking, it was +of little <i>immediate</i> value in an attempt to secure the direct solution +of the most intricate and complex questions of Concrete <i>dynamical</i> +Sociology, involving the unstable and shifting contingencies of +individual activity. The whole of the intellectual accumulations of the +centuries may be said to have been piled about the English Thinker, and +he was to discover in and derive from them the unerring Law or Laws +which should serve to explain, with at least something approaching +precision and clearness, the kaleidoscopic phases of human existence.</p> + +<p>Only one generally known effort in the realm of Thought bears any +comparison to this, examined in reference to the vigor, breadth, and +variety of the mental faculties which it called into requisition. Viewed +in connection with the work of the founder of the Positive School, we +may say, without any disparagement to the comprehensive abilities of the +French Philosopher, that the task undertaken by the English Historian +required a tenacity of intellectual grasp, a steadiness of mental +vision, a scope of generalizing power, an all-embracing scholarship, a +marvel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>lous accumulation of Facts, and a wonderful readiness to handle +them, which even the prodigious labors of the Positive Philosophy did +not demand. Comte had, indeed, like Buckle, to arrange the Facts of the +universe into order. But in his case they were only to be grouped under +appropriate headings, and, as it were, quietly labeled.</p> + +<p>With the author of 'Civilization in England' it was otherwise. In the +<i>actual</i> careers of men and of nations, Facts do not stand related to +each other and to human actions in the distinct and distinguishable way +in which they appear when correlated, as by Comte, in accordance with +general Laws. The domain of the <i>concrete</i>, or of practical life, has +always a variable element which does not obtain in the sphere of +generalizing Principles, and which immensely complicates the +investigation of the problems of real existence. Comte purposely +excluded the realm of the <i>concrete</i> from his studies, and therefore +simplified, to a great extent, his field of labor. Yet even in his +attempt to bring order into this curtailed department of inquiry, he +professes, not merely his own inability to accomplish, but his +conviction of the inherent impossibility of the accomplishment of that, +for the <i>abstract</i> only, which Buckle really undertook for the +<i>concrete</i>; namely, the reduction of the Phenomena of the Universe to a +single Law; or, what is synonymous, the integration of all the laws of +the moral and physical world into a single Science.</p> + +<p>The character of his undertaking compelled Mr. Buckle, on the contrary, +to stretch his mental antennæ into every department of mundane activity, +to hold the Facts there discovered, so far as he might, collectively +within his grasp, and to draw them by an irresistible strain into +gradually decreasing circles of generalization, until they were brought +to a Central Law, which should contain within itself the many-sided +explanation of the intricate ramifications of individual and national +careers. The difference in the work essayed by the two distinguished +Thinkers whose labors we are considering, is somewhat analogous to that +which exists between the profession of the apothecary and that of the +physician. The former must know the range of <i>Materia Medica</i>, and the +contents of the <i>Pharmacopæia</i>, so far as is necessary to arrange the +various medicines in order, and deliver them when called for. The latter +must hold the different remedies in his knowledge, not as classified +upon the pharmaceutist's shelves, but as related to the various forms of +constantly changing vital Phenomena, in the midst of which he is to +detect their applicability to different forms of disease. Still more +analogous is Comte to the student of Natural History, whose business it +is, preëminently, to distribute and classify the Animal Kingdom, in +accordance with Generalizations which relate mainly to the form or type +of organization; while Buckle resembles the student of a higher rank, +who endeavors, in the midst of the play of passion and the actual +exhibitions of life itself, to read the nature of the mental and moral +development which exists beneath them and controls their workings.</p> + +<p>It is evident that, up to a period subsequent to the publication of his +first volume, the writer of the 'History of Civilization' entertained +the fullest confidence in the ability of the Inductive Method to cope +with the ultimate problems of the Universe, and had high expectations of +being able, through its instrumentality, to reduce the whole body of our +Knowledge to a systematic whole, and to establish a Science of Sciences +which should be a Criterion of Truth, and the crowning intellectual +achievement of the ages. Whether Mr. Buckle fully comprehended the real +nature of the Science toward which he was aiming; whether he entirely +appreciated the radical and important change which its discovery would +necessarily introduce into our Methods<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> of Investigation;—whether he +saw that it would be the inauguration of a true Deductive Mode of +reasoning, which would enable us to advance with incredible rapidity and +certainty into the arcana of those departments which he was then obliged +to explore with the most tedious research, the most plodding patience, +and the most destructive intellectual tension, in order to accumulate a +limited array of Facts, is somewhat doubtful.</p> + +<p>The significant sentence which occurs in the second volume of his work, +closely following the announcement of his disappointment at being unable +to achieve all that he had expected and promised, and which states that +'in a complete scheme of our knowledge, and when all our resources are +fully developed and marshalled into order, as they must eventually be, +the two methods [the Inductive and the Deductive] will be, not hostile, +but supplementary, and will be combined into a single system,' seems to +indicate that at some period prior to the publication of the second +volume, and subsequent to the issue of the first, the insufficient +nature of the Inductive Method as a Scientific guide broke upon him, and +some conception of the nature of a Mode of Reasoning which should +combine the two Processes in just relations, began to dawn into his +mind. That he obtained anything more than a faint glimpse of the true +Method, is not likely. Had he done so, he would certainly have made some +statement of the great results which would follow its inauguration, even +if he could have refrained from bestowing one of his glowing and +enraptured paragraphs upon the fairest and most entrancing vision of +future achievement which the devotee of intellectual investigation will +ever witness.</p> + +<p>It is probable, that in carrying on his investigations after the +publication of the first volume of his work, finding it impossible to +handle the accumulations of Facts necessary to his purpose, and +discovering the inexactitude and insufficiency of his Generalizations in +the ratio that the bounds of his field of inquiry enlarged, he was led +to perceive the essential weakness and inadequacy of the Inductive +Method, and the probable certainty that, at some future period, the +progress of our Knowledge would lead to the establishment of positive +bases for all departments of investigation, and thus furnish an +opportunity for the harmonious and reciprocal activity of the two +hitherto antagonistic Methods. That he had any definite idea of the +precise nature of the bases on which this union would take place, that +he perceived the exact character of the Science of Universology which it +would create, or contemplated the subordination of the Inductive Process +to the Deductive, there is no indication.</p> + +<p>But whatever may have been Mr. Buckle's understanding or expectation in +reference to the future, it is certain that between the publication of +the first and second volumes of his History, the hope which he had +formed and announced of being able to create a Science of History had +vanished, and his efforts were confined to a less extensive programme. +The pages in which this change of purpose is made known display, in +touching outlines, tinged with a noble sadness, that the soul of the +great Englishman was, in all the attributes of magnanimity, at least, a +fitting mate for his intellect.</p> + +<p>A storm of obloquy had assailed him at the outset of his labor. +Beginning with the time when the first instalment of 'Civilization in +England' was given to the public, passion, prejudice, and pride had +strained their powers to vilify his character and heap abuse upon his +name. The Press, the Pulpit, and the Lyceum, with rare and brave +exceptions, met the formidable array of Facts with which the work +bristled, by sciolistic criticisms, bigoted denunciations, or timid, +faint praise. Conservatives in Politics and Religion exhibited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> him as a +dangerous innovator, a social iconoclast, the would-be destroyer of all +that was sacred in Institutions and in Religion. Theologians branded him +as immoral and atheistic, and poured upon him a torrent of vituperation +and hatred.</p> + +<p>The only public reply which the English writer condescended to make, is +contained in the closing pages of the fourth chapter of the last volume +which he published. Every line of this answer, which is transcribed +below, breathes the spirit of Him who, when he was reviled, reviled not +again—the spirit of forbearance, of generous forgiveness, of +magnanimity, of unruffled dignity. Buckle had learned, indeed, from his +own investigations, that he who would elevate mankind must expect, not +only its indifference to his labors, but its positive abuse. He knew, +that the individual who, like Jesus, attempts to promulgate new truth, +either moral or intellectual, must expect to array against himself the +greatest portion of the human family, incrusted in their prejudices, +their ignorance, their interests, or their feelings, and must be content +with the appreciation and sympathy of the few who are wise enough to +understand him, truthful enough to accept his doctrine, however +unwholesome to their tastes, and brave enough to avow it. Perhaps he had +also learned the fact, that, in the present state of humanity's +development, few, very few, even of the best of mankind, love truth, +chiefly <i>because it is truth</i>, and are hence eager to know their own +shortcomings; but that those truths only are, for the most part, capable +of being acceptably presented to individuals, which it is more +satisfactory to their personal feelings, more comfortable to their own +inherent peculiarities of disposition, to conform to than to reject. Be +this as it may, the reply which he makes to the outrages showered upon +him is evidently the language of a man whose thoughts are far removed +from the arena of petty spite or private resentment, the expression of +one who knew the grandeur and usefulness of his labors, who expected, in +their prosecution, to be misunderstood and calumniated, and who, yet, +was incapable of other than the most generous impulses of a noble +philanthropy toward his maligners and traducers.</p> + +<p>In the announcement of his inability to fulfil the great promises made +in the former volume, we find, likewise, the indications of a nature +full of lofty grandeur. He who has known the scholar's hopes, the +student's struggles, and the author's ambition, may form some faint +conception of what must have been the feelings of the great Historian +when the conviction came to him, first faintly foreshadowed and then +deepening to a reality, that the prize for which he had contended—and +such a prize! which had seemed, too, at times, almost within his +grasp—was destined forever to elude him. Frankly to acknowledge failure +in such a struggle, was in itself great; to acknowledge it when the +cries of his assailants were still ringing in his ears, and when it +might have been measurably concealed, was still greater; to acknowledge +it in words which betray no trace of disappointed <i>personal</i> ambition, +but only a regret that the final avenue to truth should not have been +opened, was heroic even to sublimity. The pages of Buckle's 'History of +Civilization' which record the answer to his traducers and the +acknowledgment of his disappointment in relation to what he should be +able to achieve, will stand in the annals of literary history as a +memorable instance in which is significantly exhibited one factor of +that highest religious spirit so much needed in our day—<i>devotion to +the intellectual discovery of all truth for truth's sake</i>.</p> + +<p>The following is the passage in question:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'In the moral world, as in the physical world, nothing is +anomalous; nothing is unnatural; nothing is strange.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> All is order, +symmetry, and law. There are opposites, but there are no +contradictions. In the character of a nation, inconsistency is +impossible. Such, however, is still the backward condition of the +human mind, and with so evil and jaundiced an eye do we approach +the greatest problems, that not only common writers, but even men +from whom better things might be hoped, are on this point involved +in constant confusion. Perplexing themselves and their readers by +speaking of inconsistency, as if it were a quality belonging to the +subject which they investigate, instead of being, as it really is, +a measure of their own ignorance. It is the business of the +historian to remove this ignorance by showing that the movements of +nations are perfectly regular, and that, like all other movements, +they are solely determined by their antecedents. If he cannot do +this, he is no historian. He may be an annalist, or a biographer, +or a chronicler, but higher than that he cannot rise, unless he is +imbued with that spirit of science which teaches, as an article of +faith, the doctrine of uniform sequence; in other words, the +doctrine that certain events having already happened, certain other +events corresponding to them will also happen. To seize this idea +with firmness, and to apply it on all occasions, without listening +to any exceptions, is extremely difficult, but it must be done by +whoever wishes to elevate the study of history from its present +crude and informal state, and do what he may toward placing it in +its proper rank, as the head and chief of all the sciences. Even +then, he cannot perform his task unless his materials are ample, +and derived from sources of unquestioned credibility. But if his +facts are sufficiently numerous; if they are very diversified; if +they have been collected from such various quarters that they can +check and confront each other, so as to do away with all suspicion +of their testimony being garbled; and if he who uses them possesses +that faculty of generalization, without which nothing great can be +achieved, he will hardly fail in bringing some part of his labors +to a prosperous issue, provided he devotes all his strength to that +one enterprise, postponing to it every other object of ambition, +and sacrificing to it many interests which men hold dear. Some of +the most pleasurable incentives to action, he must disregard. Not +for him are those rewards which in other pursuits the same energy +would have earned; not for him, the sweets of popular applause; not +for him, the luxury of power; not for him, a share in the councils +of his country; not for him a conspicuous and honored place before +the public eye. Albeit, conscious of what he could do, he may not +compete in the great contest; he cannot hope to win the prize; he +cannot even enjoy the excitement of the struggle. To him the arena +is closed. His recompense lies within himself, and he must learn to +care little for the sympathy of his fellow creatures, or for such +honors as they are able to bestow. So far from looking for these +things, he should rather be prepared for that obloquy which always +awaits those, who, by opening up new veins of thought, disturb the +prejudices of their contemporaries. While ignorance, and worse than +ignorance, is imputed to him, while his motives are misrepresented +and his integrity impeached, while he is accused of denying the +value of moral principles, and of attacking the foundation of all +religion, as if he were some public enemy, who made it his business +to corrupt society, and whose delight it was to see what evil he +could do; while these charges are brought forward, and repeated +from mouth to mouth, he must be capable of pursuing in silence the +even tenor of his way, without swerving, without pausing, and +without stepping from his path to notice the angry outcries which +he cannot but hear, and which he is more than human if he does not +long to rebuke. These are the qualities, and these the high +resolves, indispensable to him who, on the most important of all +subjects, believing that the old road is worn out and useless, +seeks to strike out a new one for himself, and, in the effort, not +only perhaps exhausts his strength, but is sure to incur the enmity +of those who are bent on maintaining the ancient scheme unimpaired. +To solve the great problem of affairs; to detect those hidden +circumstances which determine the march and destiny of nations; and +to find, in the events of the past, a key to the proceedings of the +future, is nothing less than to unite into a single science all the +laws of the moral and physical world. Whoever does this, will build +up afresh the fabric of our knowledge, rearrange its va<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>rious +parts, and harmonize its apparent discrepancies. Perchance, the +human mind is hardly ready for so vast an enterprise. At all +events, he who undertakes it will meet with little sympathy, and +will find few to help him. And let him toil as he may, the sun and +noontide of his life shall pass by, the evening of his days shall +overtake him, and he himself have to quit the scene, leaving that +unfinished which he had vainly hoped to complete. He may lay the +foundation; it will be for his successors to raise the edifice. +Their hands will give the last touch; they will reap the glory; +their names will be remembered when his is forgotten.</p> + +<p>'It is, indeed, too true, that such a work requires, not only +several minds, but also the successive experience of several +generations. Once, I own, I thought otherwise. Once, when I first +caught sight of the whole field of knowledge, and seemed, however +dimly, to discern its various parts, and the relation they bore to +each other, I was so entranced with its surpassing beauty, that the +judgment was beguiled, and I deemed myself able, not only to cover +the surface, but also to master the details. Little did I know how +the horizon enlarges as well as recedes, and how vainly we grasp at +the fleeting forms, which melt away and elude us in the distance. +Of all that I had hoped to do, I now find but too surely how small +a part I shall accomplish. In those early aspirations, there was +much that was fanciful; perhaps there was much that was foolish. +Perhaps, too, they contained a moral defect, and savored of an +arrogance which belongs to a strength that refuses to recognize its +own weakness. Still, even now that they are defeated and brought to +nought, I cannot repent having indulged in them, but, on the +contrary, I would willingly recall them if I could. For, such hopes +belong to that joyous and sanguine period of life, when alone we +are really happy; when the emotions are more active than the +judgment; when experience has not yet hardened our nature; when the +affections are not yet blighted and nipped to the core; and when +the bitterness of disappointment not having yet been felt, +difficulties are unheeded, obstacles are unseen, ambition is a +pleasure instead of a pang, and the blood coursing swiftly through +the veins, the pulse beats high, while the heart throbs at the +prospect of the future. Those are glorious days; but they go from +us, and nothing can compensate their absence. To me, they now seem +more like the visions of a disordered fancy than the sober +realities of things that were, and are not. It is painful to make +this confession; but I owe it to the reader, because I would not +have him to suppose that either in this or in the future volumes of +my History I shall be able to redeem my pledge, and to perform all +that I promised. Something I hope to achieve which will interest +the thinkers of this age; and, something, perhaps, on which +posterity may build. It will, however, only be a fragment of my +original design.'</p></div> + +<p>In estimating the extent to which Mr. Buckle succeeded in consummating +the labor which he undertook, we are not, therefore, to measure his +results by the standard of the first, but by that of the second volume. +It is not, then, the Science of History which he is striving to write; +but only something 'which will interest the thinkers of this age, and +something, perhaps, on which posterity may build.' His task, as thus +abridged, was confined to the endeavor to establish the 'four leading +propositions, which, according to my [his] view, are to be deemed the +basis of the history of civilization;' that is, the basis of a Science +of History. These propositions, given in a previous article, may be here +repeated:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'1st. That the progress of mankind depends on the success with +which the laws of phenomena are investigated, and on the extent to +which a knowledge of those laws is diffused. 2d. That before such +investigation can begin, a spirit of scepticism must arise, which, +at first aiding the investigation, is afterward aided by it. 3d. +That the discoveries thus made, increase the influence of +intellectual truths, and diminish, relatively, not absolutely, the +influence of moral truths; moral truths being more stationary than +intellectual truths, and receiving fewer additions. 4th. That the +great enemy of this movement, and therefore the great enemy of +civilization, is the protective spirit; by which I mean the notion +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> society cannot prosper unless the affairs of life are watched +over and protected at nearly every turn by the state and the +church; the state teaching men what to do, and the church teaching +them what they are to believe.'</p></div> + +<p>In the first paper of this series, which was devoted to the examination +of the third proposition as announced by Mr. Buckle and substantially +affirmed by Professor Draper, together with the consideration of the +fundamental Law of Human Progress, the error into which both of these +distinguished writers had fallen in regard to the relative influence of +moral and intellectual truths, was pointed out; as also the +misconception under which they rested concerning the Law of Human +Development. This misconception, it was then shown, arose from an +incorrect understanding of the essential character of the Law itself, +and could be traced, basically, to the same source whence sprang their +mistake in reference to the comparative power of moral and mental +forces. It is to a misapprehension, analogous to that which brought him +into error concerning these two important points, that the radical +defect of Mr. Buckle's first and fourth propositions is to be traced, as +will be hereafter exhibited.</p> + +<p>The complete and exhaustive consideration of the second proposition +demands a range of Metaphysical examination which cannot be entered upon +at this time. For our present purposes it may be dismissed with the +following remarks:</p> + +<p>That before men begin the investigation of any subject <i>deliberately</i>, +<i>reflectively</i>, and with a <i>fixed</i> and <i>intelligent</i> purpose of +ascertaining the truth concerning it, there must arise some feeling of +doubt in their minds in relation to the given subject or to some details +of it, is certainly true, and needed no array of evidence to prove it; +but that prior to such <i>conscious</i> and <i>intentional</i> effort at +exploration, there exists an <i>unconscious</i> or <i>automatic</i> action in the +mind, an instinctual and passive kind of thinking, a vague floating of +ideas <i>into</i> the mental faculties, rather than an apprehension of them +by an active and deliberate <i>tension</i> of the intellect, and that it is +through this kind of <i>intuitive investigation</i> that the 'spirit of +scepticism' primarily arises, is equally true; though not, perhaps, at +the first blush, so apparent. In this sense, the statement of Mr. Buckle +is simply one half of a truism, the other half of which, not enunciated +by him, is equally correct.</p> + +<p>Whether the spirit of scepticism—which then undoubtedly aids in the +investigation—<i>is afterward aided or fostered by it</i>, depends upon the +nature of the question investigated. If this be one which has hitherto +been considered as established upon a basis that was in every respect +right, and if errors are revealed in the process of the examination, +then, indeed, the spirit of scepticism is strengthened. But if, on the +contrary, the investigation be in reference to a range of thought which +rests upon a basis that is, in all ways, sound—concerning Mathematical +truths, for instance—then the sceptical spirit is <i>not</i> aided by it, +but is, contrariwise, weakened.</p> + +<p>In respect to the field of inquiry covered by the author of +'Civilization in England,' it was seen that numerous statements had been +accepted as true in early times, which closer scrutiny at a later period +showed to be erroneous. Hence there came to be a want of confidence in +the general basis upon which knowledge rested; and, as continued +research served to confirm the doubts previously existing, investigation +did aid, in this great department of thought, covering indeed the entire +history of the past, the spirit of scepticism. As a <i>fact</i>, therefore, +<i>in relation to this special sphere of inquiry</i>, Mr. Buckle's statement +is correct; as a universal <i>Generalization</i> derived from this Fact, it +may or may not be true, according to the subject of examination to which +it is applied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>This proposition is, therefore, like that in relation to the moral and +intellectual elements—as previously shown—and like all Mr. Buckle's +Generalizations—as will be hereafter shown—a half-truth, a correct +statement of one side of a verity, good so far as it goes, but +essentially false when put for the whole, as in the present instance, or +when held so as to exclude the opposite half-truth.</p> + +<p>It is this fact, that basic truth is everywhere made up of a <i>union of +opposites</i>, each of which seems, at first sight, to exclude the other, +which the Historian himself so forcibly expresses when he exclaims: 'In +the moral world, as in the physical world, nothing is anomalous; nothing +is unnatural; nothing is strange. All is order, symmetry, and law. +<i>There are opposites, but there are no contradictions.'</i> Had he +understood the full meaning of this statement of the <i>inherently +paradoxical nature of truth</i>, and been able to give the Principle which +it establishes a universal application in unfolding the various domains +of human intelligence and activity, he would have grasped the Knowledge +for which he vainly strove, would have discovered the veritable Science +of the Sciences, the long-sought Criterion of Truth. In the absence of a +right understanding of this complex fact, that fundamental truth has +always two sides affirming directly opposite half-truths, he fell into +the error of mistaking the moiety for the whole, and has left us a world +in which, with all the aid that he has afforded us, we still fail to +discern the 'order, symmetry, and law' which undoubtedly pervade all its +parts—a world in which there is still exhibited, so far at least as +governmental, religious, and social affairs are concerned, an +'anomalous, strange, and unnatural' aspect.</p> + +<p>Such consideration as it is feasible to give the first of these +historical propositions in these columns, was, for the most part, +included in that portion of the examination of the positions of our two +authors, which was contained in the opening paper of the series; though +no special application of Principles there elaborated was made to this +formula. It was there pointed out, that intellectual forces constitute +only <i>one</i> of the factors in the sum of human progress, and that <i>moral</i> +forces are equally as important, being the second—the opposite and +complementary factor. In the light of that exposition, and of the brief +consideration here given to the second Generalization, it is perceptible +that the defect in this proposition consists, not in what it affirms, +but in what it does <i>not</i> affirm. 'That the progress of mankind depends +on the success with which the laws of phenomena are investigated, and on +the extent to which a knowledge of those laws is diffused,' is a +statement which is undeniably true. It does not, however, contain the +<i>whole truth</i> in relation to the subject of investigation. It is just as +correct to say that the progress of mankind depends on the success with +which the moral or religious faculties—faculties which instigate +devotion to our highest perception of right—are cultivated, and on the +extent to which they are practically active. For it is not in the +inculcation of intellectual truth alone, or preëminently, nor in the +cultivation of moral strength alone, or predominantly, that the progress +of mankind is secured; but in the developing vigor of <i>both</i> mental and +moral forces, and in their mutual coöperation and assistance.</p> + +<p>The proposition, as announced by Mr. Buckle, is, therefore, either a +half-truth, which does not sufficiently explain the cause of 'the +progress of mankind,' which the Historian avers that it unfolds, or it +is actually false, accordingly as it is understood to state a verity +which does not exclude the <i>affirmative</i> statement of an opposite and +apparently antagonistic truth, or as it is interpreted to be the +explanation of the whole or main cause upon which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> the advancement of +society has depended. That the author of 'Civilization in England' +regarded it in this latter light, is plainly apparent. His whole work is +an elaborate attempt to establish the invalid theory, that human +progress is due <i>almost exclusively</i> to the enlightenment of the +intellect, and in a very minor degree only to the cultivation of the +moral or religious nature. In a certain sense it is indeed true that +<i>all</i> social elevation is the result of intellectual growth; but it is +only in that <i>absolute</i> sense in which the Intellect is used for the +totality of human faculties, and of course includes the moral faculty +itself. In this sense, it is just as true to say that all progress is +through the Moral Powers, using this term to include the whole of the +human Mind, and consequently the intellectual forces. In either case, +the question still remains, of the relative effect of the Intellectual +and Moral powers upon the career of humanity, when considered as not +including each other. It was in this <i>relative</i> point of view that Mr. +Buckle entertained it.</p> + +<p>With this cursory examination of the first and second propositions, +their distinctive consideration will close. Some things, however, that +will have to be enunciated in the investigation of the English +Historian's Generalizations as a whole, are also necessary to a clear +understanding of the merits and defects of each one taken singly. +Additional light will also be thrown upon them in the course of our +analysis of the fourth proposition, which practically touches more vital +and important questions than are involved in the others. Contrary to +previous announcement, want of space will prevent the examination of +this Generalization and of Dr. Draper's work in the present paper.<br /><br /></p> + +<p>After this article was put in type, the writer received a letter from a +friend, a distinguished member of the Positive School, in which occurs +the following sentence:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I notice in your ... article on 'Buckle, Draper, and a Science of +History,' one inaccuracy. You say: 'History, while it is the source +whence the proof of his (Comte's) fundamental positions is drawn, +finds no place in his scientific schedule.' In the positive +Hierarchy of Science History <i>is</i> included: it constitutes the +Dynamic Branch of Sociology. As in the Science of Life, Anatomy +constitutes Biological Statics and Physiology Biological Dynamics, +in Sociology we have Social Statics—the Theory of Order, Social +Dynamics—the Theory of Progress = the Philosophy (Science) of +History.'</p></div> + +<p>The kindly criticism of the writer arises from that fruitful source of +misunderstanding—a wrong apprehension of terms.</p> + +<p>History, as it has been hitherto written, has been—<i>First</i>, a narration +of the supposed facts of the past, without any especial attempt to +investigate the proximate causes of national characteristics or mundane +progression. <i>Secondly</i>, an account of the life and vicissitudes of +states and communities, accompanied with an inquiry into the proximate +causes of national peculiarities. These two Branches of Investigation +have been included under the common appellation of <i>History</i>, when they +related to a special portion of the globe; and of <i>General</i> or +<i>Universal History</i> when, theoretically at least, the whole earth was +under consideration. <i>Thirdly</i>, the examination of the past progress of +the Race, with a view to the discovery of the fundamental Cause or +Causes which control or direct the Evolutions of Time, or the Principles +in accordance with which nations and civilizations have developed. This +Department is denominated <i>The Philosophy of History</i>. From it are +excluded all those investigations of an individual or national character +which comprise <i>History</i> in the ordinary acceptation of the word.</p> + +<p>Such a complete and exhaustive consideration of the Facts and Causes of +Human Progress as would suffice for the construction of a <i>Science of +History</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> would necessarily include <i>all</i> the Branches of Inquiry above +mentioned. While, therefore, <i>History</i>, as it has been used in these +papers, and as it is especially exhibited in the present one, has had +this comprehensive signification, the term is not applied by Comte to +any of the Departments of which he treated; and a very different +meaning, and one much more circumscribed, attaches to the qualified +expression which he uses in its stead. The Dynamic Branch of Sociology +does not appertain, even in his own estimation, to <i>History</i> proper, but +to <i>The Philosophy of History</i>, which is the title by which he +designates it. Strictly speaking, it does not appertain to that, in any +broad sense. It is mainly an inquiry into the Theological, Political, +and Social Principles of the Past and Future, and leaves unnoticed many +questions of equal importance with those discussed, and which, in the +constitution of a comprehensive <i>Philosophy of History</i>, would occupy an +equally important place.</p> + +<p>But leaving this point aside, it is sufficient to indicate the fact that +Comte, in conformity with the plan upon which he proceeded in the +investigation of other Departments of the Universe, eliminated from his +Historical examination all <i>concrete</i> questions, everything relating +primarily to individuals or nations, or to the causes of their peculiar +development; on the same ground on which he set aside Botany, Zoology, +Mineralogy, etc. In the beginning of his treatise on Social Dynamics, he +says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'We must avoid confounding the <i>abstract</i> research into the laws of +social existence with the <i>concrete</i> history of human societies, +the explanation of which can result only from a very advanced +knowledge of the whole of these laws. <i>Our employment of history in +this inquiry, then, must be essentially abstract.</i> It would, in +fact, be history without the names of men, or even of nations, if +it were not necessary to avoid all such puerile affectation as +there would be in depriving ourselves of the use of names which may +elucidate our exposition or consolidate our thought.... Geological +considerations must enter into such <i>concrete</i> inquiry, and we have +but little positive knowledge of geology; and the same is true of +questions of climate, race, etc.'</p></div> + +<p>And again he says, the inquiry is to be conducted 'stripped of all +circumstances of climate, locality, etc.'</p> + +<p>It will be sufficiently evident from this brief statement, that <i>The +Philosophy of History</i> (not <i>History</i>, as the letter says) which +constitutes the Dynamic Branch of Sociology in the Positive System is, +in Comte's own intention and showing, a series of bald abstractions from +which the <i>substantial</i> or <i>concrete</i> elements of individual and +national activity, the proximate causes of Human Progress, are dropped +out; and that <i>History</i> in the ordinary sense of that term, or in the +broader sense in which it has been used in these papers, as referring to +a possible Science, finds no place in his Scientific Schedule.</p> + +<p>The error into which our critic has fallen, in this case, undoubtedly +resulted in part from the unfortunate confounding of the words +<i>Philosophy</i> and <i>Science</i>, which pervades the Positive System. +Philosophy and Science are not, in any proper use of the terms, +synonymes. They relate—as it is designed at some future time to +show—to equally true and important, though <i>opposite</i> aspects of the +Universe, considered either as a whole or in relation to its parts. +Comte, as has been heretofore exhibited, degraded Science from its +<i>Exact</i> and <i>Certain</i> position, in order to include Domains of Inquiry +which did not have and to which he could not furnish a truly scientific +basis. In like manner, after discarding a false Philosophy, unable to +institute a true, or at least a sufficiently comprehensive one, on the +foundation which he had reared, he gave the name of <i>Positive +Philosophy</i> to his incongruous coordination of Scientific and +Unscientific Departments of Thought. The terms <i>Science</i> and +<i>Philosophy</i>, thus wrenched from their legitimate uses, are therefore +loosely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> understood and indiscriminately applied by the students of his +System and the followers of his social theories, in ways which are +productive of numerous misunderstandings, though not perhaps of +unprofitable criticisms.</p> + +<p>In a subsequent letter, the same gentleman calls attention to another +supposed error—the omission of <i>La Morale</i> from the Positive Hierarchy +of Sciences—and adds:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Although this final Science was in a manner involved in Sociology +as treated in the <i>Philosophy</i>, its normal separation was yet a +step of Capital Importance; sufficiently so to make the enumeration +of Comte's Theoretical Hierarchy without it equivalent to a +misrepresentation.'</p></div> + +<p>For the purposes of the article in question—the exhibition of the +incongruous, and hence really unscientific character of the +Hierarchy—the Positive Scale was given in the paper alluded to, as +stated by Comte himself in the 'Positive Philosophy'—a work which is +accepted as valid, <i>both</i> by the followers of his theories in regard to +Science, and the adopters of his Social Scheme—there being no occasion, +at that time, to indicate the subsequent elevation into a separate +Science, of what there formed a subdivision of Sociology. The after +enumeration of <i>La Morale</i> as a separate Science, in a work which is +<i>not</i> regarded as valid by many of the disciples of the <i>Positive +Philosophy</i>, is, however, exhibited in the present writing, where a more +minute enumeration of the Branches of Inquiry included in the Positive +Hierarchy rendered it desirable.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="DIARY_OF_FRANCES_KRASINSKA" id="DIARY_OF_FRANCES_KRASINSKA"></a>DIARY OF FRANCES KRASINSKA;</h2> + +<h3>OR, LIFE IN POLAND DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.</h3> + +<p class='author'>Sunday, <i>December 30th, 1760.</i></p> + + +<p>I have finally decided upon going to Maleszow; I may perhaps feel more +at ease there than here. Barbara would accompany me, but the state of +her health will prevent her; her husband says it would be very imprudent +for her to travel. I have finally received a letter from the prince +royal; he is in despair at my departure. He is exceedingly irritated +against the princess, and fears lest Brühl should disclose all he knows +to the king.</p> + +<p>I must leave here as soon as possible. The happiness surrounding me is a +real torment. This sweet and quiet joy of a husband and wife who love +each other so tenderly, pierces my heart. This well-arranged household, +this family union, and all the delicate attentions of the Starost +Swidzinski, who adores my sister—all these blessings, which I must +covet, and yet of which I am not jealous, increase the bitterness of my +suffering.</p> + +<p>My sister is predestined to every possible felicity. Her little girl is +the most charming child anywhere to be found; her father fondles and +caresses her, and my parents are always writing to my sister, because +they feel so much solicitude for her and her little one. Happy Barbara! +Life is one long festival for her. Ah! may God take her happiness into +his own keeping, and may this reflection console me under my own weight +of sorrow!</p> + +<p>I shall perhaps feel more tranquil when I have seen my dear parents; +their pardon will be as a Christian ab<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>solution for me. I will again +live and hope when protected by their tenderness. I will begin the new +year with them; it may perhaps be the dawn of my happiness! I was +formerly so happy at Maleszow....</p> + + +<p class='author'><span class="smcap">Castle of Maleszow</span>, <i>January 5th, 1761.</i></p> + +<p>I have been here several days, but I think I will soon return to +Sulgostow. I suffer everywhere, and it always seems to me that I will be +most happy in whatever place I am not. My lot is brilliant in +imagination, but miserable in reality. And yet, my parents have received +me well, and have treated me with the greatest kindness. But a matter of +comparatively slight importance is one of the causes of my uneasiness +here: I have no money; I cannot make the slightest present to my +sisters, and can give nothing to the people of the castle.</p> + +<p>When I was with the princess, she provided for all my wants, and gave me +besides a small sum every month; I could save nothing, nor indeed could +I anticipate any cause for doing so. I now find myself in the most +complete state of destitution, and would rather die than ask for money +from my husband or my parents, who of course think that I am abundantly +provided for. When Barbara returned from the school of the Holy +Sacrament, she doubtless had much less money than I spent during my +sojourn in Warsaw, and yet she made a small gift to every one. She was +not, as I, bowed down beneath the weight of melancholy thoughts; her +spirit was free and her heart was joyous. She could think of others, and +offer the labor of her own hands when more costly presents were +wanting.... But I, unquiet, agitated, passing alternately from the most +actual and positive grief to fears still more terrible, cannot apply +myself a single moment.</p> + +<p>Formerly, when I was happy through hope, and when all life seemed to me +one brilliant illusion, I fancied that when I should return to Maleszow +after my marriage, I would be followed by as long a train as a queen; I +forgot no one in my dreams; all had their share in my royal favors.... +Ah! what a fearful contrast between my desires and the reality!</p> + +<p>I have not passed a single day since I came here without shedding tears. +When I first saw my parents I wished to throw myself at their feet; but +my father prevented me, and, treating me as if I were a stranger, made +me a profound bow. Whenever I enter the saloon, he rises and will not +sit near me; the homage he considers due to my dignity as princess royal +overpowers his paternal tenderness.</p> + +<p>This formal etiquette causes me inconceivable torment! Ah! if honors are +to cost me so dear, I would a thousand times prefer to be only a simple +noble.</p> + +<p>The first dinner I ate with the family was ceremonious and cold. My +mother was uneasy and ready to apologize for offering me the ordinary +fare of the castle, and my father whispered in my ear:</p> + +<p>'I might have offered you a bottle of wine, drawn from the tun of Miss +Frances; it would have been very pleasant for me to have drunk it at our +first dinner, but custom requires that the father should drink the first +glass, and the husband the second; otherwise it would be a bad omen.... +Will that day ever come?' he added, sighing.</p> + +<p>I could not restrain my tears, and could neither speak nor eat; my +mother looked at me with the most tender compassion. Every moment here +brings me some new sorrow, and the bonmots of our little Matthias have +lost all power to divert me. My father makes signs to him with his eyes +that he may invent something witty, but it is all lost upon me. Music to +a suffering body is but an importunate noise; and sallies of wit to a +despairing soul have lost their savor.</p> + +<p>Our little Matthias is inconceivably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> acute; he divines all. He knows my +position, I am quite sure. He took advantage yesterday of a moment when +I was quite alone to come into my room, and with an air half sad, half +jesting, he knelt down before me and drew from his pocket a little +bouquet of dried flowers tied with a white ribbon and fastened by a gold +pin.... I could not at first tell what he meant, but soon the bouquet I +had worn at Barbara's wedding flashed across my memory. He gave me the +flowers, saying: 'I am sometimes a prophet,' and, still on his knees, +went toward the door. I ran after him; I remembered all, and with the +remembrance came a crowd of feelings, at once sweet and bitter. This +bouquet was the same I had given Matthias on Barbara's wedding day....</p> + +<p>I took a rich diamond pin from my dress, and fastened it at the +buttonhole of Matthias's coat. Neither he nor I spoke a single word, but +I am sure that while each wondered inwardly at the strange fulfilment of +the prophecy, each was still more surprised that it had realized none of +our hopes.</p> + +<p>Just as I was writing these lines, my mother entered my room. Her +kindness is incomparable; she brought me such a quantity of stuffs, of +jewels and blondes, that she could scarcely carry them. She laid them on +my bed, and said:</p> + +<p>'I give you a portion of the trousseau destined to my daughters; I +should have added many other articles, but I was afraid they were not +handsome enough, and yet I have given you the best I had. I have spoken +to my husband, and he has determined to sell two villages to make a +trousseau worthy of so illustrious a union. That will come when the +secret is unveiled.'</p> + +<p>I burst into tears, and would have thrown myself at her feet, but she +prevented me, and asked me a thousand pardons for presenting me with +things of so little value.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes! I must certainly leave here day after to-morrow. I suffer +beyond expression. My younger sisters, madame, the courtiers, and even +the old servants exclaim over the change which has come upon me, and ask +one another why I am not yet married, and why no one seems to think of +having me married.</p> + +<p>The three girls whom I was to take into my service came to see me; +doubtless, to remind me of my promise. Our old Hyacinth himself brought +his daughter to me. Every one I see causes me some new sorrow or +vexation. Ah! how astonished they would be if they knew of my marriage! +And these poor people who relied upon my protection, I cannot take them +into my service, because I have married a prince, the son of a king!</p> + +<p class='author'><span class="smcap">Sulgostow</span>, Wednesday, <i>January 9th.</i></p> + +<p>I am again with my sister. On my arrival, I found no letter from the +prince royal. He may be ill! Or, perhaps, the king has been informed of +our marriage, and has placed him under strict surveillance. If the +prince palatine were in Warsaw, he would surely have written to me; I +can rely upon his devotion. As for Prince Martin, I thank him for his +light-headedness, and am very glad that he forgets me.</p> + +<p>My parents' parting farewell did me much more good than their reception; +at that moment, I again found all their former tenderness.</p> + +<p>Before I left, I went to Lissow, and visited the curate in his +presbytery. When I came, he was planting cypress trees in his garden, +and he promised me to plant one in memory of me in the cemetery. I will +leave behind me this melancholy remembrancer. His words to me were very +kind and consoling. As I left him, I experienced a moment of real calm +and resignation.</p> + +<p class='author'>Tuesday, <i>January 15th.</i></p> + +<p>During the last few days I have been forced to struggle against new +persecutions. Just as we were about sitting down to table, the sound of +the trumpet announced the arrival of a stranger,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> and soon after, the +double door of the dining hall was thrown open, and M. Borch, the king's +minister, was announced.</p> + +<p>I at once divined the motive of this visit, and my heart throbbed as if +it would burst. M. Borch, like a real diplomatist, tried to give his +visit the appearance of a simple courtesy. Remembering the gracious +reception offered him at Barbara's wedding, he came, he said, to offer +his homage to her ladyship the Starostine Swidzinska, and renew his +acquaintance with the starost. During dinner, many compliments were +exchanged; but as soon as the dessert was over and the court had +retired, he invited me to go with him into the starost's private +cabinet, and said to me:</p> + +<p>'Brühl and I know your secret, madame, and I can assure you we have been +exceedingly diverted; for you may well believe that we regard this +marriage as a mere jest, a real child's play: the benediction given by a +priest not belonging to the parish, and without the knowledge of the +parents, can never be valid. This marriage then will soon be broken, and +with very little trouble, I can assure you.'</p> + +<p>These words fell upon me like a thunderbolt, and without a superhuman +courage and the aid of Heaven, I should have been crushed at once; but I +felt that the fate of my whole life might depend upon that moment. +Borch's character was well known to me; I knew him to be as cowardly as +base, and also that strength of will is all powerful with such men, who +are only bold with the weak. I replied:</p> + +<p>'Sir, your cunning lacks skill; your diplomacy and that of Minister +Brühl, come to nought through the simple good sense of a woman. Your +world, which judges me and deems me devoid of courage and reason, only +excites my pity; I am ready for a struggle with you and with Brühl. My +marriage is valid; it has been blessed by the consent of my parents; I +hold my powers from God, and will be able to defend them. The bishop was +aware of this marriage on which you are pleased to throw the anathema of +your irony; the curate of my own parish gave us the benediction, and two +witnesses assisted us during the holy ceremony. I know that divorce is +possible, but only through the common consent of both parties, and the +prince royal, my husband, and myself, will never consent to it.'</p> + +<p>Borch's astonishment may easily be imagined, and even I could not have +believed myself capable of so much energy. Borch expected to find a +child whom he could dazzle with a few promises; he thought he could +easily bring me to a renunciation of my rights, and that I would readily +consent to sign the instrument of my own shame and sorrow: he found me +most determined. He remained here two days, and again renewed his +attempts, but, finding that I persisted in my refusal, he departed, +having however previously asked me if I would consent to a divorce in +case the prince royal should deem it necessary.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' I replied, 'but you must first show me a writing to that effect, +signed by the prince himself.'</p> + +<p>I feared lest this occurrence should be the cause of a new sorrow: +Barbara's situation requires so much care, and she feels my troubles so +deeply! I was really alarmed lest her health should suffer, but, thank +God! she feels quite well. Dear Barbara is another me; alas! all who +love me must accept the chalice of misery! The starost was quite uneasy +concerning his wife; they are so happy together, so tenderly united!... +And I, what a sad destiny is mine! I have obtained neither repose, nor +happiness, nor those objects of ambition which I would have consented to +receive from the hand of love.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Here ends the Diary of Frances Krasinska. Her thoughts were too sad,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +her memories too bitter, to bear being transferred to paper. When sorrow +in all its bitterness has seized upon the soul, we can no longer see or +hear without a shudder certain words which formerly excited reveries +more or less sweet and seductive within our souls. Frances lost all her +illusions, one by one; she was strong enough to bear up against +injustice, but she was powerless against her husband's indifference.</p> + +<p>My readers may perhaps have accused her of ambition; and yet she loved +him; but love is not always absolute devotion and self-abnegation; love +is not always a virtue; it is often the result of egotism; it is, as +Madame de Staël says, one personality in two persons, or a mere double +personality. Frances loved the prince royal, but not the less had she +been dazzled by his rank.</p> + +<p>She remained a long time at Sulgostow after Borch's departure. Barbara +Swidzinska, already the mother of one daughter, bore also a son, and +another daughter, who was named Frances. The tenderness, care, and +attention which Frances experienced in her own family could not console +her for the prince royal's desertion. Her sister was the only being in +the world to whom she confided her grief; women have a delicate +sensibility which enables them to comprehend the minutest details; +nothing escapes them, and, with the finest instruments in their +possession, they can more readily deal with a crushed heart. If love had +left Frances a single hope, she might still have found happiness in +friendship.</p> + +<p>Nowhere at rest, she sometimes left Sulgostow for the convent of the +Holy Sacrament in Warsaw; but solitude could not restore her peace, and +her prayers were one cry of despair sent up to God to implore death.</p> + +<p>The genius of sorrow is the most prolific of all spirits, it seems as if +human nature were infinite in nothing but in the power to suffer. There +was still another grief in store for Frances, another wound for her +afflicted soul; she lost her parents, lost them before they had bestowed +the name of son upon their daughter's husband. At this time she went to +the Franciscan convent in Cracow, whither Barbara sent her her young +daughter Angelica, to endeavor to bind her to earth through the +influence of this innocent and youthful affection.</p> + +<p>She lived also at Cznestochowa or at Opole, and everywhere received +orders not to disclose her marriage. At long intervals of time, the +prince royal came to see her, and thus accomplished an external duty of +conscience: total desertion and forgetfulness would perhaps have been +preferable.</p> + +<p>The prophecy made by the little Matthias was finally verified: the ducal +crown and the throne of Poland both slipped from Prince Charles's grasp; +Biren was named Duke of Courland, and, when Augustus III. died (at +Dresden, October 5th, 1763), he was succeeded by Stanislaus Augustus +Poniatowski.</p> + +<p>To quiet the uneasiness and the melancholy suspicions of Frances, the +prince royal declared to her that through regard for his father's +advanced age he must continue to conceal his marriage. But many years +passed after the king's death without bringing any amelioration or +change in the position of Frances; the prince and the royal family lived +in Dresden, while the prince's wife was constrained to hide her real +name in obscurity.</p> + +<p>The Lubomirski family did all in their power to obtain a recognition of +Frances's rights; they even appealed to the Empress Maria Theresa. +Prince Charles finally yielded; he wrote a most tender letter to his +wife, begging her to come to him in Dresden; this letter found her at +Opole, and the Lubomirski advised her to await another advance from the +prince before she consented to go to Dresden, which she did.</p> + +<p>Prince Charles, like all men who are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> impassioned through their fancies +and cold at heart, was irritated at Frances's hesitation, and wrote her +another letter still more pressing and affectionate; she resisted no +longer, as one may well believe; but she found neither happiness nor the +rank she was entitled to occupy, or rather, the honor due to her rank. +Unprovided with a revenue suited to her position, she led a life of +privation, almost of want. The Empress Maria Theresa, touched with +compassion at her melancholy fate, conferred upon her the county of +Lanckorona, near Cracow. This possession, coming from a strange hand, +could not satisfy her ambition, and her heart must long before have +renounced every hope of happiness.</p> + +<p>She maintained a constant correspondence with her sister and the other +members of her family in Poland.</p> + +<p>We will here give the letter which she wrote to her sister before her +departure for Dresden, translating it scrupulously from the Polish, and +underlining [italicizing] the portions originally written in French:<br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I shall not see you again, as I can no longer delay, my husband +having fixed the very day for my arrival in Dresden. In his second +letter, he impresses on me not to be later than the fifth of +January. I must then say farewell, and rest assured that I return +with my whole soul the affection you feel for me; always, and in +whatever place I may be, <i>you will be the dearest to me, and the +tokens of your remembrance, the most satisfactory to my heart</i>.</p> + +<p>Write to me often, I beg you, and rely upon my punctuality in +replying.</p> + +<p>I am going where I hope to find a little repose.... Alas! I no +longer expect happiness, for the elector will not concede me my +rank as princess royal, nor recognize me as the wife of the prince. +He desires, that is to say, he commands me to preserve my +<i>incognito</i>, while in his estates. The prince royal is truly +grieved, and of all my sorrows the most bitter is that of my +husband; his health is visibly failing.</p> + +<p>I will write you a faithful account of all that happens to me; you +shall know how I am received and the progress of all my affairs. If +they will be willing to decree us an augmented allowance, I will +beg my husband to permit me to leave Dresden and settle in some +foreign country contiguous to Saxony, that I may readily hold +communication with him. Do not mention my project to any one, for +if it were known in Saxony, <i>my whole enterprise would be ruined. +Adieu, most tenderly loved sister</i>. Do not forget me. Farewell, the +multiplicity of my occupations will not permit me to write at +greater length. <i>Apropos, I beg you</i> to go now and see the princess +palatiness; you will find her with the Bishop of Kamieniec, and +Kulagowski; <i>she will be very grateful for this attention from you; +it must be agreeable to her</i>; you will brighten a little the +gravity of this trio. <i>Adieu, I embrace you with all my heart, and +am, as ever, your most affectionate and attached sister,</i></p> +<p class='author'><span class="smcap">Frances</span>.</p> + +<p><i>A thousand tender and friendly messages to your husband; I conjure +him always to retain a place for me in his memory.</i><br /><br /></p></div> + +<p>In 1776 the Polish diet assigned large pensions to all the heirs of +Augustus III.; the half of that bestowed upon Prince Charles was +revertible during her lifetime to his wife, the princess royal, Frances +Krasinska.</p> + +<p>During her sojourn in Dresden, she gave birth to a daughter, the +Princess Mary; she educated her with the greatest care, but was soon +forced to leave her; her many sorrows developed an insidious malady, +which finally proved fatal. She died on the 30th of April, 1796, aged +fifty-three.</p> + +<p>Madame Moszynska, who had shown herself a friend to Frances in her +prosperity, and, what is still more rare, also in adversity, was +grievously afflicted by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> her death. It was she who announced it to +Madame Angelica Szymanowska, born Swidzinska, whom Frances had held at +the baptismal font with the prince royal in the cathedral church at +Warsaw, in 1760.</p> + +<p class='author'><span class="smcap">Dresden</span>, <i>June 8th, 1796.</i></p> + +<p>I comply with your request, madame, but with extreme grief; the loss you +have sustained is a most cruel one to me; indeed it is the deepest +affliction I have ever known. The princess royal's malady began about +two years ago. She then felt pains in her breast; some physicians said +her disease was cancer, while others assured her it was tumor.</p> + +<p>An incision was then made, and she was better during some time. But the +disease soon made the most fearful progress. The inflammation appeared +upon the outside, and she felt the most acute pains in her breast and +throughout the whole length of her arm. She patiently endured the most +excruciating torments. Having tried various modes of treatment without +experiencing any relief, she finally consented to make trial of a new +cure. During twelve weeks she saw no one except the members of her own +household and the physicians, who sometimes said she was better and +sometimes that she was worse; finally, however, fever set in, +accompanied by all the signs of consumption.</p> + +<p>Perfectly aware of her condition, she prepared for death with +resignation and devotion; she died during the night of the 30th of +April. Her breast had burst open several weeks before. An examination +was made after her death, and many causes for her last illness were +discovered; but I cannot dwell upon these details.... In my opinion, and +I followed the whole course of her malady, her chest was seriously +affected in addition to the cancer.</p> + +<p>We have experienced an irreparable loss; I can scarcely endure life +since our misfortune, and will never be able to think of the princess +royal without the most bitter regret. I have not yet seen her husband; +some say that he is ill, and cannot long survive his wife, but others +speak of him as quite well: I know not whom to believe.</p> + +<p>I sometimes see their daughter, the Princess Mary, whom I love with all +my heart, but whom I can only visit once during the week. She is +charming, and already gives promise of a noble character. The princess +royal, during her dying moments, left her under the protection of +Elizabeth, the king's daughter and the prince royal's sister. Elizabeth +is warmly interested in the young princess, and sincerely attached to +her brother; she is a highly meritorious personage.</p> + +<p>May I beg you, madame, to continue toward me your previous sentiments of +kindness, and to accept the expression of my unbounded esteem.</p> + +<p class='author'><span class="smcap">L. Moszynska</span>.</p> + +<p>The prince royal, Charles, survived his wife several months, and their +daughter, still very young, was confided to the guardianship of Prince +Charles's sister. When she reached a marriageable age, she wedded Prince +Carignan, of Savoy, and their descendants are now allied to the reigning +family of Sardinia.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PETROLEUM" id="PETROLEUM"></a>PETROLEUM.</h2> + + +<p>Lucian of Samosata is responsible for the strange story of Minerva—how +Jupiter commanded Vulcan to split open his skull with a sharp axe, and +how the warlike virgin leaped in full maturity from the cleft in the +brain, thoroughly armed and ready for deeds of martial daring, +brandishing her glittering weapons with fiery energy, and breaking at +once into the wild Pyrrhic dance. We refer to this myth, bearing, as it +doubtless does, an important moral in its bosom, as suggestive of the +sudden and gigantic proportions of a traffic which has recently loomed +up in the region of Western Pennsylvania. The petroleum trade has worn +no swaddling bands, acknowledged no leading strings, but sprung at once +into full maturity. In less than one year from the moment of its +inception, it has fairly eclipsed the Whale Fishery, gray with time, and +strong through the energy and vigor with which it has ever been +prosecuted. And who can measure its extent in the future, since it can +only be limited by the sources of the supply flowing in the depths of +the laboratories of the Great Chemist?</p> + +<p>Petroleum, in some form or other of its various developments, is no new +substance in the world's history. More than two thousand years before +the Christian era, we read of its existence in the days of the builders +of Babel, when men sought to realize the dreams of the Titans, and would +scale heaven itself in their insane folly. It may have been used in the +building of the ark. Herodotus informs us it was largely used in the +construction of the walls and towers of Babylon. Diodorus Siculus +confirms this testimony. Great quantities of it were found on the banks +of the river Issus, one of the tributaries of the Euphrates, in the form +of asphaltum. By its aid were reared those mighty walls and hanging +gardens which filled the heart of Nebuchadnezzar with such a dream of +pride as he exclaimed: 'Is this not great Babylon that I have built?'</p> + +<p>And from those days so ancient, when history would be dim and obscure, +were it not for the light of inspiration on the sacred page, down to the +present time, petroleum has occupied a place in the arrangements of man, +either as an article of utility or luxury. It has been one of God's +great gifts to his creatures, designed for their happiness, but kept +treasured up in His secret laboratory, and developed only in accordance +with their necessities. And now, in our own days, and in these ends of +the earth, the great Treasure House has been unlocked, the seal broken, +and the supply furnished most bountifully.</p> + +<p>The oil region of Western Pennsylvania is the portion of oil-producing +territory that now occupies the largest share of attention. It is +confined principally to the valley of Oil Creek, a tributary of the +Alleghany River, which it enters at a point about sixty miles south from +Lake Erie. It is true that oil wells are successfully worked on the +banks of the Alleghany for some distance above and below the mouth of +Oil Creek: still the county of Venango has monopolized almost the whole +number of oil-producing wells in this region.</p> + +<p>There are some strange facts, that point to a history all unwritten save +in some few brief sentences in pits and excavations, of oil operations +along the Oil Valley. These detached fragments, like the remains of the +Sibylline Oracles, but cause us to regret more earnestly the loss of the +volumes which contained the whole. A grand and wonderful history has +been that of this American continent, but it has never been graven in +the archives of time. The actors in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> its bygone scenes have passed away +in their shadowy grandeur, leaving but dim footprints here and there to +tell us they have been, and cause us to wonder at the mystery which +veils their record, and to muse upon the evanescent glory of man's +earthly destiny.</p> + +<p>Along the valley of Oil Creek are clear traces of ancient oil +operations. Over sections embracing hundreds of acres in extent, the +entire surface of the land has, at some remote period of time, been +excavated in the form of oblong pits, from four by six to six by eight +feet in size. These pits are oftentimes from four to five feet still +in depth, notwithstanding the action of rain and frost during the lapse +of so many years. They are found in the oil region, and over the oil +deposits, and in no other locality, affording unmistakable evidence of +their design and use. The deeper pits appear to have been cribbed up at +the sides with rough timber, in order to preserve their form and render +them more available for the design in view. Upon the septa that divide +them, and even in the pits themselves, trees have grown up more than one +and a half feet in diameter, indicating an antiquity antedating the +earliest records of civilized life in this region. For centuries has +this treasure been affording intimations of its presence. Before +Columbus had touched these western shores was it gathered here, in this +valley, as an article of utility or luxury, by the processes of design +and labor, and with the idea of traffic and emolument.</p> + +<p>By whom were these excavations planned and these pits fashioned, that +tell of the pursuit of wealth so many centuries ago? Let the mighty +dead, that are slumbering in our valleys, and the remains of whose +fortifications and cities are spread out all over the great West, in +magnificence as vast and gorgeous as the ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, +arise and speak, for they alone of mortals can tell!</p> + +<p>From the fact that some of these pits have been cribbed with timber +bearing marks of the axe in its adjustment, many have supposed that +their construction was due to the French, who at one time occupied, to a +certain extent, the Venango oil region. But this theory is scarcely +plausible. Fort Venango was completed by the French at Franklin, seven +miles below the mouth of Oil Creek, in the spring of 1754, and this was +probably about the beginning of their active operations in this region. +But the construction of these pits no doubt antedates the French +operations very many years. Timber placed in these oil pits, and +thoroughly impregnated by its preserving properties, would be almost +proof against the ravages of time. As evidence of this, petroleum in +some of its forms entered largely into the ingredients used in embalming +by the ancient Egyptians. These embalmed bodies remain perfect to this +day. Even the cerements remain with every thread distinct and perfect as +when they came from the loom, in days when Joseph was prime minister in +Egypt.</p> + +<p>There is evidence, too, from the growth of timber in the very beds of +these excavations, that they claim an antiquity greater far than the +occupation of their valleys by the French. Year after year, a silent, +solemn record was made by the concentric circles, first in the shrub, +next in the sapling, and then in the fully developed tree, that tells of +the lapse of time since these mysterious works were in operation.</p> + +<p>Besides all this, where was the market for the immense quantity of +petroleum that must have been produced from these excavations, on the +supposition that they were constructed by the French? Surely not at +home, for neither in the misty traditions nor early records of that time +do we find reference to any large quantity of this product, nor even +their facilities for conveying it to the seaboard, had there been a +demand for it at home.</p> + +<p>The sole object of the French at that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> time was to gain military +possession of the country. This is seen in the line of forts that was +thrown across the country, extending from Erie, Pennsylvania, to a point +on the Ohio River below Pittsburg. There is no evidence that they made +any attempt either to cultivate the soil or develop the mineral +resources of the country. There were white inhabitants, too, who were +settled here quite as early as the temporary occupancy of the French. +Their descendants remain unto this day. These early settlers knew +nothing of French operations in petroleum. They were ignorant of its +production, save in minute quantities, as it issued spontaneously from +the earth; nor could they throw any light on the origin of the +excavations that were found in their midst.</p> + +<p>Another theory, that has been somewhat popular is, that these pits are +due to the labors of the American Indians. But the very term labor seems +absurd when used in reference to these lords of the forest. They never +employed themselves in manual labor of any kind. The female portion of +the community planted a little corn, and constructed rude lodges to +shelter them from the wintry blast; but they never even dreamed of trade +or commerce. The Indian loved to roam through the wilderness and follow +the war path—to seek for game to supply present wants, or to bring home +the scalp of his enemy as a trophy of his prowess, but would scorn to +bend his strength to rude toil in excavating multitudinous pits for the +reception of oil, or in bearing it from place to place after it had been +secured.</p> + +<p>Beyond all doubt the Indians were well acquainted with the existence and +many of the properties of petroleum. That they valued it is beyond +question. They used it, both for medicinal and toilette purposes. But +they knew of its existence and production, just as did the early white +settlers: they found it bubbling up from the bed of the stream and from +low marshy places along its banks. They, no doubt, collected it in small +quantities, without labor and without much forethought, and with this +small supply were content. But even if a much larger supply had been +desirable, and if the modern idea of traffic had found a place in their +hearts, they had no facilities for conveying it from place to place. +Even at the present time, with all our improvement in the arts, the +great desideratum is an appropriate vessel for carrying petroleum from +place to place, or retaining it safely in any locality; but the Indians +were utterly destitute of any appliances suitable for the purpose. If +they were acquainted with a rude kind of pottery, it was without +glazing, and so incapable of retaining fluids, particularly petroleum; +and we have no knowledge of their ability to construct vessels of any +other material that would answer the desired purpose. The inference is +therefore fair, that for purposes of trade the production of oil was not +desirable in so large quantities as indicated by these excavations. The +same reasons would hold good in relation to its use in the religious +ceremonies of the Indians. It could be used only in limited quantities, +from the want of convenient receptacles for its retention. Besides, we +doubt whether the Indians were sufficiently devout to resort to such +labor and pains in religious worship.</p> + +<p>Reference is sometimes made to a letter said to have been written by the +commander of Fort Duquesne (Pittsburg) to General Montcalm, describing a +grand scene of fire worship on the banks of Oil Creek, where the whole +surface of the creek, being coated with oil, was set on fire, producing +in the night season a wonderful conflagration. But there is room for the +suspicion that this account is apocryphal. Such scenes as are there +described have been witnessed on Oil Creek since the beginning of the +modern oil trade. During the continuance of several accidental +conflagrations, the scene has been aw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>fully grand and impressive. It has +been strongly suggestive of the conflagration of the last day, when</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'The lightnings, barbed, red with wrath,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Sent from the quiver of Omnipotence,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Cross and recross the fiery gloom, and burn</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Into the centre!—burn without, within,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">And help the native fires which God awoke,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">And kindled with the fury of His wrath.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>But this was when thousands of barrels of petroleum had been stored up +in vats, and when the combustible fluid was spouting from the wells at +the rate of many hundred barrels per day. Before the present deep wells +were bored, oil was not produced in sufficient quantities to cause such +a conflagration, and there was never seen upon the creek a stratum of +the fluid of such consistency as to be inflammable.</p> + +<p>The remains of the once powerful confederacy of Indians known as the Six +Nations still linger in Western Pennsylvania, in a region not very +remote from Oil Creek, but they can throw no light upon the origin of +these pits. In regard to their history, they can give no more +information than they can concerning the mounds and fortifications, +ruined castles, and dismantled cities, that tell us of a once glorious +past, of a mysterious decadence, and of the utter vanity of all earthly +glory.</p> + +<p>There are men still living in the oil valley, who were on terms of +familiar intimacy with Cornplanter, a celebrated chief of the Seneca +tribe of Indians—the last of a noble and heroic line of chieftains that +had borne sway from the Canadas to the Ohio River, and who was living at +the time of the French occupation. But in reciting his own deeds and +memories, and those of his fathers, who had gone to the silent hunting +grounds of the spirit land, he could say nothing of early oil +operations, any further than the collection of it in small quantities +for medical or ornamental purposes.</p> + +<p>The only rational conclusion, therefore, at which we can arrive in +regard to these early oil operations is, that they are due, not to the +Indians or French or early white settlers, but to some primitive +dwellers on the soil, who have long since passed away, leaving no +written records to tell of their origin or history, but stamping the +impress of their existence on our mountains and in our valleys, assuring +us of their power and the magnificence of their operations, yet leaving +us to wonder that such strength could fail, that such magnificence could +perish, and that such darkness could settle over the memory of a great +people.</p> + +<p>As before intimated, petroleum was found in Venango County by the +earliest white settlers, and was esteemed for its medical properties. +But it was obtained only in minute quantities. It was found in +particular localities along the banks of the Alleghany, issuing with the +water from springs, and sometimes bubbling up from the bottom of the +river in small globules, that rising to the surface, disperse themselves +upon the water, and glide away in silent beauty.</p> + +<p>The principal oil spring, or that from which the largest quantity of +petroleum was collected, was located on Oil Creek, about two miles from +its mouth. From this the main supply was drawn for the wants of the +earlier inhabitants. And as the demand was limited, no great amount of +enterprise was called forth in its production. The <i>modus operandi</i> was +most primitive, and yet withal the results were satisfactory.</p> + +<p>A point was selected where the oil appeared to bubble up most freely, a +slight excavation was made, and the oil suffered to collect. When a +tolerable stratum of petroleum had collected on the top of the water, a +coarse blanket was thrown upon the surface, that soon became saturated +with the oil, but rejected the water. The blanket was then taken out, +wrung into a tub or barrel, and the operation repeated.</p> + +<p>But the demand was limited. Most families kept a supply for their own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +use. Yet, for ordinary purposes, a pint bottle was sufficient for a +year's consumption. Indeed, half a dozen barrels were all that could be +disposed of throughout the entire oil region of Western Pennsylvania up +to a period when the researches of science were brought to bear upon its +purification as an illuminator. Almost every good housewife was supposed +to have a small store of Seneca oil, as it was popularly termed, laid by +in case of accident, for the medication of cuts and bruises; and not +even the most popular of the nostrums of the present day is so much +relied on as was this—nature's own medicine—by the early settlers in +these valleys.</p> + +<p>In the mean time a well was bored on the bank of the Alleghany, within +two miles of the mouth of Oil Creek, in quest of salt water, with a view +to the manufacture of salt. This was some forty years ago. After sinking +the well through the solid rock to the depth of seventy or eighty feet, +oil presented itself in such quantities, mingled with the salt water, as +to fill the miners with the utmost disgust, and induce them to abandon +the well altogether. They were boring for salt, not for petroleum. Salt +was an article of utility and large demand; oil was of comparatively +small importance, and already a drug in the market, through the +spontaneous yield of nature. Again, a well was dug in the town of +Franklin, about thirty years ago, for the supply of a household with +water. At the depth of thirty feet there were evident signs of +petroleum, that were annoying to the workmen; and although the water of +the well was used for culinary purposes, it always bore a trace of oil, +and was absolutely offensive to those unaccustomed to it. A hole has +since been sunk in this well through the rock, but the yield of oil has +not been as great as in some other wells in the immediate neighborhood. +In the cases cited above were strong hints of the existence of the +treasure concealed in the rocks beneath, and even of the manner of +obtaining it. It was in fact the treasure knocking at the door, and +asking to be released, in order to contribute to human wealth and +enjoyment.</p> + +<p>But the time had not then arrived for the grant of this great boon. The +earth was at the first made the repository of all the gifts that man +should need until the end of time. But they were not all revealed at the +first, nor to succeeding generations, until the fitting time arrived, +and man's necessities induced the great Giver to unlock the treasure +house and dispense his rich bounty.</p> + +<p>Before man was created, the great treasure house in the earth's bosom +was filled with its minerals, and as the centuries rolled by in their +slow and solemn march, such treasures were gradually brought to light. +Not at once did the earth disclose her mighty resources, but just as man +needed them, and as they should tend to his own best interests. Even on +the banks of the river that watered the terrestrial paradise, gold was +found, but although 'the gold of that land was good,' it was brought to +light in limited quantities. In the same sacred locality, and at the +same early day in the history of time, 'the bdellium and the onyx stone' +were found in their beauty; yet were they few and rare, until God would +consecrate the treasures of the earth to His own service in the +construction and adornment of the tabernacle and the temple. The great +treasure house of earth was then opened, until gold became common as +brass, and precious stones numerous almost as the pebbles of the brook, +and the riches of the earth were eternally consecrated to the service of +God.</p> + +<p>And in the present century, and within our own recollection, when the +world's business seemed to be stagnated—when the sails of commerce +flapped idly at the masts—when the great highways of trade and traffic +were in danger of being deserted, and the coffers of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> nation were +almost exhausted, the hand of Providence unlocked the treasures of +California and Australia, and every department of business has become +prosperous, and every branch of industry has received a new impetus. A +new lesson has been taught the world: that God's treasures are +inexhaustible, and that his hand can never be shortened.</p> + +<p>And now here, in this remote county of Western Pennsylvania, God's +treasure has been concealed for ages—locked up in the very heart of the +eternal rock, awaiting the time of need, and accomplishment of the +eternal purposes of Omnipotence. It has oozed forth in limited +quantities during the lapse of centuries, as though to show us now that +man cannot lay his hand upon the houses of God's treasure until his own +appointed time.</p> + +<p>We know not where the great Chemist has his laboratory, or where he +formed the mighty retorts that are distilling for us the oily treasure: +most probably they were fashioned when the earth assumed its present +form; and since 'the morning stars' sang creation's hymn together, deep +down amid earth's rocky caverns, through the revolving centuries, the +stores have been accumulating that are destined to bless the world and +become elements of national wealth. And now from that great laboratory, +through innumerable channels, cut through the living rock by the hand of +the Creator, and by 'paths which no fowl knoweth, and which the +vulture's eye hath not seen,' is that treasure brought near to the +earth's surface, just in our time of need. When other supplies are +failing and other resources giving way, we see God's wisdom in opening +up new channels. The great Benefactor would teach us that his resources +are unlimited, and that our time of need is but the beginning of his +overflowing bounty.</p> + +<p>It is really strange how slow men were to discover the abundance of this +supply, and to trace it to its luxuriant deposits amid the rocks. While +it was literally forcing itself upon their observation, it was only by a +roundabout process that they discovered its richness and importance. As +early as the year 1835 its presence amid the rocks was made known on the +Alleghany River, a short distance above Pittsburg, by its interference +with the salt wells; but no dream of its future importance seems to have +forced itself upon either the miner or the capitalist until within the +last few years.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the first real conception of the petroleum trade was in the mind +of a young physician in the Venango region. Yet it was but a dream, and, +like many another dream of the past, it was in advance of the age, and +resulted in nothing but speculation. In looking at the numerous slight +veins of oil that oozed up along the bed of Oil Creek, the thought +occurred to him that, by tracing these little veins to their source, the +main artery might be reached. And as this tracing must be through the +rock, the proper plan would be to bore down through it, until a large +vein was reached. This was certainly professional, and, now that it has +been tested, seems a very plain and simple idea. But it was like the +theory of Columbus in regard to a new continent, entirely too bold for +the times, and was rejected. There was in this physician's theory but +one link lacking in order to have anticipated the entire scheme of oil +production as it was afterward generally carried on. The thought did not +occur to him of leasing the lands along Oil Creek, and thus securing an +interest in the entire territory: he thought only of purchasing, and as +he could not command the capital for this purpose, the scheme was lost, +as far as he was concerned. The idea was however a brilliant one, and +entitled its originator to be classed among the long line of those who +have dreamed without realizing the vision, and who have sown precious +seed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> without being permitted to reap the harvest.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, artificial oil had begun to be produced in large +quantities from different minerals, principally, however, from cannel +coal, by the process of destructive distillation. This oil was refined +and deodorized, and found to be a valuable illuminator. A spirit of +inquiry and investigation was excited. It was ascertained that this +artificial oil, the product of distillation, was almost identical in its +properties with the natural oil of the valleys—that the latter might be +purified and deodorized, and if found in sufficient quantities, prove a +source of wealth to the country. The enterprise of bygone ages in the +excavation of oil pits was considered by many, but the process seemed +tedious, and, in addition, the finest portions of the oil were in danger +of passing off by evaporation.</p> + +<p>The grand idea, however, was struggling toward the light. If the oil, +now so greatly desired, bubbled up through concealed clefts in the +rocks, why might it not be discovered in large quantities by boring in +supposed localities deep into the rock that was conjectured to be its +home? And if found in some localities while boring for salt water, why +not expect to find it more certainly in localities where there were +discovered such decided 'surface appearances'?</p> + +<p>The work was finally commenced by Colonel E. L. Drake, near the upper +oil springs on Oil Creek, by boring in the rock. But it was labor +pursued under difficulties. To have announced the intention of boring +for petroleum into the bowels of the earth, would have been to provoke +mirth and ridicule. The enterprise would have appeared quite as +visionary as that of Noah to the antediluvians in building his ark +against an anticipated inundation. It was generally supposed that the +search was for salt water; and perhaps the idea was a complex one even +in the mind of the proprietor. Oil was desirable, salt was within the +reach of probability; if the former failed, the latter might probably be +secured; and if neither object was attained, the search for salt would +be considered neither visionary nor disreputable.</p> + +<p>But the work went forward, through good report and through evil report, +particularly the latter, until August 26th, 1859, when, at the depth of +seventy feet, the drill suddenly sank into a cavity in the rock, when +there was immediate evidence of the presence of oil in large quantities. +It was like the cry of 'Land ho!' amid the weary, disheartened mariners +that accompanied Columbus to the Western World. The goal had been +reached at last. A pathway had been opened up through the rocks, +leading, not to universal empire, but to realms of wealth hitherto +unknown. Providence had literally forced upon men's attention that which +should fill many dwellings with light, and many hearts with gladness.</p> + +<p>Upon withdrawing the drill from the well, the oil and water rose nearly +to the surface. The question was now to be tested whether the petroleum +would present itself in sufficient quantities to justify further +proceedings, or whether it was, like many another dream, to vanish in +darkness, or dissolve in tears. The well was tubed, and by a common hand +pump yielded ten barrels per day. By means of a more powerful pump, +worked by a small engine, this quantity was increased to forty barrels +per day. The supply was uninterrupted, the engine working day and night, +and the question was considered settled. This oil well immediately +became the centre of attraction. It was visited by hundreds and +thousands, all eager to see for themselves, and test by actual +experiment, the wondrous stories that had been related concerning its +enormous yield, by counting the seconds that elapsed during the yield of +a single gallon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>The fortune of the valley of Oil Creek was now settled, and the prices +of land throughout its whole extent immediately became fabulous. +Sometimes entire farms were sold, but generally they were leased in very +small lots. In some cases the operator was required to give one half and +even five eighths of the product, besides a handsome bonus, to the +proprietor of the soil. The work now commenced in earnest. A tide of +speculators began to set in toward the oil region, that would have +overpowered that of California or Australia in their palmiest days.</p> + +<p>The excitement did not stop at the valley of Oil Creek. It extended down +the Alleghany to Franklin, and up the valley of French Creek, which +enters the Alleghany seven miles below the mouth of Oil Creek. Wells +were sunk at all these points, and many of them yielded from three to +forty barrels per day. In the course of the summer succeeding the first +successful experiment on Oil Creek, there were not less than two hundred +wells in different stages of progress in the town of Franklin alone. +Wells were being bored in gardens, in dooryards, and even in some cases +in the bottoms of wells from which water had been procured for household +purposes. So numerous were the tall 'derricks,' that a profane riverman +made the remark that the people of Franklin must be remarkably pious, as +almost every man seemed to be building a meeting house with a tall +steeple near his dwelling. At one time there were in Franklin fifteen +productive wells, yielding a daily aggregate of one hundred and forty +barrels. Among these were what was known as 'the celebrated Evans well.' +This was, in some respects, the most remarkable well in all the region. +It was sunk by its proprietor in the bottom of the well that had long +been used for household purposes. An humble house and lot constituted +his entire worldly possessions. The work in the well was performed +entirely by his own family. Being a blacksmith, he constructed his own +boring implements, and was dependent on no outside assistance. Patiently +and assiduously did the blacksmith and his two sons toil on, as they had +seldom toiled before, the former guiding the drill, and the latter +applying the power by hand to the simple machinery. At the depth of only +forty feet in the rock they struck a crevice that promised to pour them +out rivers of oil. In attempting to enlarge this, the drill broke, the +fragment remaining in the cavity, and defying every effort used for its +removal. The well was then tubed, and a hand pump inserted, when it was +found to yield at the rate of ten or fifteen barrels per day. +Speculation soon began to run wild, and the fortunate owner of this +well, among other propositions, received an offer of fifty thousand +dollars for his well. To all these tempting offers he persistently +returned the same reply—that he had bored that well for his own use, +and that if others wished a well, they could do as he had done.</p> + +<p>Oil was generally obtained in the valley around Franklin at the depth of +about three hundred feet from the surface, for pumping wells; in the +valley of Oil Creek the same stratum was reached at about half that +depth. In all these wells, whether successful as oil wells or not, a +strong body of salt water was obtained, that added greatly to the +facility of separating the oil by its increased gravity. Hitherto the +business had been pursued with advantage and profit to those who were +engaged. The demand was steady and prices remunerative, and visions of +untold wealth were looming up before the minds of thousands. Prospecting +was extending far and near. Every stream and ravine that deflected +toward the Alleghany or Oil Creek was leased, and in very many +unpropitious localities operations were commenced.</p> + +<p>But a change now took place in the development of oil proceedings that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +wrought ruin in the hopes of many an ardent operator. In the Oil Creek +region, some of the smaller wells having been exhausted, resort was had +to deeper boring. One hopeful theorist imagined that if the desirable +fluid came from a very great depth, it might be good policy to seek it +in a stratum still nearer its rocky home. So down he penetrated, +regardless of the 'fine show' of oil that presented itself by the way, +until at the depth of five hundred feet in the rock, a vein of mingled +gas and oil was reached that literally forced the boring implements from +the well. This sudden exodus of the implements was followed by a steady +stream of petroleum that rose to the height of sixty or seventy feet +above the surface, and was occasionally accompanied by a roaring noise +like the Geysers of Iceland.</p> + +<p>Here was a new feature in oil operations. The idea of flowing wells for +the production of petroleum, once inaugurated, was seized upon with +avidity. There was not only a spontaneous yield, but a yield in enormous +quantities. And so a pumping well was voted a slow institution, and all +parties on Oil Creek renewed the operation of boring, and, at about the +depth of the first flowing well, obtained almost uniformly like success.</p> + +<p>These flowing wells were almost as difficult to govern and regulate as +was Pegasus of old. They 'played fantastic tricks' when least expected, +throwing the oil over the workmen, and in one case, when the vein of +petroleum was suddenly opened, setting fire to the machinery, and +destroying the lives of those in the vicinity. The enormous yield of +these wells had the effect of bringing down the price of petroleum to so +low a figure that pumping wells were at once closed. They could not be +worked with profit. Hence almost the entire oil business has, for the +present at least, been confined to the valley of Oil Creek. The yield +from the flowing wells varies from fifty to two thousand barrels per +day. This, as may readily be supposed, involves the loss by wastage of +immense quantities of oil, that is scattered on the ground and runs into +the creek. So great is this waste at times, that the oil is gathered in +quantities on the surface of the Alleghany for a distance of eight or +ten miles below the mouth of Oil Creek, in the eddies, and along the +still water of the shore, and is distinctly perceptible at Pittsburg, a +distance of one hundred and forty miles from the wells.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding these wells are confined to a very narrow valley, and in +many instances in very close proximity, it is very rare that they +interfere with each other. In fact cases are known where two wells have +been bored within forty feet of each other, with the discovery of oil at +different depths, and even of different qualities, as regards color and +gravity. In some instances the well has all the characteristics of an +intermittent spring. One in particular may be specified for the +regularity of its operations. It would remain quiescent for about +fifteen minutes, when there would be heard the sound as of fearful +agitation far down in its depths. This rumbling and strife would then +appear to approach the surface for a few moments, when the petroleum +would rush forth from the orifice, mingled with gas and foam, almost +with the fury of a round shot from a rifled cannon. This furious flow +would continue for fifteen or twenty minutes, when it would suddenly +subside, and all would be peace again. This alternate rest and motion +would continue with great regularity day and night, yielding perhaps one +hundred and fifty barrels per day. In other instances, there are +interruptions of days and even weeks, when the flow will be continued as +before. In others still, the yield is steady and uninterrupted, yielding +with unvarying regularity from week to week.</p> + +<p>The oil region of Venango County, as far as has been explored, is +confined to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> the creek and river bottoms. In connection with wells that +have been opened, there is a superincumbent stratum of earth, varying +from ten to sixty feet in thickness: underlying this is a stratum of +argillaceous shale, generally about one hundred and eighty feet in +thickness, and then a stratum of white sandstone. Sometimes this +sandstone is intermingled with red, presenting a ruddy appearance as the +sand is withdrawn from the well in the process of boring.</p> + +<p>Occasionally in passing through the shale, small fissures in the rock +are passed through, with circumstances indicating the presence of a +stratum or vein of water, as at such times the sand accumulated in +boring all disappears, leaving the bits clean and bright. At other times +small veins or cavities of petroleum are pierced, the product of which +rises to the surface of the well, and indicates its presence by +appearing in the sand pump. In the earlier stages of the business this +'show of oil,' as it was termed, was considered most favorable to +ultimate success; but latterly it is not regarded as essential, as many +first-class wells have been discovered without the intermediate show; +and on the other hand, there has been many a brilliant show that has +resulted in failure and disappointment.</p> + +<p>The presence of surface oil is not always a sure criterion in deciding +upon a location for a well. Oftentimes very fine wells are opened in +localities where no oil has been found on the surface, and no appearance +of oil having been obtained at any previous time in the neighborhood. +Perhaps the most unsuccessful operations in the whole Oil Creek valley +have been in the midst of the ancient pits that have already been +alluded to. Wells have been bored in the bottom of these pits without +the least success. At a point near the bank of the Alleghany, some two +miles above Franklin, there was a well-known oil spring some forty years +ago. It supplied the family that lived near it as well as the +surrounding neighborhood with petroleum for medical and other domestic +purposes to the extent of their wants. For many years the supply has +entirely failed. During a recent excavation, at the precise spot where +it was known formerly to exist, for the purpose of laying the abutment +of a bridge, no trace of oil was found—not even a discoloration of the +earth.</p> + +<p>Of course the boring of wells has become quite an institution in the oil +region, and is carried on with great system. After selecting a site, the +first thing in order is the erection of a derrick. This is a frame in +the form of a truncated pyramid, about ten feet square at the bottom, +and five at the top, having one of its four posts pierced with rounds to +answer the purpose of a ladder, by means of which the workmen can ascend +and descend. This derrick is from twenty to thirty feet in height, and +has at its summit a pulley, by means of which the boring implements are +drawn from the well. A pit is then sunk through the earth within the +derrick, about six feet square, until the work is interrupted by water. +The remaining distance to the rock is reached by driving strong +cast-iron pipe by means of a battering ram. This pipe has a caliber of +about five inches, with walls of one inch in thickness. It is prepared +in joints of about eight feet in length, which are connected together at +the point of contact by wrought-iron bands. When the pipe reaches the +rock, the earth is removed from its cavity, and the operation of boring +is ready to be commenced. Occasionally, however, this driving operation +is interrupted by coming upon a huge bowlder. When this is the case, the +boring operation is commenced, and a hole made through the bowlder +nearly equal in size to the cavity of the pipe, when the driving is +resumed, and the pipe made to ream its way through the stone. Sometimes +in these operations the pipe is fractured, or turned aside from a +perpendicular direction, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> the place is abandoned and a new location +sought for.</p> + +<p>The boring implements do not differ materially from those used in +sinking artesian wells. As a general thing, bits of two or three sizes +are used, the first and smallest of which only has a cutting edge. If +the hole to be sunk through the rock is to be four inches in diameter, +the bits would be, first, one with a cutting edge two inches in width; +secondly, a blunt bit, three inches wide by one inch in thickness; and +lastly, by a similar bit four inches wide. These bits have a shank about +two feet in length, that is screwed into an auger stem ten or twelve +feet in length and about one inch and a half in diameter. Connected with +this auger stem is an arrangement called, technically, 'jars'—two +elongated loops of iron, working in each other like links in a chain, +that serve to jar the bit loose when it sticks fast in the process of +boring.</p> + +<p>Sometimes this auger stem is connected with wooden rods, joined together +with screws and sockets, new joints being added as the work proceeds; +but more generally the connection is with a rope or cable of about one +and a half inches in diameter. To this rope the auger stem is attached +by a clamp and screw, that can be readily shifted as the progress of the +work renders it necessary. The entire weight of these implements is from +four to six hundred pounds. The power applied is sometimes that of two +or three men working by means of a spring pole; but oftener a steam +engine of from four to eight horse power. Midway between the well and +the engine a post is planted, on which is balanced a working beam about +sixteen feet in length: one end of this beam is attached to the crank of +the engine, and the other to the implements in the well. The power is +applied to raising the bit—the blow is produced by the fall of the same +when relieved by the downward motion of the working beam.</p> + +<p>In the process of boring, the workman is seated over the well, and, by a +transverse handle attached to the machinery just above the rope, turns +the rope, and with it the bit, partially around, so that each stroke of +the bit on the rock beneath is slightly across the cut that has preceded +it. After the fore bit has proceeded about two feet, or until the work +begins to clog with sand, it is withdrawn, and the next is inserted in +its place, and the work is then finished as it goes by the last bit. The +fragments of rock that are cut away descend to the bottom of the well in +the form of sand, and are readily withdrawn by means of the sand pump. +This is a simple copper tube about six feet in length, with a diameter +something less than that of the well, and furnished at the lower end +with a simple valve opening upward. This pump is let down into the well +by a rope, and, when it reaches the bottom, is agitated for a few +moments, when the sand is forced up through the valve, and thus +withdrawn from the well, when the boring is again resumed.</p> + +<p>As the work proceeds, a register is kept by the judicious borer of the +different strata passed through, and also of the veins of water and oil +passed through, in order to the formation of an intelligent judgment in +tubing the well.</p> + +<p>As might be supposed, this operation of descending amid the rocks is not +without its difficulties and discouragements. Sometimes the bit breaks +or becomes detached from the auger stem, leaving a fragment of hardened +steel, or an entire bit, deep in the recesses of the rock. When the +latter is the case, recourse is had to divers expedients, by means of +implements armed with sockets and spring jaws, in order to entrap the +truant bit. And it is marvellous what success generally attends these +efforts to extract bits that are oftentimes two or three hundred feet +below the surface. Sometimes, however, these efforts fail, and the well +must be aban<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>doned, with all the labor and anxiety that have been +expended upon it.</p> + +<p>During the progress of the boring there is more or less carburetted +hydrogen gas set free. This supply is so abundant at times as to cause +an ebullition in the water of the well, resembling the boiling of a pot. +In the case of the flowing wells, when the vein of petroleum is reached, +the gas rushes forth with such violence, and the upward pressure is so +furious, as to force the implements from the well, and even the tubing, +when not properly secured, has been driven through the derrick in its +upward progress.</p> + +<p>After the boring has been successfully accomplished, the next operation +consists in tubing the well. This is merely the introduction of a copper +or iron chamber, extending down, or nearly so, to the vein of the oil. +This tubing is, for the pumping and larger-class flowing wells, usually +about two and a half or three inches in diameter, consisting of sections +about twenty feet in length, and connected together by means of screw +and socket joints. As there are usually many veins of water passed +through in boring, some device must be resorted to in order to shut off +this water from the oil vein and produce a vacuum. This is accomplished +by applying what is called a 'seed bag' to the tube at the point where +this stoppage is desirable. The seed bag is a tube of strong leather +some eighteen inches in length and about five inches in diameter. It is +put around the metallic tube and the lower end firmly tied around it. +From a pint to a quart of flaxseed is then poured in, and the upper end +bound rather more slightly than the lower, when the tube is sunk to its +place in the well. In a few hours the flaxseed in the sack below will +have swollen and distended the bag so as to effectually shut off all +water from above. When it is desirable to withdraw the tubing from the +well, the effort of raising it will break the slight fastening at the +upper end of the leathern sack, permitting the seed to escape and the +tube to be withdrawn without difficulty. When the well is to be pumped, +a pump barrel is placed at the lower end of the tube, with piston rods +extending to the top and attached to the working beam used in boring the +well.</p> + +<p>As the petroleum is ordinarily mixed with more or less water when +brought to the surface, it is thrown first into a tank, and the superior +gravity of the water causing it to sink to the bottom, it is drawn off +from beneath, and the petroleum placed in barrels. These tanks are of +all sizes, ranking from thirty to two thousand barrels each.</p> + +<p>For the present, wells that were formerly pumped at a profit are biding +their time; for at present prices of oil operations upon them would be +ruinous. This renders the computation of the weekly yield of the Oil +Creek region comparatively easy. There are at the present time not far +from one hundred flowing wells along the valley of the creek, producing +probably on an average about forty thousand barrels per week. A portion +of this is refined in the county, but by far the largest part is shipped +to a distance, either by the Alleghany River by way of Pittsburg, or by +the Philadelphia and Erie or Atlantic and Great Western Railroads to the +Eastern markets.</p> + +<p>The necessities of the trade have given rise to many ingenious +inventions in getting the oil to market. The wells extend along Oil +Creek for a distance of about fourteen miles from its mouth. The ground +is not favorable for land carriage, as the valley is narrow and the +stream tortuous. The creek itself is too small for navigation under +ordinary circumstances, and a railroad with steam power would be in the +highest degree dangerous. To compensate for all these difficulties, a +system of artificial navigation has been adopted. Throughout the whole +distance, at intervals of perhaps a mile, dams have been constructed +across the creek, with draws<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> in the centre, that can be easily opened +at the proper time. In this way 'pond freshets' are arranged one or two +days in a week. By the appointed time, all persons having oil to run out +of the creek have their boats ready, and as the water from the upper dam +raises the creek below, the fleet of boats sets out. Each successive dam +raises the water to a higher level, and as the fleet proceeds, small at +first, it increases until, as it approaches the river, it often numbers +two hundred boats, bearing with them not less than ten thousand barrels +of petroleum.</p> + +<p>The advent of this fleet of boats to the mouth of the creek is in the +highest degree exciting. As boat after boat rushes into the river, there +is the dashing to and fro of the boatmen, and the shouts of the +multitude on the shore. Here and there a collision occurs that often +results in the crushing of the feebler boat, and the indiscriminate +mingling of boatmen, fragments of the broken craft, oil, and fixtures in +one common ruin. In this fleet the form and variety of boats beggars all +description. Sometimes there is the orthodox flatboat, filled with +iron-bound barrels, with an air of respectability hovering around it. +Next will follow a rude scow, and close upon it an unwieldy 'bulk,' into +which the oil has been pumped at the well. After this, perhaps, may be +seen a rude nondescript, that surely was never dreamed of outside the +oil region. It consists of a series of rough ladders, constructed of +tall saplings. Between each pair of rounds in these ladders is placed a +barrel of oil, floating in the water, but kept in position by its +hamper. A number of these ladders are lashed together, until the float +contains two or three hundred barrels of oil.</p> + +<p>The bulks spoken of are about sixteen feet square and two or three feet +in depth, divided internally into bulk-heads of perhaps four feet +square, to prevent any undue agitation of the oil by the motion of the +boat, and are sometimes decked over. These unpromising boats, as well as +the ladder floats, are, during favorable weather, often run to Pittsburg +with entire safety. Steamboats, however, run up to the mouth of Oil +Creek during the time of high water, and afford the safest and most +expeditious means of transportation.</p> + +<p>As to the abundance of the supply in this region, there can be but +little doubt. Wells seem at times to become exhausted, but it is from +local causes. At times a cavity may be tapped that has been supplied +from a very small avenue, and may be readily exhausted, but exhausted +only to be refilled again. The fact that wells do not interfere with +each other, even when but fifty feet apart, is evidence that the supply +is not confined to a limited stratum, but is drawn from the great deeps +beneath. The existence of the ancient oil pits, before alluded to, +assures us that the supply has been continued for centuries; and +observation confirms this, as we have noticed the hitherto unused +treasure bubbling up silently through the crevices in the rocks and +gradually evaporating amid the sands, or arising in the beds of the +streams and floating down upon their surface. The history of the +petroleum trade in other lands encourages us as to the abundance of the +supply in our own. In the northern part of Italy, petroleum has been +collected for more than two hundred years, without any intimation that +the supply is being exhausted. In Burmah a supply has been drawn from +the earth for an unknown period, and so far are these wells from +exhaustion that they yield at the present time over twenty-five millions +of gallons per annum. We may well suppose, then, that the treasure +brought to light in such abundance in our day will not be readily +exhausted—that as the coals are found in illimitable abundance for fuel +as the forests fail, petroleum for illuminating purposes will be found +in like profusion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>We have said that the petroleum trade has known no infancy, but has +sprung at once into maturity. The oil wells of Venango County alone +produced, during the first year of their operation, more oil than the +entire product of the whale fisheries during the most favorable and +prosperous year in their history. At the present time, after a lapse of +little more than two years, the daily product of the wells on Oil Creek +alone is computed to be over six thousand barrels. And in this +neighborhood the quantity might be wellnigh doubled, were it not for the +low price the product commands.</p> + +<p>Petroleum differs in its characteristics in different localities. It is +usually heavier in the shallow wells than in those that are deeper. +Ordinarily it is of a greenish hue, that changes to a reddish as the oil +becomes lighter and more evaporative. It is all characterized by a +strong and pungent odor peculiar to itself. The gravity of the various +kinds of oil is ascertained by the oleometer. The lighter oils are found +on Oil Creek, and are about 40° to 46° Baumé; at Franklin, from 30° to +32°.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to speak of the uses of petroleum at the present time, +for these uses have not yet been fully developed. In its refined state +it is preëminent as an illuminator. In this character it yields the palm +to gas in matters of convenience and neatness, but is superior to it on +the score of general adaptation and economy. Besides, the quality of the +light is superior to that of gas, being soft, mild, tranquil, and +exceedingly white. In the rural districts, where coal gas is +impracticable, it would be an intolerable calamity to be obliged to +return to the use of the old tallow candle that was the main dependence +in years gone by. As an article of fuel, it has been used to some extent +in the oil regions, but the appliances have been so rude that its use +has not been general. When proper machinery shall have been invented, no +doubt it will be a most important item of fuel in ocean navigation as +well as in railway travel, conducing alike to economy of space and to +ease of manipulation.</p> + +<p>In the manufacture of gas it has already been brought into successful +use, both in this country and in England, and has been found most +valuable alike in the quality of the product and in the economy of its +production.</p> + +<p>As a medicinal agent it has long been employed in this country. It was +used by the Indians in this way when the country was first discovered. +It was also held in high estimation by the early settlers in what are +now called the oil regions, for the medication of cuts and bruises, as +well as an internal curative. It formed the staple of the British and +American oils that were sold largely and at high rates throughout the +country. It is a remarkable fact that since the quantity has increased +so largely the popular faith has been correspondingly weakened in its +medical efficacy.</p> + +<p>Further uses are developed in the process of refining. This latter is +exceedingly simple. The crude oil is placed in an iron retort connected +with a coil of pipe in a vessel of cold water. Heat is then applied to +the retort, when the process of distillation commences. The first +product is a light-colored, volatile substance, sometimes called +naphtha, that is very explosive. This substance is used in the place of +spirits of turpentine in the preparation of paints and varnishes, and, +after further treatment, in removing paints and grease from clothing. +The next product from the retort is the refined fluid for illumination. +This is of a yellow color, with a bluish tinge and powerful odor, +requiring further treatment before it is ready for the lamp. This +treatment consists in placing it in a cistern lined with lead, and +agitating it with a portion of sulphuric acid. The acid and impurities +having subsided, the oil is drawn off, and further agitated with soda +lye, and finally with water, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> it is ready for use. After this a +coarse oil for the lubrication of machinery is produced. Paraffine is +another product resulting from this distillation. It is a white, +tasteless, and inodorous substance, used in the manufacture of candles. +The residuum in the retort may be applied to various useful purposes. It +is sometimes used as fuel, and sometimes takes the place of coal tar in +the arts, and by chemical processes is made to yield products useful in +the laboratory and in the manufactory.</p> + +<p>But the æsthetics connected with this distillation must not be passed by +in silence. On a bright, sunshiny day we see a bright globule of +petroleum rising from the bottom of the stream. As it reaches the +surface of the water it disperses, and, as it glides away, all the +colors of the rainbow are reflected from its undulating surface.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'What radiant changes strike th' astonished sight!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">What glowing hues of mingled shade and light!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Not equal beauties gild the lucid west</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">With parting beams o'er all profusely drest,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Not lovelier colors paint the vernal dawn,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">When Orient dews impearl th' enamelled lawn,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Than in its waves in bright suffusion flow,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">That now with gold empyreal seem to glow;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Now in pellucid sapphires meet the view,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">And emulate the soft celestial hue;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">Now beams a flaming crimson on the eye,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">And now assume the purple's deeper dye.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">But here description clouds each shining ray—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.3em;">What terms of art can Nature's powers display?'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>We gaze upon those colors, ever changing in their lustre and variety, +until imagination revels in its most delightful dreams, suggesting +thoughts of the good and beautiful, and reminding how beauty lingers +amid the most unpromising things of earth! And just as the bow that +spans the mantling cloud reminds us of all beautiful things that glow +around its antitype that spans the emerald throne on high, so, as we +gaze upon the prismatic tints that are reflected from the oily surface, +we dream of all that is beautiful in color and gorgeous in tinted +radiance, as being hidden amid the elements of petroleum.</p> + +<p>This dream has its fulfilment amid the processes of distillation and +treatment. One product in these processes is called aniline, that is, +the base of those beautiful colors so popular with ladies these last +days—Mauve, Magenta, and Solferino. And in process of time, no doubt, +the most delicate colors for flower and landscape painting will be +educed, that will give a new impetus to the fine arts, and to the +development of taste in our midst.</p> + +<p>And now where shall we look for the origin of this treasure? From what +elements is it elaborated? We cannot go with the great Chemist to his +laboratory and look upon the ingredients, and notice the treatment used +there. Science, although denominated the 'star eyed,' cannot penetrate +the mighty strata of everlasting rocks that lie beneath us, and reveal +to us these mysteries of nature. 'There is a path which no fowl knoweth, +and which the vulture's eye hath not seen: the lion's whelps have not +trodden it, nor the fierce lion passed by it. He putteth forth His hand +upon the rock; he overturneth the mountains by the roots. He cutteth out +rivers among the rocks; and His eye seeth every precious thing. He +bindeth the floods from overflowing; and the thing that is hid, bringeth +He forth to light.'</p> + +<p>Nature has her mysteries. The earth has its great secrets. But over all, +a God of wisdom and goodness presides. Age after age has rolled +by—change after change has agitated the history of Time, as forms of +beauty have been moulded and marred—as songs of joy have been sung, and +requiems of sadness chanted in the great highways and quiet bypaths of +life—the living of bygone ages are slumbering quietly in the dust, and +the living of the present are hurrying to the same 'pale realms of +shade.' The nations of antiquity have passed off the stage with all +their gran<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>deur and littleness, and the nations of more modern times are +surging and dashing to and fro, like ships in the wild chaos of ocean's +storms. God alone is great!</p> + +<p>Changes, too, have been quietly going on beneath us in the earth's +bosom. A great dream of science, but perhaps an earnest, glowing +reality, suggests that when God's almighty power was rolling away the +curtains of darkness from earth's chaotic state—forming channels for +oceans and rivers, and heaving up as barriers the mountain chains of +earth, His eternal prescience of man's coming need induced Him to bury +deep down in subterranean recesses the imperfect vegetable organisms of +a pre-Adamic state, that in the ages to come, coals and oils and gases +might be drawn forth to supply his wants.</p> + +<p>We find in the coal deposits traces of ferns and leaves of gigantic +stature and proportions. Casts of huge boles of trees are found among +our fossils, inducing the belief that in some bygone age quantities of +vegetable matter, absolutely enormous, were produced on the earth's +surface. And it is presumable that in some of the revolutions that have +agitated our planet, renovating, improving, and fitting it for a higher +order of life, mighty deposits of this vegetable matter were buried up +amid the rocky strata, to be evolved in new forms and products. And it +may be that since the days of Adam this vegetable deposit has been +undergoing the process of destructive distillation in the hidden regions +beneath. In this process heat would not be wanting: it is furnished by +the natural constitution of the earth.</p> + +<p>Says Professor Hitchcock:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Wherever in Europe or America the temperature of the air, water, +rocks, in deep excavations, has been ascertained, it has been found +higher than the mean temperature of the climate at the surface, and +experiments have been made at hundreds of places; it is found that +the heat of the earth increases rapidly as we descend below that +point in the earth's crust to which the sun's heat extends. The +mean rate of increase of heat has been stated by the British +Association to be one degree of Fahrenheit's thermometer for every +forty-five feet: at this rate all the known rocks in the earth +would be melted at a depth of sixty miles.'</p></div> + +<p>Here, then, are all the conditions necessary to the production of +petroleum. The vegetable deposit was made amid the rocks—we know not +when; internal heat has been decomposing that matter, and setting free +its gases; these again have been condensed as they approached the +surface, and have filled up the cavities, and accumulated amid the +rocks, until in these last days the earth has literally poured us out +rivers of oil.</p> + +<p>Still all this is mere speculation. The hidden path yet remains +unexplored. It may always remain so; but we have the great fact of +Divine providence in the rich and copious supply, that is none the less +valuable because it flows from an unknown source, and comes to us +through unexplored channels.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ANGELS_OF_WAR" id="THE_ANGELS_OF_WAR"></a>THE ANGELS OF WAR.</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Two angels sat on a war-cloud, watching the din of the fight,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One was an angel of darkness, and one was an angel of light.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The first looked down and smiled, with fearful, fiendish glee:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Of all earth's sights,' he shouted, 'this is the one for me!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where is your God in heaven? and where on earth is your Christ?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What have your laws and your gospels, your churches and sabbaths sufficed—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That here in this freest land, and now in this ripest age,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Men give up reason and manhood for brutal fury and rage?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Men who have prattled of peace, of brotherhood, freedom, and right!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Here is a thirst which is deeper! See how your Christians can fight!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Louder than savages' war-whoop, fiercer than savages' ire,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">List to the din of their cannon, look on its murderous fire.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These be thy triumphs, O Freedom! Christendom, this is thy good!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Deadliest weapons of warfare, earth's reddest vintage of blood;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The fate of states and nations, the fate of freedom and right</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Staked on the nerve of a man, poised on a cannon ball's flight;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A land of widows and orphans, a land of mourning and pain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whose air is heavy with sighs, whose soil is red with the slain.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Say, Earth, art thou drawing nearer that age, the promised of yore,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When swords shall be beaten to ploughshares, and war be learned no more?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is the Prince of Peace appearing of whom your prophets tell?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lo, here is the Prince of Darkness, and here is the reign of Hell.'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the angel laughed in scorn, and said, in his fearful glee:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Aha, of all earth's sights, this is the one for me.'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The other angel spake, and his face was fair and bright,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'And of all earth's sights to me this is the noblest sight.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At the touch of a hand profane laid on its sacred things,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Countless as heaven's bright army, to arms a nation springs.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thousands of peaceful homes give up their cherished ones,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Young wives give up their bridegrooms, old mothers give their sons;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Manhood gives up its work, and eager youth its dream:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The reign of sense is over, the spirit rules supreme.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No victims of brute rage, no hirelings trained to fight,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But men in calmest manhood, fresh from the hearthstone's light.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This right arm, maimed and crippled, was dedicate to art;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All high and noble purpose beat with that pulseless heart;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pure bridal kisses linger upon this gory brow;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On those fair curls a mother's blessing rested even now:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such men,—the best and dearest, the very life of life,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Earth has no ransom for them,—have hastened to the strife.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'The nobler days have come when men must do and die,'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Methinks I hear them say, with calm, uplifted eye:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Our human lives are nothing; thy will, great God, is all;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">We come to work thy work, we have heard the heavenly call;</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy right hand holdeth chance, thy strong arm ruleth fate,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To thee, the God of battles, our lives are consecrate.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Not at the foeman's call, not to the foeman's sword,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But we come at the disposal and the summons of the Lord.'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'This,' said the second angel, and his smile was fair to see,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Of all the sights on earth is the noblest one to me;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No brutelike men are these, nay, rather to my eyes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Men raised to angels' heights of calm self-sacrifice.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet he wept, and weeping prayed, 'Oh, may these sons of men</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Keep faith and strength and patience, till thou comest, Christ, again!'</span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_TRAGEDY_OF_ERROR" id="A_TRAGEDY_OF_ERROR"></a>A TRAGEDY OF ERROR.</h2> + +<h3>I.</h3> + + +<p>A low English phaeton was drawn up before the door of the post office of +a French seaport town. In it was seated a lady, with her veil down and +her parasol held closely over her face. My story begins with a gentleman +coming out of the office and handing her a letter.</p> + +<p>He stood beside the carriage a moment before getting in. She gave him +her parasol to hold, and then lifted her veil, showing a very pretty +face. This couple seemed to be full of interest for the passers by, most +of whom stared hard and exchanged significant glances. Such persons as +were looking on at the moment saw the lady turn very pale as her eyes +fell on the direction of the letter. Her companion saw it too, and +instantly stepping into the place beside her, took up the reins, and +drove rapidly along the main street of the town, past the harbor, to an +open road skirting the sea. Here he slackened pace. The lady was leaning +back, with her veil down again, and the letter lying open in her lap. +Her attitude was almost that of unconsciousness, and he could see that +her eyes were closed. Having satisfied himself of this, he hastily +possessed himself of the letter, and read as follows:<br /><br /></p> + + +<p class='author'> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;" class="smcap">Southampton</span>, <i>July 16th, 18—.</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Hortense</span>: You will see by my postmark that I am a +thousand leagues nearer home than when I last wrote, but I have hardly +time to explain the change. M. P—— has given me a most unlooked-for +<i>congé</i>. After so many months of separation, we shall be able to spend a +few weeks together. God be praised! We got in here from New York this +morning, and I have had the good luck to find a vessel, the <i>Armorique</i>, +which sails straight for H——. The mail leaves directly, but we shall +probably be detained a few hours by the tide; so this will reach you a +day before I arrive: the master calculates we shall get in early +Thursday morning. Ah, Hortense! how the time drags! Three whole days. If +I did not write from New York, it is because I was unwilling to torment +you with an expectancy which, as it is, I venture to hope, you will find +long enough. Farewell. To a warmer greeting!</p> +<p class='author'>Your devoted C.B.<br /><br /></p> + +<p>When the gentleman replaced the paper on his companion's lap, his face +was almost as pale as hers. For a moment he gazed fixedly and vacantly +before him, and a half-suppressed curse escaped his lips. Then his eyes +reverted to his neighbor. After some hesitation, during which he allowed +the reins to hang so loose that the horse lapsed into a walk, he touched +her gently on the shoulder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Well, Hortense,' said he, in a very pleasant tone, 'what's the matter; +have you fallen asleep?'</p> + +<p>Hortense slowly opened her eyes, and, seeing that they had left the town +behind them, raised her veil. Her features were stiffened with horror.</p> + +<p>'Read that,' said she, holding out the open letter.</p> + +<p>The gentleman took it, and pretended to read it again.</p> + +<p>'Ah! M. Bernier returns. Delightful!' he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>'How, delightful?' asked Hortense; 'we mustn't jest at so serious a +crisis, my friend.'</p> + +<p>'True,' said the other, 'it will be a solemn meeting. Two years of +absence is a great deal.'</p> + +<p>'O Heaven! I shall never dare to face him,' cried Hortense, bursting +into tears.</p> + +<p>Covering her face with one hand, she put out the other toward that of +her friend. But he was plunged in so deep a reverie, that he did not +perceive the movement. Suddenly he came to, aroused by her sobs.</p> + +<p>'Come, come,' said he, in the tone of one who wishes to coax another +into mistrust of a danger before which he does not himself feel so +secure but that the sight of a companion's indifference will give him +relief. 'What if he does come? He need learn nothing. He will stay but a +short time, and sail away again as unsuspecting as he came.'</p> + +<p>'Learn nothing! You surprise me. Every tongue that greets him, if only +to say <i>bon jour</i>, will wag to the tune of a certain person's +misconduct.'</p> + +<p>'Bah! People don't think about us quite as much as you fancy. You and I, +<i>n'est-ce-pas</i>? we have little time to concern ourselves about our +neighbors' failings. Very well, other people are in the same box, better +or worse. When a ship goes to pieces on those rocks out at sea, the poor +devils who are pushing their way to land on a floating spar, don't +bestow many glances on those who are battling with the waves beside +them. Their eyes are fastened to the shore, and all their care is for +their own safety. In life we are all afloat on a tumultuous sea; we are +all struggling toward some <i>terra firma</i> of wealth or love or leisure. +The roaring of the waves we kick up about us and the spray we dash into +our eyes deafen and blind us to the sayings and doings of our fellows. +Provided we climb high and dry, what do we care for them?'</p> + +<p>'Ay, but if we don't? When we've lost hope ourselves, we want to make +others sink. We hang weights about their necks, and dive down into the +dirtiest pools for stones to cast at them. My friend, you don't feel the +shots which are not aimed at you. It isn't of you the town talks, but of +me: a poor woman throws herself off the pier yonder, and drowns before a +kind hand has time to restrain her, and her corpse floats over the water +for all the world to look at. When her husband comes up to see what the +crowd means, is there any lack of kind friends to give him the good news +of his wife's death?'</p> + +<p>'As long as a woman is light enough to float, Hortense, she is not +counted drowned. It's only when she sinks out of sight that they give +her up.'</p> + +<p>Hortense was silent a moment, looking at the sea with swollen eyes.</p> + +<p>'Louis,' she said at last, 'we were speaking metaphorically: I have half +a mind to drown myself literally.'</p> + +<p>'Nonsense!' replied Louis; 'an accused pleads 'not guilty,' and hangs +himself in prison. What do the papers say? People talk, do they? Can't +you talk as well as they? A woman is in the wrong from the moment she +holds her tongue and refuses battle. And that you do too often. That +pocket handkerchief is always more or less of a flag of truce.'</p> + +<p>'I'm sure I don't know,' said Hortense indifferently; 'perhaps it is.'</p> + +<p>There are moments of grief in which certain aspects of the subject of +our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> distress seems as irrelevant as matters entirely foreign to it. Her +eyes were still fastened on the sea. There was another silence. 'O my +poor Charles!' she murmured, at length, 'to what a hearth do you +return!'</p> + +<p>'Hortense,' said the gentleman, as if he had not heard her, although, to +a third person, it would have appeared that it was because he had done +so that he spoke: 'I do not need to tell you that it will never happen +to me to betray our secret. But I will answer for it that so long as M. +Bernier is at home no mortal shall breathe a syllable of it.'</p> + +<p>'What of that?' sighed Hortense. 'He will not be with me ten minutes +without guessing it.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, as for that,' said her companion, dryly, 'that's your own affair.'</p> + +<p>'Monsieur de Meyrau!' cried the lady.</p> + +<p>'It seems to me,' continued the other, 'that in making such a guarantee, +I have done my part of the business.'</p> + +<p>'Your part of the business!' sobbed Hortense.</p> + +<p>M. de Meyrau made no reply, but with a great cut of the whip sent the +horse bounding along the road. Nothing more was said. Hortense lay back +in the carriage with her face buried in her handkerchief, moaning. Her +companion sat upright, with contracted brows and firmly set teeth, +looking straight before him, and by an occasional heavy lash keeping the +horse at a furious pace. A wayfarer might have taken him for a ravisher +escaping with a victim worn out with resistance. Travellers to whom they +were known would perhaps have seen a deep meaning in this accidental +analogy. So, by a <i>détour</i>, they returned to the town.</p> + +<p>When Hortense reached home, she went straight up to a little boudoir on +the second floor, and shut herself in. This room was at the back of the +house, and her maid, who was at that moment walking in the long garden +which stretched down to the water, where there was a landing place for +small boats, saw her draw in the window blind and darken the room, still +in her bonnet and cloak. She remained alone for a couple of hours. At +five o'clock, some time after the hour at which she was usually summoned +to dress her mistress for the evening, the maid knocked at Hortense's +door, and offered her services. Madame called out, from within, that she +had a <i>migraine</i>, and would not be dressed.</p> + +<p>'Can I get anything for madame?' asked Josephine; 'a <i>tisane</i>, a warm +drink, something?'</p> + +<p>'Nothing, nothing.'</p> + +<p>'Will madame dine?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'Madame had better not go wholly without eating.'</p> + +<p>'Bring me a bottle of wine—of brandy.'</p> + +<p>Josephine obeyed. When she returned, Hortense was standing in the +doorway, and as one of the shutters had meanwhile been thrown open, the +woman could see that, although her mistress's hat had been tossed upon +the sofa, her cloak had not been removed, and that her face was very +pale. Josephine felt that she might not offer sympathy nor ask +questions.</p> + +<p>'Will madame have nothing more?' she ventured to say, as she handed her +the tray.</p> + +<p>Madame shook her head, and closed and locked the door.</p> + +<p>Josephine stood a moment vexed, irresolute, listening. She heard no +sound. At last she deliberately stooped down and applied her eye to the +key-hole.</p> + +<p>This is what she saw:</p> + +<p>Her mistress had gone to the open window, and stood with her back to the +door, looking out at the sea. She held the bottle by the neck in one +hand, which hung listlessly by her side; the other was resting on a +glass half filled with water, standing, together with an open letter, on +a table beside her. She kept this position until Josephine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> began to +grow tired of waiting. But just as she was about to arise in despair of +gratifying her curiosity, madame raised the bottle and glass, and filled +the latter full. Josephine looked more eagerly. Hortense held it a +moment against the light, and then drained it down.</p> + +<p>Josephine could not restrain an involuntary whistle. But her surprise +became amazement when she saw her mistress prepare to take a second +glass. Hortense put it down, however, before its contents were half +gone, as if struck by a sudden thought, and hurried across the room. She +stooped down before a cabinet, and took out a small opera glass. With +this she returned to the window, put it to her eyes, and again spent +some moments in looking seaward. The purpose of this proceeding +Josephine could not make out. The only result visible to her was that +her mistress suddenly dropped the lorgnette on the table, and sank down +on an armchair, covering her face with her hands.</p> + +<p>Josephine could contain her wonderment no longer. She hurried down to +the kitchen.</p> + +<p>'Valentine,' said she to the cook, 'what on earth can be the matter with +Madame? She will have no dinner, she is drinking brandy by the glassful, +a moment ago she was looking out to sea with a lorgnette, and now she is +crying dreadfully with an open letter in her lap.'</p> + +<p>The cook looked up from her potato-peeling with a significant wink.</p> + +<p>'What can it be,' said she, 'but that monsieur returns?'</p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>II.</h3> + +<p>At six o'clock, Josephine and Valentine were still sitting together, +discussing the probable causes and consequences of the event hinted at +by the latter. Suddenly Madame Bernier's bell rang. Josephine was only +too glad to answer it. She met her mistress descending the stairs, +combed, cloaked, and veiled, with no traces of agitation, but a very +pale face.</p> + +<p>'I am going out,' said Madame Bernier; 'if M. le Vicomte comes, tell him +I am at my mother-in-law's, and wish him to wait till I return.'</p> + +<p>Josephine opened the door, and let her mistress pass; then stood +watching her as she crossed the court.</p> + +<p>'Her mother-in-law's,' muttered the maid; 'she has the face!'</p> + +<p>When Hortense reached the street, she took her way, not through the +town, to the ancient quarter where that ancient lady, her husband's +mother, lived, but in a very different direction. She followed the +course of the quay, beside the harbor, till she entered a crowded +region, chiefly the residence of fishermen and boatmen. Here she raised +her veil. Dusk was beginning to fall. She walked as if desirous to +attract as little observation as possible, and yet to examine narrowly +the population in the midst of which she found herself. Her dress was so +plain that there was nothing in her appearance to solicit attention; +yet, if for any reason a passer by had happened to notice her, he could +not have helped being struck by the contained intensity with which she +scrutinized every figure she met. Her manner was that of a person +seeking to recognize a long-lost friend, or perhaps, rather, a long-lost +enemy, in a crowd. At last she stopped before a flight of steps, at the +foot of which was a landing place for half a dozen little boats, +employed to carry passengers between the two sides of the port, at times +when the drawbridge above was closed for the passage of vessels. While +she stood she was witness of the following scene:</p> + +<p>A man, in a red woollen fisherman's cap, was sitting on the top of the +steps, smoking the short stump of a pipe, with his face to the water. +Happening to turn about, his eye fell on a little child, hurrying along +the quay toward a dingy tenement close at hand, with a jug in its arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Hullo, youngster!' cried the man; 'what have you got there? Come here.'</p> + +<p>The little child looked back, but, instead of obeying, only quickened +its walk.</p> + +<p>'The devil take you, come here!' repeated the man, angrily, 'or I'll +wring your beggarly neck. You won't obey your own uncle, eh?'</p> + +<p>The child stopped, and ruefully made its way to its relative, looking +around several times toward the house, as if to appeal to some counter +authority.</p> + +<p>'Come, make haste!' pursued the man, 'or I shall go and fetch you. +Move!'</p> + +<p>The child advanced to within half a dozen paces of the steps, and then +stood still, eyeing the man cautiously, and hugging the jug tight.</p> + +<p>'Come on, you little beggar, come up close.'</p> + +<p>The youngster kept a stolid silence, however, and did not budge. +Suddenly its self-styled uncle leaned forward, swept out his arm, +clutched hold of its little sunburnt wrist, and dragged it toward him.</p> + +<p>'Why didn't you come when you were called?' he asked, running his +disengaged hand into the infant's frowsy mop of hair, and shaking its +head until it staggered. 'Why didn't you come, you unmannerly little +brute, eh?—eh?—eh?' accompanying every interrogation with a renewed +shake.</p> + +<p>The child made no answer. It simply and vainly endeavored to twist its +neck around under the man's grip, and transmit some call for succor to +the house.</p> + +<p>'Come, keep your head straight. Look at me, and answer me. What's in +that jug? Don't lie.'</p> + +<p>'Milk.'</p> + +<p>'Who for?'</p> + +<p>'Granny.'</p> + +<p>'Granny be hanged.'</p> + +<p>The man disengaged his hands, lifted the jug from the child's feeble +grasp, tilted it toward the light, surveyed its contents, put it to his +lips, and exhausted them. The child, although liberated, did not +retreat. It stood watching its uncle drink until he lowered the jug. +Then, as he met its eyes, it said:</p> + +<p>'It was for the baby.'</p> + +<p>For a moment the man was irresolute. But the child seemed to have a +foresight of the parental resentment, for it had hardly spoken when it +darted backward and scampered off, just in time to elude a blow from the +jug, which the man sent clattering at its heels. When it was out of +sight, he faced about to the water again, and replaced the pipe between +his teeth with a heavy scowl and a murmur that sounded to Madame Bernier +very like—'I wish the baby'd choke.'</p> + +<p>Hortense was a mute spectator of this little drama. When it was over, +she turned around, and retraced her steps twenty yards with her hand to +her head. Then she walked straight back, and addressed the man.</p> + +<p>'My good man,' she said, in a very pleasant voice, 'are you the master +of one of these boats?'</p> + +<p>He looked up at her. In a moment the pipe was out of his mouth, and a +broad grin in its place. He rose, with his hand to his cap.</p> + +<p>'I am, madame, at your service.'</p> + +<p>'Will you take me to the other side?'</p> + +<p>'You don't need a boat; the bridge is closed,' said one of his comrades +at the foot of the steps, looking that way.</p> + +<p>'I know it,' said Madame Bernier; 'but I wish to go to the cemetery, and +a boat will save me half a mile walking.'</p> + +<p>'The cemetery is shut at this hour.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Allons</i>, leave madame alone,' said the man first spoken to. 'This way, +my lady.'</p> + +<p>Hortense seated herself in the stern of the boat. The man took the +sculls.</p> + +<p>'Straight across?' he asked.</p> + +<p>Hortense looked around her. 'It's a fine evening,' said she; 'suppose +you row me out to the lighthouse, and leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> me at the point nearest the +cemetery on our way back.'</p> + +<p>'Very well,' rejoined the boatman; 'fifteen sous,' and began to pull +lustily.</p> + +<p>'<i>Allez</i>, I'll pay you well,' said Madame.</p> + +<p>'Fifteen sous is the fare,' insisted the man.</p> + +<p>'Give me a pleasant row, and I'll give you a hundred,' said Hortense.</p> + +<p>Her companion said nothing. He evidently wished to appear not to have +heard her remark. Silence was probably the most dignified manner of +receiving a promise too munificent to be anything but a jest.</p> + +<p>For some time this silence was maintained, broken only by the trickling +of the oars and the sounds from the neighboring shores and vessels. +Madame Bernier was plunged in a sidelong scrutiny of her ferryman's +countenance. He was a man of about thirty-five. His face was dogged, +brutal, and sullen. These indications were perhaps exaggerated by the +dull monotony of his exercise. The eyes lacked a certain rascally gleam +which had appeared in them when he was so <i>empressé</i> with the offer of +his services. The face was better then—that is, if vice is better than +ignorance. We say a countenance is 'lit up' by a smile; and indeed that +momentary flicker does the office of a candle in a dark room. It sheds a +ray upon the dim upholstery of our souls. The visages of poor men, +generally, know few alternations. There is a large class of human beings +whom fortune restricts to a single change of expression, or, perhaps, +rather to a single expression. Ah me! the faces which wear either +nakedness or rags; whose repose is stagnation, whose activity vice; +ingorant at their worst, infamous at their best!</p> + +<p>'Don't pull too hard,' said Hortense at last. 'Hadn't you better take +breath a moment?'</p> + +<p>'Madame is very good,' said the man, leaning upon his oars. 'But if you +had taken me by the hour,' he added, with a return of the vicious grin, +'you wouldn't catch me loitering.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose you work very hard,' said Madame Bernier.</p> + +<p>The man gave a little toss of his head, as if to intimate the inadequacy +of any supposition to grasp the extent of his labors.</p> + +<p>'I've been up since four o'clock this morning, wheeling bales and boxes +on the quay, and plying my little boat. Sweating without five minutes' +intermission. <i>C'est comme ça</i>. Sometimes I tell my mate I think I'll +take a plunge in the basin to dry myself. Ha! ha! ha!'</p> + +<p>'And of course you gain little,' said Madame Bernier.</p> + +<p>'Worse than nothing. Just what will keep me fat enough for starvation to +feed on.'</p> + +<p>'How? you go without your necessary food?'</p> + +<p>'Necessary is a very elastic word, madame. You can narrow it down, so +that in the degree above nothing it means luxury. My necessary food is +sometimes thin air. If I don't deprive myself of that, it's because I +can't.'</p> + +<p>'Is it possible to be so unfortunate?'</p> + +<p>'Shall I tell you what I have eaten to-day?'</p> + +<p>'Do,' said Madame Bernier.</p> + +<p>'A piece of black bread and a salt herring are all that have passed my +lips for twelve hours.'</p> + +<p>'Why don't you get some better work?'</p> + +<p>'If I should die to-night,' pursued the boatman, heedless of the +question, in the manner of a man whose impetus on the track of self-pity +drives him past the signal flags of relief, 'what would there be left to +bury me? These clothes I have on might buy me a long box. For the cost +of this shabby old suit, that hasn't lasted me a twelve-month, I could +get one that I wouldn't wear out in a thousand years. <i>La bonne idée!</i>'</p> + +<p>'Why don't you get some work that pays better?' repeated Hortense.</p> + +<p>The man dipped his oars again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Work that pays better? I must work for work. I must earn that too. Work +is wages. I count the promise of the next week's employment the best +part of my Saturday night's pocketings. Fifty casks rolled from the ship +to the storehouse mean two things: thirty sous and fifty more to roll +the next day. Just so a crushed hand, or a dislocated shoulder, mean +twenty francs to the apothecary and <i>bon jour</i> to my business.'</p> + +<p>'Are you married?' asked Hortense.</p> + +<p>'No, I thank you. I'm not cursed with that blessing. But I've an old +mother, a sister, and three nephews, who look to me for support. The old +woman's too old to work; the lass is too lazy, and the little ones are +too young. But they're none of them too old or young to be hungry, +<i>allez</i>. I'll be hanged if I'm not a father to them all.'</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The man had resumed rowing. Madame Bernier sat +motionless, still examining her neighbor's physiognomy. The sinking sun, +striking full upon his face, covered it with an almost lurid glare. Her +own features being darkened against the western sky, the direction of +them was quite indistinguishable to her companion.</p> + +<p>'Why don't you leave the place?' she said at last.</p> + +<p>'Leave it! how?' he replied, looking up with the rough avidity with +which people of his class receive proposals touching their interests, +extending to the most philanthropic suggestions that mistrustful +eagerness with which experience has taught them to defend their own side +of a bargain—the only form of proposal that she has made them +acquainted with.</p> + +<p>'Go somewhere else,' said Hortense.</p> + +<p>'Where, for instance!'</p> + +<p>'To some new country—America.'</p> + +<p>The man burst into a loud laugh. Madame Bernier's face bore more +evidence of interest in the play of his features than of that +discomfiture which generally accompanies the consciousness of ridicule.</p> + +<p>'There's a lady's scheme for you! If you'll write for furnished +apartments, <i>là-bas</i>, I don't desire anything better. But no leaps in +the dark for me. America and Algeria are very fine words to cram into an +empty stomach when you're lounging in the sun, out of work, just as you +stuff tobacco into your pipe and let the smoke curl around your head. +But they fade away before a cutlet and a bottle of wine. When the earth +grows so smooth and the air so pure that you can see the American coast +from the pier yonder, then I'll make up my bundle. Not before.'</p> + +<p>'You're afraid, then, to risk anything?'</p> + +<p>'I'm afraid of nothing, <i>moi</i>. But I am not a fool either. I don't want +to kick away my <i>sabots</i> till I am certain of a pair of shoes. I can go +barefoot here. I don't want to find water where I counted on land. As +for America, I've been there already.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! you've been there?'</p> + +<p>'I've been to Brazil and Mexico and California and the West Indies.'</p> + +<p>'Ah!'</p> + +<p>'I've been to Asia, too.'</p> + +<p>'Ah!'</p> + +<p>'<i>Pardio</i>, to China and India. Oh, I've seen the world! I've been three +times around the Cape.'</p> + +<p>'You've been a seaman then?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, ma'am; fourteen years.'</p> + +<p>'On what ship?'</p> + +<p>'Bless your heart, on fifty ships.'</p> + +<p>'French?'</p> + +<p>'French and English and Spanish; mostly Spanish.'</p> + +<p>'Ah?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, and the more fool I was.'</p> + +<p>'How so?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, it was a dog's life. I'd drown any dog that would play half the +mean tricks I used to see.'</p> + +<p>'And you never had a hand in any yourself?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Pardon</i>, I gave what I got. I was as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> good a Spaniard and as great a +devil as any. I carried my knife with the best of them, and drew it as +quickly, and plunged it as deep. I've got scars, if you weren't a lady. +But I'd warrant to find you their mates on a dozen Spanish hides!'</p> + +<p>He seemed to pull with renewed vigor at the recollection. There was a +short silence.</p> + +<p>'Do you suppose,' said Madame Bernier, in a few moments—'do you +remember—that is, can you form any idea whether you ever killed a man?'</p> + +<p>There was a momentary slackening of the boatman's oars. He gave a sharp +glance at his passenger's countenance, which was still so shaded by her +position, however, as to be indistinguishable. The tone of her +interrogation had betrayed a simple, idle curiosity. He hesitated a +moment, and then gave one of those conscious, cautious, dubious smiles, +which may cover either a criminal assumption of more than the truth or a +guilty repudiation of it.</p> + +<p>'<i>Mon Dieu!</i>' said he, with a great shrug, 'there's a question!... I +never killed one without a reason.'</p> + +<p>'Of course not,' said Hortense.</p> + +<p>'Though a reason in South America, <i>ma foi!</i>' added the boatman, +'wouldn't be a reason here.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose not. What would be a reason there?'</p> + +<p>'Well, if I killed a man in Valparaiso—I don't say I did, mind—it's +because my knife went in farther than I intended.'</p> + +<p>'But why did you use it at all?'</p> + +<p>'I didn't. If I had, it would have been because he drew his against me.'</p> + +<p>'And why should he have done so?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Ventrebleu!</i> for as many reasons as there are craft in the harbor.'</p> + +<p>'For example?'</p> + +<p>'Well, that I should have got a place in a ship's company that he was +trying for.'</p> + +<p>'Such things as that? is it possible?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, for smaller things. That a lass should have given me a dozen +oranges she had promised him.'</p> + +<p>'How odd!' said Madame Bernier, with a shrill kind of laugh. 'A man who +owed you a grudge of this kind would just come up and stab you, I +suppose, and think nothing of it?'</p> + +<p>'Precisely. Drive a knife up to the hilt into your back, with an oath, +and slice open a melon with it, with a song, five minutes afterward.'</p> + +<p>'And when a person is afraid, or ashamed, or in some way unable to take +revenge himself, does he—or it may be a woman—does she, get some one +else to do it for her?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Parbleu!</i> Poor devils on the lookout for such work are as plentiful +all along the South American coast as <i>commissionaires</i> on the street +corners here.' The ferryman was evidently surprised at the fascination +possessed by this infamous topic for so lady-like a person; but having, +as you see, a very ready tongue, it is probable that his delight in +being able to give her information and hear himself talk were still +greater. 'And then down there,' he went on, 'they never forget a grudge. +If a fellow doesn't serve you one day, he'll do it another. A Spaniard's +hatred is like lost sleep—you can put it off for a time, but it will +gripe you in the end. The rascals always keep their promises to +themselves.... An enemy on shipboard is jolly fun. It's like bulls +tethered in the same field. You can't stand still half a minute except +against a wall. Even when he makes friends with you, his favors never +taste right. Messing with him is like drinking out of a pewter mug. And +so it is everywhere. Let your shadow once flit across a Spaniard's path, +and he'll always see it there. If you've never lived in any but these +damned clockworky European towns, you can't imagine the state of things +in a South American seaport—one half the population waiting round the +corner for the other half. But I don't see that it's so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> much better +here, where every man's a spy on every other. There you meet an assassin +at every turn, here a <i>sergent de ville</i>..... At all events, the life +<i>là bas</i> used to remind me, more than anything else, of sailing in a +shallow channel, where you don't know what infernal rock you may ground +on. Every man has a standing account with his neighbor, just as madame +has at her <i>fournisseur's</i>; and, <i>ma foi</i>, those are the only accounts +they settle. The master of the <i>Santiago</i> may pay me one of these days +for the pretty names I heaved after him when we parted company, but +he'll never pay me my wages.'</p> + +<p>A short pause followed this exposition of the virtues of the Spaniard.</p> + +<p>'You yourself never put a man out of the world, then?' resumed Hortense.</p> + +<p>'Oh, <i>que si</i>!.... Are you horrified?'</p> + +<p>'Not at all. I know that the thing is often justifiable.'</p> + +<p>The man was silent a moment, perhaps with surprise, for the next thing +he said was:</p> + +<p>'Madame is Spanish?'</p> + +<p>'In that, perhaps, I am,' replied Hortense.</p> + +<p>Again her companion was silent. The pause was prolonged. Madame Bernier +broke it by a question which showed that she had been following the same +train of thought.</p> + +<p>'What is sufficient ground in this country for killing a man?'</p> + +<p>The boatman sent a loud laugh over the water. Hortense drew her cloak +closer about her.</p> + +<p>'I'm afraid there is none.'</p> + +<p>'Isn't there a right of self-defence?'</p> + +<p>'To be sure there is—it's one I ought to know something about. But it's +one that <i>ces messieurs</i> at the Palais make short work with.'</p> + +<p>'In South America and those countries, when a man makes life +insupportable to you, what do you do?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Mon Dieu</i>! I suppose you kill him.'</p> + +<p>'And in France?'</p> + +<p>'I suppose you kill yourself. Ha! ha! ha!'</p> + +<p>By this time they had reached the end of the great breakwater, +terminating in a lighthouse, the limit, on one side, of the inner +harbor. The sun had set.</p> + +<p>'Here we are at the lighthouse,' said the man; 'it's growing dark. Shall +we turn?'</p> + +<p>Hortense rose in her place a few moments, and stood looking out to sea. +'Yes,' she said at last, 'you may go back—slowly.' When the boat had +headed round she resumed her old position, and put one of her hands over +the side, drawing it through the water as they moved, and gazing into +the long ripples.</p> + +<p>At last she looked up at her companion. Now that her face caught some of +the lingering light of the west, he could see that it was deathly pale.</p> + +<p>'You find it hard to get along in the world,' said she; 'I shall be very +glad to help you.'</p> + +<p>The man started, and stared a moment. Was it because this remark jarred +upon the expression which he was able faintly to discern in her eyes? +The next, he put his hand to his cap.</p> + +<p>'Madame is very kind. What will you do?'</p> + +<p>Madame Bernier returned his gaze.</p> + +<p>'I will trust you.'</p> + +<p>'Ah!'</p> + +<p>'And reward you.'</p> + +<p>'Ah? Madame has a piece of work for me?'</p> + +<p>'A piece of work,' Hortense nodded.</p> + +<p>The man said nothing, waiting apparently for an explanation. His face +wore the look of lowering irritation which low natures feel at being +puzzled.</p> + +<p>'Are you a bold man?'</p> + +<p>Light seemed to come in this question. The quick expansion of his +features answered it. You cannot touch upon certain subjects with an +inferior but by the sacrifice of the barrier which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> separates you from +him. There are thoughts and feelings and glimpses and foreshadowings of +thoughts which level all inequalities of station.</p> + +<p>'I'm bold enough,' said the boatman, 'for anything <i>you</i> want me to do.'</p> + +<p>'Are you bold enough to commit a crime?'</p> + +<p>'Not for nothing.'</p> + +<p>'If I ask you to endanger your peace of mind, to risk your personal +safety for me, it is certainly not as a favor. I will give you ten times +the weight in gold of every grain by which your conscience grows heavier +in my service.'</p> + +<p>The man gave her a long, hard look through the dim light.</p> + +<p>'I know what you want me to do,' he said at last.</p> + +<p>'Very well,' said Hortense; 'will you do it?'</p> + +<p>He continued to gaze. She met his eyes like a woman who has nothing more +to conceal.</p> + +<p>'State your case.'</p> + +<p>'Do you know a vessel named the <i>Armorique</i>, a steamer?'</p> + +<p>'Yes; it runs from Southampton.'</p> + +<p>'It will arrive to-morrow morning early. Will it be able to cross the +bar?'</p> + +<p>'No; not till noon.'</p> + +<p>'I thought so. I expect a person by it—a man.'</p> + +<p>Madame Bernier appeared unable to continue, as if her voice had given +way.</p> + +<p>'Well, well?' said her companion.</p> + +<p>'He's the person'—she stopped again.</p> + +<p>'The person who—?'</p> + +<p>'The person whom I wish to get rid of.'</p> + +<p>For some moments nothing was said. The boatman was the first to speak +again.</p> + +<p>'Have you formed a plan?'</p> + +<p>Hortense nodded.</p> + +<p>'Let's hear it.'</p> + +<p>'The person in question,' said Madame Bernier, 'will be impatient to +land before noon. The house to which he returns will be in view of the +vessel if, as you say, she lies at anchor. If he can get a boat, he will +be sure to come ashore. <i>Eh bien</i>!—but you understand me.'</p> + +<p>'Aha! you mean my boat—<i>this</i> boat?'</p> + +<p>'O God!'</p> + +<p>Madame Bernier sprang up in her seat, threw out her arms, and sank down +again, burying her face in her knees. Her companion hastily shipped his +oars, and laid his hands on her shoulders.</p> + +<p>'<i>Allons donc</i>, in the devil's name, don't break down,' said he; 'we'll +come to an understanding.'</p> + +<p>Kneeling in the bottom of the boat, and supporting her by his grasp, he +succeeded in making her raise herself, though her head still drooped.</p> + +<p>'You want me to finish him in the boat?'</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>'Is he an old man?'</p> + +<p>Hortense shook her head faintly.</p> + +<p>'My age?'</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>'<i>Sapristi</i>! it isn't so easy.'</p> + +<p>'He can't swim,' said Hortense, without looking up; 'he—he is lame.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Nom de Dieu</i>!' The boatman dropped his hands. Hortense looked up +quickly. Do you read the pantomime?</p> + +<p>'Never mind,' added the man at last, 'it will serve as a sign.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Mais oui</i>. And besides that, he will ask to be taken to the Maison +Bernier, the house with its back to the water, on the extension of the +great quay. <i>Tenez</i>, you can almost see it from here.'</p> + +<p>'I know the place,' said the boatman, and was silent, as if asking and +answering himself a question.</p> + +<p>Hortense was about to interrupt the train of thought which she +apprehended he was following, when he forestalled her.</p> + +<p>'How am I to be sure of my affair?' asked he.</p> + +<p>'Of your reward? I've thought of that. This watch is a pledge of what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> I +shall be able and glad to give you afterward. There are two thousand +francs' worth of pearls in the case.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Il faut fixer la somme</i>,' said the man, leaving the watch untouched.</p> + +<p>'That lies with you.'</p> + +<p>'Good. You know that I have the right to ask a high price.'</p> + +<p>'Certainly. Name it.'</p> + +<p>'It's only on the supposition of a large sum that I will so much as +consider your proposal. <i>Songez donc</i>, that it's a <span class="smcap">murder</span> you +ask of me.'</p> + +<p>'The price—the price?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Tenez</i>,' continued the man, 'poached game is always high. The pearls +in that watch are costly because it's worth a man's life to get at them. +You want me to be your pearl diver. Be it so. You must guarantee me a +safe descent,—it's a descent, you know—ha!—you must furnish me the +armor of safety; a little gap to breathe through while I'm at my +work—the thought of a capful of Napoleons!'</p> + +<p>'My good man, I don't wish to talk to you or to listen to your sallies. +I wish simply to know your price. I'm not bargaining for a pair of +chickens. Propose a sum.'</p> + +<p>The boatman had by this time resumed his seat and his oars. He stretched +out for a long, slow pull, which brought him closely face to face with +his temptress. This position, his body bent forward, his eyes fixed on +Madame Bernier's face, he kept for some seconds. It was perhaps +fortunate for Hortense's purpose at that moment—it had often aided her +purposes before—that she was a pretty woman.<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> A plain face might have +emphasized the utterly repulsive nature of the negotiation. Suddenly, +with a quick, convulsive movement, the man completed the stroke.</p> + +<p>'<i>Pas si hête</i>! propose one yourself.'</p> + +<p>'Very well,' said Hortense, 'if you wish it, <i>Voyons</i>: I'll give you +what I can. I have fifteen thousand francs' worth of jewels. I'll give +you them, or, if they will get you into trouble, their value. At home, +in a box I have a thousand francs in gold. You shall have those. I'll +pay your passage and outfit to America, I have friends in New York. I'll +write to them to get you work.'</p> + +<p>'And you'll give your washing to my mother and sister, <i>hein</i>? Ha! ha! +Jewels, fifteen thousand francs; one thousand more makes sixteen; +passage to America—first class—five hundred francs; outfit—what does +Madame understand by that?'</p> + +<p>'Everything needful for your success <i>là-bas</i>.'</p> + +<p>'A written denial that I am an assassin? <i>Ma foi</i>, it were better not to +remove the impression. It's served me a good turn, on this side of the +water at least. Call it twenty-five thousand francs.'</p> + +<p>'Very well; but not a sous more.'</p> + +<p>'Shall I trust you?'</p> + +<p>'Am I not trusting you? It is well for you that I do not allow myself to +think of the venture I am making.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps we're even there. We neither of us can afford to make account +of certain possibilities. Still, I'll trust you, too.... <i>Tiens</i>!' added +the boatman, 'here we are near the quay.' Then with a mock-solemn touch +of his cap, 'Will Madame still visit the cemetery?'</p> + +<p>'Come, quick, let me land,' said Madame Bernier, impatiently.</p> + +<p>'We <i>have</i> been among the dead, after a fashion,' persisted the boatman, +as he gave her his hand.</p> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>III.</h3> + + +<p>It was more than eight o'clock when Madame Bernier reached her own +house.</p> + +<p>'Has M. de Meyrau been here?' she asked of Josephine.</p> + +<p>'Yes, ma'am; and on learning that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> Madame was out, he left a note, <i>chez +monsieur</i>.'</p> + +<p>Hortense found a sealed letter on the table in her husband's old study. +It ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'I was desolated at finding you out. I had a word to tell you. I +have accepted an invitation to sup and pass the night at C——, +thinking it would look well. For the same reason I have resolved to +take the bull by the horns, and go aboard the steamer on my return, +to welcome M. Bernier home—the privilege of an old friend. I am +told the <i>Armorique</i> will anchor off the bar by daybreak. What do +you think? But it's too late to let me know. Applaud my <i>savoir +faire</i>—you will, at all events, in the end. You will see how it +will smoothe matters.'</p></div> + +<p>'Baffled! baffled!' hissed Madame, when she had read the note; 'God +deliver me from my friends!' She paced up and down the room several +times, and at last began to mutter to herself, as people often do in +moments of strong emotion: 'Bah! but he'll never get up by daybreak. +He'll oversleep himself, especially after to-night's supper. The other +will be before him..... Oh, my poor head, you've suffered too much to +fail in the end!'</p> + +<p>Josephine reappeared to offer to remove her mistress's things. The +latter, in her desire to reassure herself, asked the first question that +occurred to her.</p> + +<p>'Was M. le Vicomte alone?'</p> + +<p>'No, madame; another gentleman was with him—M. de Saulges, I think. +They came in a hack, with two portmanteaus.'</p> + +<p>Though I have judged best, hitherto, often from an exaggerated fear of +trenching on the ground of fiction, to tell you what this poor lady did +and said, rather than what she thought, I may disclose what passed in +her mind now:</p> + +<p>'Is he a coward? is he going to leave me? or is he simply going to pass +these last hours in play and drink? He might have stayed with me. Ah! my +friend, you do little for me, who do so much for you; who commit murder, +and—Heaven help me!—suicide for you!.... But I suppose he knows best. +At all events, he will make a night of it.'</p> + +<p>When the cook came in late that evening, Josephine, who had sat up for +her, said:</p> + +<p>'You've no idea how Madame is looking. She's ten years older since this +morning. Holy mother! what a day this has been for her!'</p> + +<p>'Wait till to-morrow,' said the oracular Valentine.</p> + +<p>Later, when the women went up to bed in the attic, they saw a light +under Hortense's door, and during the night Josephine, whose chamber was +above Madame's, and who couldn't sleep (for sympathy, let us say), heard +movements beneath her, which told that her mistress was even more +wakeful than she.</p> + + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>IV.</h3> + + +<p>There was considerable bustle around the <i>Armorique</i> as she anchored +outside the harbor of H——, in the early dawn of the following day. A +gentleman, with an overcoat, walking stick, and small valise, came +alongside in a little fishing boat, and got leave to go aboard.</p> + +<p>'Is M. Bernier here?' he asked of one of the officers, the first man he +met.</p> + +<p>'I fancy he's gone ashore, sir. There was a boatman inquiring for him a +few minutes ago, and I think he carried him off.</p> + +<p>M. de Meyrau reflected a moment. Then he crossed over to the other side +of the vessel, looking landward. Leaning over the bulwarks he saw an +empty boat moored to the ladder which ran up the vessel's side.</p> + +<p>'That's a town boat, isn't it?' he said to one of the hands standing by.</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir.'</p> + +<p>'Where's the master?'</p> + +<p>'I suppose he'll be here in a moment. I saw him speaking to one of the +officers just now.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> + +<p>De Meyrau descended the ladder, and seated himself at the stern of the +boat. As the sailor he had just addressed was handing down his bag, a +face with a red cap looked over the bulwarks.</p> + +<p>'Hullo, my man!' cried De Meyrau, 'is this your boat?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir, at your service,' answered the red cap, coming to the top of +the ladder, and looking hard at the gentleman's stick and portmanteau.</p> + +<p>'Can you take me to town, to Madame Bernier's, at the end of the new +quay?'</p> + +<p>'Certainly, sir,' said the boatman, scuttling down the ladder, 'you're +just the gentleman I want.'</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>An hour later Hortense Bernier came out of the house, and began to walk +slowly through the garden toward the terrace which overlooked the water. +The servants, when they came down at an early hour, had found her up and +dressed, or rather, apparently, not undressed, for she wore the same +clothes as the evening before.</p> + +<p>'<i>Tiens!</i>' exclaimed Josephine, after seeing her, 'Madame gained ten +years yesterday; she has gained ten more during the night.'</p> + +<p>When Madame Bernier reached the middle of the garden she halted, and +stood for a moment motionless, listening. The next, she uttered a great +cry. For she saw a figure emerge from below the terrace, and come +limping toward her with outstretched arms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NOS_AMIS_LES_COSAQUES" id="NOS_AMIS_LES_COSAQUES"></a>'NOS AMIS LES COSAQUES!'</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[In accordance with the policy embraced by <span class="smcap">The +Continental</span>, of giving views of important subjects from +various stand-points, we lay before our readers the following +article. It is from the pen which contributed to the 'New American +Cyclopædia' the articles 'Czartoryski,' 'Francis Joseph,' 'Gōrgey,' +'Hebrews,' 'Hungary,' 'Kossuth,' 'Poland,' etc., etc. We doubt not +the author gives utterance in the present contribution to the +feelings which agitated the hearts of thousands of our naturalized +citizens during the Russian excitement in New York. Heartily +grateful as we may be to Russia for her timely sympathy, our +country is pledged to Eternal Justice, and ought never to forget +that she is the hope of mankind, and should be its model.]</p></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p><p>On the evening of the thirtieth of November last, the large hall of the +Cooper Institute—that forum of public opinion in the city of New York, +which has so often been the theatre of interesting +manifestations—witnessed a scene almost entirely novel. Flags, +decorated with emblems unknown, were unfolded over the platform; young +girls, daughters of a distant land, or at least of exiles from it, +appeared in their national costume, and sang melodious strains in a +foreign tongue, which charmed tears into the eyes of those who +understood them; a straightened scythe, fixed to the end of a pole, was +exhibited, not as a specimen of the agricultural implements of the +country from which those homeless men and children had sprung, but as a +weapon with which its people, in absence of more efficient arms, was +wont to fight for liberty and independence; the bust of the father of +the American republic was placed prominently in face of the large +gathering, and at its side that of a man bearing the features of a +different race, and apparently not less revered.</p> + +<p>If I say that this man was Kosciuszko, I have explained all. Every +reader not entirely ignorant of history will know which was the land, +the people, what the meaning of the weapon, of the song. Who has never +yet wept over the narrative of the fall of that unhappy country east and +west of the Vistula, so shamelessly torn, quartered, and preyed upon by +ravenous neighboring empires? Whose heart has never yet throbbed with +admiration for the sons of that land who to this day protest with their +blood, poured in streams, against that greatest of all crimes recorded +in history, the partition of their country, and that blasphemous lie +written upon one of its bloodiest pages: <i>Finis Poloniæ</i>? who, abandoned +by the world, betrayed by their neighbors, trampled upon as no nation +ever was before, again and again rise, and in 1794, under the lead of +Kosciuszko, eclipse the deeds of those who, in 1768, flocked to the +banners of Pulaski; in 1830-'31, on the battle fields of Grochow and +Ostrolenka, show themselves more powerful than under the dictatorship of +the disciple of Washington, and in 1863, fighting without a leader, +without a centre, without arms, surprise the world with a heroism, a +self-sacrificing devotion, unexampled even in the history of their +former insurrections? Who has never heard of Russian batteries assaulted +and carried by Polish scythes? Whose bosom is so devoid of the divine +cords of justice and sympathy as never yet to have revibrated the strain +of the Polish exiles: <span class="smcap">Poland is not yet lost</span>?</p> + +<p>Alas, the chronological dates just touched upon embrace a century! For a +hundred years Poland writhes in heroic despair under the heels of +Muscovite despotism, dazzles mankind by sublime efforts to recover her +right to national life, liberty, and happiness, and <i>not a hand has been +stretched out to help her break her chains</i>! All her martyrdom wrests +from the better nature of mankind is a tear of mourning, when, after a +superhuman struggle, she again sinks exhausted, and is believed to sink +into the grave. And has Poland well deserved this heartless +indifference, this pitilessness of the nations? Has she delivered none? +aided none? served none? defended none? Answer, Vienna, rescued from the +Turkish yoke by John Sobieski! Answer, thou monument at West Point, thou +fort at the mouth of the Savannah, ye towns and counties named +Kosciuszko and Pulaski! Answer, Elba and St. Helena! Answer, Hungarian +companion-in-arms of Bern, Dembinski, and Wysocki! Answer, Germany, +Europe, Christendom, for centuries shielded by Polish valor against +Tartar barbarism and Moslem fanaticism!</p> + +<p>Alas, Poland must beg even for sympathy! That gathering, which +commemorated, on its thirty-third anniversary, the outbreak of the +rising of 1830, was destined to resuscitate the feeling of the American +people for the Polish cause. For the Poles sojourning in this country +had reasons to believe that even that passive sentiment was on the wane, +that interests, not less illusory than selfish, were working to destroy +even the impressions which sacred national remembrances, by twining +together the memories of Washington and Kosciuszko, had created in the +American heart. Strange to say, amid the roar of cannon thundering +freedom to slaves, amid streams of blood shed in the name of +nationality, on this side of the Atlantic, amid daily echoes +reverberating the groans of butchered martyrs, of mothers and sisters +scourged, hanged, or dragged into captivity, on the other side—New York +had gone mad with enthusiasm for the Muscovites! The metropolis of the +freest people on the globe had prostrated herself before the shrine of +semi-Asiatic despotism, had kissed the hands of the knoutbearers of the +czar, had desecrated the holy memory of Washington, by coupling his +name, his bust, with those of an Alexander, nay, of a Nicholas! The woes +of Poland were forgotten,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> her cause was wantonly assailed, her fair +name defamed by the very same organs of public opinion which for months +and months made people shudder with daily recitals of nameless +atrocities committed by the Russian hangmen, by the Muravieffs and +Aunekoffs, on the defenders of their country and liberty. Unthinking +scribblers and lecturers called Russia and America twin sister empires +of the future, agitated for an alliance defensive and offensive between +them; Poland and her defenders were calumniated. <i>Væ victis!</i></p> + +<p>There is an excuse for every folly New York commits and the country +imitates, for she is blessed with papers and politicians more than +others practised to flatter vanity and mislead ignorance. When New York +strews palm leaves before the feet of the Prince of Wales, it is done to +cement the bond of love that links the New World to its venerable +mother; when she runs after the Japanese, it is in search of a +trans-oceanic brother, just discovered, and soon lovingly to be embraced +(witness our doings in the Japanese waters); when she kisses the knout +and collects Russian relics, it is done to inaugurate a sistership of +the future, already dawning upon her in Muscovite smiles of friendship, +in diplomatic hints of the czar, and in the hurrahs for the Union of +Lissoffski's crews! In this case she only pays with American sympathy +for Russian sympathy, and at the same time frowns a rebuke upon England +and France for their un-Russian-like behavior, and insinuates a threat +which may save this country from the perils of European intervention.</p> + +<p>But Russian imperial sympathy, with its diplomatic smiles and compulsory +hurrahs, is nothing but a bait; he must be blind who does not see it. +What is the natural tendency that would lead the czar, the upholder of +despotism in the East, to sympathize with the model republic of the +West? the empire which is again and again covered with the blood of +Poland, divided by it and its accomplices, to have, amid its troubles, +so much tender feeling for the indivisibility of this country? Is +Alexander's friendship kindled by our acts of emancipation? It is true +he has freed more than twenty millions of serfs in his empire, and, +though following the dictates of political necessity, he may have acted +with no more real anti-slavery sentiment than that which makes many +avowed pro-slavery men emancipationists among ourselves, yet he +certainly has achieved a noble glory, which even his monstrous reign in +Poland may not entirely blot out from the pages of history. The same +friendly disposition toward the United States was, however, +ostentatiously evinced by Nicholas, who lived and died the true +representative and guardian of unmitigated tyranny; it was as +ostentatiously shown by Alexander at the time when Fremont's +proclamation was repudiated as it is now, after the first of January, +1863; and it is he of all the monarchs of Europe who, as early as July, +1861, diplomatically advised this country to save the Union by +compromise, as neither of the contending parties could be finally +crushed down; that is to say, flagrantly to sacrifice <i>liberty</i> in order +to save <i>power</i>. The Russian nobility will naturally sympathize with the +slaveholders of the South, and the lower classes of the Russian people +are too ignorant to think about transatlantic affairs. Russian imperial +and diplomatic sympathy will cordially be bestowed upon any nation and +cause which promises to become hostile to England (or, on a given time, +to France), on Nena Sahib no less than on Abraham Lincoln. The +never-discarded aim of Russia to plant its double cross on the banks of +the Byzantine Bosporus, and its batteries on those of the Hellespont, +and thus to transfer its centre of gravity from the secluded shores of +the Baltic to the gates of the Mediterranean; the never-slumbering dread +of this expansion, which has made the integrity of Turkey an inviolable +principle with the British<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> statesmen of every sect; and the growing +inevitability of a bloody collision on the fields of central Asia of the +two powers, one of which is master of the north, and the other of the +south of that continent, have rendered Russia and Great Britain +inveterate foes. To strengthen itself against its deadliest opponent, +one courts the alliance of France, the other that of the American Union, +both not from sympathy, but in spite of inveterate or natural antipathy. +Against a common enemy we have seen the pope allying himself with the +sultan. Russia always hates England, and from time to time fears France; +both these powers continue to offend the United States, and at least one +of them now threatens a Polish campaign: why should not the czar lavish +his flattering marks of friendship on a great power which he hopes to +entice into an unnatural alliance? It is not American freedom which the +czars are fond of; they court American power as naturally antagonistic +to that of England, at least on the seas. Wielded entire by a Jeff. +Davis, with all the Southern spirit of aggression, it would be to them a +more desirable object of an <i>entente cordiale</i>.</p> + +<p>But why should we not accept the proffered aid, though the offer be +prompted by selfish motives? Threatened by a wicked interference in our +affairs, which might prove dangerous to our national existence, why +refuse additional means to guard it, though these be derived from an +impure source? Will an innocent man, attacked by assassins, repulse the +aid of one hastening to save him, on the ground that he, too, is a +murderer? Certainly not. History, too, proves it by noble examples. +Pelopidas, the Theban hero, invokes the aid of the Persian king, the +natural enemy of the Greeks; Cato, who prefers a free death by his own +hand to life under a Cæsar, fights side by side with Juba, a king of +barbarians; Gustavus Adolphus, the champion of Protestantism in Germany, +acts in concert with Richelieu, the reducer of La Rochelle, its last +stronghold in France; Pulaski, who fights for freedom in Poland and dies +for it in America, accepts the aid of the sultan; Franklin calls upon +the master of the Bastille to defend the Declaration of Independence; +Ypsilanti raises the standard of Neo-Grecian liberty in hope of aid from +Czar Alexander I, and happier Hellenes obtain it from Czar Nicholas, and +conquer; the heroic defender of Rome in 1849, Garibaldi, fights in 1859, +so to say, under the lead of Louis Napoleon, the destroyer of that +republic.</p> + +<p>But what has all this to do with the question before us? Has it come to +this? Is the cause of this great republic reduced to such extremities? +Is this nation of twenty millions of freemen, so richly endowed with all +the faculties, resources, and artificial means which constitute power, +unable to preserve its national existence, independence, and liberty, +without help from the contaminating hand of tyranny, without sacrificing +its honor by basely singing hosannas to the imperial butcher of Poland, +at the very moment when the blood of the people of Kosciuszko and +Pulaski cries to Heaven and mankind for vengeance? Is the peril so +great? so imminent? Is Hannibal <i>ante portas</i>? Has the French fleet +dispersed Secretary Welles's five hundred and eighty-eight vessels of +war, broken the Southern blockade, and appeared before our Northern +harbors? Are all Jeff. Davis's bitter complaints against the English +cabinet but a sham, covering a deep-laid conspiracy with treacherous +Albion? Is Emperor Maximilian quietly seated on the throne of Montezuma, +and already marching his armies upon the Rio Grande? The talk of foreign +intervention has been going on for years, and not a threatening cloud is +yet to be seen on our horizon. Both England and France deprecate the +idea of hostile interference in American affairs. It is <i>Russia</i> that +is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> <i>menaced</i>, an alliance with her can serve only herself, and her +artifices have caused all the foolish clamor that threatens to disgrace +this country.</p> + +<p>And then, accepting aid is not forming an alliance, still less an +alliance <i>defensive</i> and <i>offensive</i>. Not to speak of examples too +remote, every one familiar with the historical characters of the men, +will know that neither Pulaski, Franklin, Ypsilanti, or Garibaldi would +ever have so degraded his cause—the cause of liberty—as to promise to +the despot, whose aid he desired, a compensatory assistance in trampling +down a people rising for freedom. No <i>innocent</i> man attacked by +assassins will promise, with honest intent, to one who offers to save +him, his assistance in continuing a work of murder and resisting the arm +of justice.</p> + +<p>For it must be supposed that nobody is foolish enough to believe that +Russia would offer us her aid—say, against France—without requiring +from us a mutual service; that merely in order to inflict a punishment +on Louis Napoleon for the recognition of the South, or the establishment +of monarchy in Mexico, she would, still bleeding from the wounds +inflicted by the Polish insurrection, madly launch her armies upon the +Rhine, or start her hiding fleet from behind the fortified shelters of +Cronstadt and Helsingfors, make it pass the Sound and Skager Rack, +unmindful of the frowning batteries of Landscrona and Marstrand, pass +the Strait of Dover, and the English Channel, and enter the Atlantic, +quietly leaving behind Calais, Boulogne, Cherbourg, and Brest, and all +this with the certainty of raising a storm which might carry the armies +of France and her allies into the heart of Poland, and ultimately, by +restoring that country, press czardom back, where it ought to be, behind +the Dnieper. Such assistance she would and could not honestly promise +were we even to vouch a similar boon to her in case Napoleon should +really enter upon a campaign for the deliverance of Poland. For neither +promise could be executed with the slightest chance of real success, and +without exposing the naval and land forces despatched across the seas to +almost certain total destruction. The only practical military result of +a Russo-American alliance could be an attack by the forces of the United +States on the French in Mexico, serving as a powerful diversion for the +benefit of Russia assailed by France in Europe. This is what Russia +knows and our eager demonstrationists are unable to perceive. The sword +of France hangs over Russia, just engaged in finishing the slaughter of +Poland. The menace of a Russo-American alliance may induce Napoleon, who +is entangled in Mexico, to put that sword back into the scabbard. He is +too proud and too little magnanimous to give up, yielding to our menace, +his Mexican work—a work so long begun, and so costly in blood and +treasure—and turn all his attention, all his forces toward Poland and +Russia. He may give up Poland, for which he has not yet sacrificed +anything, and turn all his attention toward Mexico and the United +States. Thus our philo-Russian enthusiasm can bear no good fruits for +ourselves; it can serve Russia, prevent the deliverance of Poland, and +dishonor the fair name of the American republic.</p> + +<p>Yes, dishonor it. Already, speaking of the demonstrations in favor of +the Russians, that patriot soldier, Sigel, exclaims: 'They make me +almost doubt the common sense of the American people.' And it is not +Sigel that speaks thus: it is the voice of enlightened Germany, of the +freedom-loving men of Europe.</p> + +<p>May the people of America heed this warning before it is too late!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WAS_HE_SUCCESSFUL" id="WAS_HE_SUCCESSFUL"></a>WAS HE SUCCESSFUL?</h2> + +<h3><i>PART THE LAST.</i></h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Everyone <i>lives</i> it—to +not many is it <i>known</i>; and seize it where you will, it is +interesting'—<span class="smcap">Goethe</span>.</p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">Successful</span>.—Terminating in accomplishing what is wished +or intended.'—<span class="smcap">Webster's</span> <i>Dictionary</i>.</p></div> + +<h4><a name="CHAPTER_IIB" id="CHAPTER_IIB"></a>CHAPTER II.—<i>continued</i>.</h4> + +<p>As soon as they reached the room, Mrs. Meeker exclaimed, 'Augustus! tell +me, what does this mean!'</p> + +<p>The young man, thus appealed to, stopped, and, regarding his mother with +a fierce expression, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>'It means that I quit New York to-night!'</p> + +<p>'Augustus! you are a cruel creature to alarm me in this way.'</p> + +<p>'It is so, mother. I have got into a bad scrape.'</p> + +<p>'Tell me just what it is, Augustus—tell me the whole truth.'</p> + +<p>'Well, a few weeks ago, I lost a large sum of money—no matter how. I +asked father to help me. I made him a solemn promise, which I would have +kept, provided he had given me what I required. He refused, and I used +his name to raise it.'</p> + +<p>'O Augustus! Augustus!' exclaimed Mrs. Meeker in genuine agony.</p> + +<p>'It's no use groaning over it,' said the young man. 'It is done; and, +what is worse, it is discovered! Father will know it to-night. What I +want is, money enough to take me out of the country; and if you will not +give it to me, I will cut my throat before you leave the room!'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Meeker could only reply by sobs and hysterical exclamations.</p> + +<p>'It is of no use, mother—I mean it!' continued the young man.</p> + +<p>'Where are you going, Augustus?' said Mrs. Meeker, faintly.</p> + +<p>'Across the water. Give me the money, and I shall be on board ship in an +hour.'</p> + +<p>'I have only two hundred dollars in my purse,' said his mother, +mournfully, producing it.</p> + +<p>'It will serve my purpose,' answered her son. 'You can send me more +after you hear from me.'</p> + +<p>He took the money and put it into his pocket, and prepared to attend his +mother to the door.</p> + +<p>'But when shall I see you again, Augustus?' faltered Mrs. Meeker.</p> + +<p>'Never!'</p> + +<p>The parental feeling could no longer be restrained. She threw herself +upon her son's neck, sobbing violently, and declared he should not leave +her.</p> + +<p>It did not avail. Although the young man's feelings seemed much +softened, he resisted all her appeals. He unwound her arms with +tenderness, and led her in silence down the staircase.</p> + +<p>'Give my love to Harriet,' he said. 'Tell her I never will forget her.'</p> + +<p>He opened the door into the street—a moment after, he had regained his +room; and the miserable mother was driven back to her magnificent abode.</p> + +<p>The next day an ordinary sailing vessel left New York for Liverpool, +having on board the only son of Hiram Meeker.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When Mrs. Meeker reached her house, her husband had finished his dinner, +and gone out. It was late when he returned—so late, that his wife had +already retired.</p> + +<p>In the morning, Mr. Meeker communicated to her the information of his +son's disgraceful and criminal conduct. She listened with such an air of +sorrow and distress, that it did not occur to him that she manifested no +surprise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> She prudently, perhaps, forbore communicating the incidents +of the previous evening, for she knew it would lead to a terrible +reproof on his part. Besides, her present interference was far beyond +anything she had ever ventured on, and she stood in great terror of +Hiram where important matters were concerned.</p> + +<p>During the day, Hiram Meeker had intelligence of his son's flight. He +received it with great outward composure, and with sensible inward +relief.</p> + +<p>The discovery of the fraud which Augustus had committed had also been +borne with entire equanimity.</p> + +<p>The fact is, Hiram, having thought best to conclude that his son was +irreclaimable, searched the Scriptures to find the various eminent +examples of disobedient, ungrateful, and wicked children; and he seemed +to cherish with unction the idea of being numbered among the godly +parents of a reprobate child.</p> + +<p>His own position was so strong, so far above that of any ordinary man of +wealth, that the circumstance of a dissolute son's raising a few +thousand dollars by forging his name (after all, it was only a few +thousand) could only produce an expression of sympathy for the honored +father.</p> + +<p>What to do with Augustus—that was the question which troubled him +through the night; and the morning brought an agreeable solution of it.</p> + +<p>His child, an only son, possessed of many noble and generous qualities, +without any of his father's intense selfishness, was a wanderer and an +outcast on the earth, and he unmoved, undisturbed, complacent!</p> + +<p>It was soon known in the house what had become of Augustus. When Belle +heard of it, she gave a shrug, and exclaimed, 'Poor Gus!'</p> + +<p>Harriet, the invalid, was deeply affected. Seeing how much she was +sorrowing, her mother, whose heart was still tender from the +recollection of her late parting with her boy, told her, under promise +of secrecy (she knew she could trust her), that she had seen Augustus +before he went away, and repeated the message with which she had been +charged.</p> + +<p>'O mamma!' exclaimed the poor girl, 'we can save him—I know we can! You +say he is to write you. We shall know where he is, and by-and-by he will +come back.'</p> + +<p>'Your father will never permit it.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps not immediately; but he will yield—I am sure he will yield.'</p> + +<p>'You do not know him as I know him,' said Mrs. Meeker, in a tone so +sepulchral, that it made her daughter start. 'He will never +yield—<i>never!</i>'</p> + +<p>I think from that period the conduct of Mrs. Meeker toward her daughter +was much less indifferent, not to say harsh, than it had previously +been. Harriet was, in a way, connected with her last recollection of +Augustus. And this spark of a mother's tenderness did, to an extent, +spread a diffusing warmth over her whole nature.</p> + + +<h4><a name="CHAPTER_IIIB" id="CHAPTER_IIIB"></a>CHAPTER III.</h4> + + +<p>Hiram Meeker had erected an entire block of buildings, which he called +'model houses for the poor.'</p> + +<p>By this observation the reader must not suppose I mean that they were +provided <i>gratis</i> for that ever-present class. No. But they were made on +a new plan, so as to give each family comfortable quarters, as if each +had a house of their own.</p> + +<p>Hiram Meeker received great credit for the 'act of benevolence' in +building these homes for poor people. Doubtless it was a very great +improvement over the old arrangement. Still, Hiram's block of buildings +netted him just fifteen per cent. per annum, after deducting all +possible charges and expenses against the property.</p> + +<p>To secure such a handsome return, there had, of course, to be very +strict and careful management. Hiram's agent in this department was a +man entirely satisfactory to him, and with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> whom he never interfered. +Frequent complaints were made of this man's severity, to which Hiram +would pay no attention. It was impossible for him to look after all the +details of his various affairs. An agent once appointed, people must +transact their business with him.</p> + +<p>This was reasonable, as a rule; but Hiram's iniquity was displayed in +the nature of the men whom he selected to manage for him. You see he +placed exacting and relentless folks in charge, and then tried to avoid +the responsibility of their acts of severity.</p> + +<p>One day, a few weeks after the circumstances recorded in the last +chapter, Hiram was seated in his inner and very private office, outside +of which was his regular office, where was his confidential clerk; and +beyond that the counting room of the princely house of 'Hiram +Meeker'—for he admitted no partners—which several rooms were protected +against persons having no business to transact with the house, but who +wished to see Mr. Meeker personally.</p> + +<p>This class found entrance very difficult. They had first to announce the +nature of their business. If it required personal attention, they were +introduced to a species of general agent, who was high in Mr. Meeker's +confidence. If this last character was satisfied, then an interview +could be had with the great man himself.</p> + +<p>I say, one day Hiram was seated in his most private apartment, quite +alone. He was engaged in calculations for some large real-estate +improvements involving an outlay of at least a million of dollars. He +had given orders not to be interrupted, and was deeply absorbed in his +plans, when the door opened, and a young man came in with a quick step.</p> + +<p>Hiram did not look up. He supposed it was some one connected with the +establishment.</p> + +<p>'Is this Mr. Meeker?' was asked, in a vigorous, earnest voice.</p> + +<p>Hiram raised his head, and beheld an individual apparently +five-and-twenty, dressed rather carelessly, but in the manner of a +gentleman. He was of goodly proportions, and had dark hair, a clear +complexion, and keen gray eyes.</p> + +<p>Hiram made no reply to the question, except to ask, 'What is your name?'</p> + +<p>'Dr. Ephraim Peters,' said the young man with the sparkling gray eyes.</p> + +<p>'Who admitted you?' continued Hiram.</p> + +<p>'I had a pressing errand of life and death, and could not wait for a +formal presentation.'</p> + +<p>'What is your business?'</p> + +<p>Dr. Peters took a seat with considerable deliberation, while Hiram +waited, with a displeased look, for him to reply.</p> + +<p>'You are the owner of the block of 'model houses,' as they are called?'</p> + +<p>Hiram nodded.</p> + +<p>'A patient of mine, a laboring man, is one of your tenants. He broke his +leg a few months ago, falling from a scaffolding. He has had hard work +to live since. Thursday his wife was taken ill. Yesterday was rent +day—he pays monthly in advance. He could not get the money, and your +agent refuses to give him any grace. Now what I want to say is, the poor +woman can't be moved without danger to her life.'</p> + +<p>'Well?'</p> + +<p>'Well,' echoed the other, 'I want to get an order from you to let her +remain.'</p> + +<p>'See the agent.'</p> + +<p>'I have seen him; and, what is more, although I am poor enough +myself—for I am just starting, you see, in New York—I offered to pawn +my watch and pay the rent myself, but the man would not take it.'</p> + +<p>'No?'</p> + +<p>'No, he would not. He said they had gone over the time, and he did not +want tenants who depended on charity to pay rent; besides he said he was +afraid the woman was going to die,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> and he did not want a death in the +building—it would give it a bad name.'</p> + +<p>The young man paused, with the air of one who had made a successful +argument, and was waiting for an auspicious result.</p> + +<p>The only notice Hiram took of him was to say, in a decided tone, as he +resumed his calculations, 'I can't interfere.'</p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">Can't</span> interfere!' said the other, with naive astonishment. +'Why, what do you mean? It will kill the woman, I tell you! You <i>must</i> +interfere.'</p> + +<p>'Young man, you forget yourself. I repeat, go to the agent. I shall not +interfere.'</p> + +<p>'Well, well,' said the young physician, rising, 'I have heard of hard +hearts and cruel men who grind the faces of the poor, but you are the +first I have seen. I don't envy you, though. I would not stand in your +shoes for a good deal.'</p> + +<p>While Dr. Ephraim Peters was delivering himself of the above, Hiram had +struck a small bell which stood before him, and a young man entered in +response to the summons just as the doctor concluded.</p> + +<p>'Holmes, send for a policeman.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir.' And Holmes withdrew to execute the commission.</p> + +<p>'Do you mean that for me?' exclaimed the young doctor, choking with +passion, while the gray eyes flashed dangerously.</p> + +<p>Hiram made no reply, but occupied himself intently with the figures +before him.</p> + +<p>'I say,' said the other, in a louder tone, 'do you mean that for me? I +suppose you do, and I have half a mind that the errand shall not be for +nothing. Yes, I have <i>more</i> than half a mind to break every bone in your +worthless body!'</p> + +<p>He looked at that moment, with his clenched hand, erect figure, and +energetic presence, quite capable of carrying out the threat.</p> + +<p>Still, Hiram paid not the slightest attention to this demonstration, but +worked at his figures, more abstracted than ever. He knew it was merely +a matter of time; the policeman would arrive in two or three minutes, +and, as he hoped, would catch the doctor in the midst of his violent +outburst of passion.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, our young hero soon discovered that he was to get no +satisfaction from his antagonist, as he now considered him, by the +course he was pursuing. He, too, began to count the moments—well aware +that he had not much time to spare.</p> + +<p>He determined to change his tactics.</p> + +<p>'After all,' he exclaimed, in a deliberate tone, 'I will not give you +the chance for a case of assault and battery. I think better of the +whole matter. Nature is slower, to be sure, but she will do the work +better than I could. Do you know what an advantage I have over you? I am +twenty-five, and you fifty-five. Money cannot buy back those thirty +years. That's about all I have to say.</p> + +<p>'Not quite, either,' he continued, still more deliberately. 'I am a +medical man, accustomed to judge of a person's condition by observation. +Do you want me to tell you what is the matter with you?'</p> + +<p>Dr. Ephraim Peters paused, as if for a reply.</p> + +<p>A natural instinct, which acts without our volition, took such sudden +possession of Hiram, that he raised his eyes from his papers and turned +them upon the questioner, as if expecting him to continue.</p> + +<p>'I see the subject interests you,' said the doctor. 'Take my advice. Sit +over your papers less, and exercise more—or you will be struck with +paralysis within five years! Good-day.'</p> + +<p>He turned and quitted the apartment with a slow and dignified step.</p> + +<p>As he advanced a little way along the street, he encountered Holmes, +still in search of a police officer.</p> + +<p>He had been at two or three places<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> where one was always visible; but, +as usual when wanted, none were to be found.</p> + +<p>'Holmes,' said the doctor, addressing him as if he had known him all his +life, 'hurry back to your employer; he wants you particularly.'</p> + +<p>Holmes sped off at the word, delighted to be relieved in his search; and +Dr. Ephraim Peters went on his way.</p> + +<p>He was not mistaken as to the effect of the last attack. His chance shot +struck Hiram amidships. The latter continued gazing on vacancy for a +moment or two after the doctor had left the room.</p> + +<p>'Paralysis—paralysis!' he muttered. 'That is what killed mother!'</p> + +<p>Hiram started up, and walked across the room. He pinched his arms and +his legs, and both his cheeks. He fancied his left side had less +sensibility than his right.</p> + +<p>"My brain <i>is</i> overworked, that's a fact. Dr. Joslin has told me so +frequently. I must ride every morning before breakfast; I ought not to +have neglected it. Paralysis! how did he come to say paralysis?'—and he +commenced pinching himself again."</p> + +<p>In the midst of these demonstrations, Holmes entered.</p> + +<p>Hiram turned on him angrily. He had forgotten about sending him for a +police officer.</p> + +<p>'I thought you wanted me,' said the young man, timidly.</p> + +<p>'No, I do not!'</p> + +<p>Holmes retreated.</p> + +<p>Hiram Meeker put on his overcoat, took his hat, and, though still early, +prepared to walk all the way to his house.</p> + +<p>One thing was uppermost in his mind—paralysis!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Hiram reached his house in a very pious state of mind.</p> + +<p>His wife and Belle were both out, and he went immediately to Harriet's +room.</p> + +<p>She was delighted to welcome her father so early, and she told him so.</p> + +<p>Hiram regarded the attenuated form and pale, thin face of his daughter, +and I hope I am right in saying that he felt a touch of pity when he +reflected on her distressed situation, shut out from the world, and +slowly wasting away.</p> + +<p>At any rate, he returned her greeting with more than ordinary kindness, +and seated himself by the side of the couch where she was reclining.</p> + +<p>[Had you the power to look into the <span class="smcap">heart</span>, even as the +Omniscient regards it, which, think you, would most challenge your pity, +Hiram or his daughter?]</p> + +<p>'I fear you are lonely, Harriet, so much of the day by yourself.'</p> + +<p>'Not very lonely, papa. You know I have a good many visits, and Margaret +(the nurse) is invaluable. She reads to me whenever I desire; and she is +so cheerful always, that—'</p> + +<p>'Has your Uncle Frank been here to-day?' interrupted Hiram.</p> + +<p>'No, papa, but he is coming in to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'What time, think you?'</p> + +<p>'Uncle generally comes about six o'clock. He says he reserves his last +visit before dinner for me.'</p> + +<p>'Ask him to dine with us. Tell him I want to see him particularly.'</p> + +<p>'Indeed, I will!' said Harriet, joyfully, for she knew there was not +much cordiality between them.</p> + +<p>Now Hiram had suddenly conceived the idea of consulting Doctor Frank +about any latent tendency to paralysis in his constitution, and whether +it was hereditary or not, and so forth, and so forth. Aside from his +high reputation as a physician, he knew his brother could naturally +judge better about that than any one else. His mind, had wandered, +therefore, from his daughter back to himself.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, she did not understand the selfish nature of the +interruption.</p> + +<p>'I wish you would come home as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> early every day, papa. How little you +are with us!'</p> + +<p>'It is a great self-denial, my child—very great,' responded Hiram; 'but +on the rich fall a heavy responsibility—very heavy—and I must bear it. +Providence has so ordered. We must uphold society. We have to sustain +law and order—law and order.'</p> + +<p>He should have said that it was law and order which sustained <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>[Ah, reader, it is a mighty <i>moral restraint</i> which makes the crowd wait +patiently <i>outside</i>.]</p> + +<p>Harriet heaved a deep sigh. She could not deny what her father had so +pertinently expressed, yet these high-sounding words made no impression +on her.</p> + +<p>'Alas!' she said, mournfully, 'if I were a man, I should never wish to +be rich.'</p> + +<p>Hiram was preparing to make a harsh reply, but, looking at his daughter, +her wan features at that moment were so expressive of every finer +feeling, that his baser nature was subdued before it.</p> + +<p>He took her hand kindly, and said, with a smile, 'My dear child, you +know nothing about these things.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose not, papa; but I have made you smile, and that is worth +something.'</p> + +<p>The interview was not prolonged. Hiram soon felt a restless feeling come +over him. It occurred to him, just then, that he would have time before +dinner to take a look at the locality which he was preparing to occupy +for his real-estate improvements.</p> + +<p>He told Harriet so, and repeating his request that she should induce her +uncle to stay to dinner, he left her apartment.</p> + +<p>As the door closed, his daughter sighed again. For a while she appeared +to be absorbed in thought. Recovering, she directed the nurse to proceed +with the book she had in reading.</p> + +<p>We dare not inquire what was passing in her mind during those few +moments of reflection. Perhaps, through that strange discrimination +which is sometimes permitted to those appointed to die, she had a +partial insight into her father's real nature.</p> + +<p>I trust not. I hope she was spared that trial. It is an awful thing for +a child to awaken to a sense of a parent's unworthiness!</p> + + +<h4><a name="CHAPTER_IVB" id="CHAPTER_IVB"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h4> + + +<p>The two brothers had met—had met more congenially than they ever met +before. This was all Hiram's doings. He seemed like a new creature in +his bearing toward Doctor Frank, who could not (indeed he had no wish to +do so) resist the influence of his cordial treatment. After dinner, they +sat together in the library. They chatted of the old, old times when +Frank was in college, and Hiram, a little bit of a fellow, was his pet +and plaything during the vacations.</p> + +<p>'We have done something, Frank, to keep up the Meeker name in New York,' +said the millionnaire, when that topic was exhausted. 'You are at the +top of the profession, and I—I have accomplished a good deal.'</p> + +<p>Hiram spoke in such a genial, mellow tone, that Frank was touched.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he replied; '<i>you</i> have at least achieved wonders. Do you +remember what mother used always to prophesy about you? It is fulfilled +tenfold.'</p> + +<p>'Poor mother!' sighed Hiram.</p> + +<p>'Ah, yes! she was carried off very unexpectedly. What a vigorous +constitution she had, to all appearance!'</p> + +<p>'Do you know, Frank, they tell me I may look for a similar visitation at +her age?'</p> + +<p>'You? nonsense! Who has been filling your ears with such stuff?'</p> + +<p>'Stuff or not, so I am advised seriously. What think you of it?'</p> + +<p>Thus appealed to, Doctor Frank regarded his brother more critically.</p> + +<p>'That is right,' said Hiram. 'Now that you are here, give me an +examination.'</p> + +<p>Doctor Frank thereupon asked several<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> pertinent questions, to which +satisfactory replies were made. He sounded Hiram's chest: it was +responsive as a drum. Then he proceeded to manipulate him in a more +professional way. He put his ear close down, and held it for a minute, +to get the pulsation of the heart. This he repeated two or three times.</p> + +<p>Hiram's face grew anxious.</p> + +<p>'You find something wrong,' he said.</p> + +<p>His brother made no reply, except to ask more questions.</p> + +<p>At last he exclaimed, 'You are all right, Hiram—all right. There <i>is</i> a +little irregularity about the action of the heart: it is not chronic, +but connected with the digestive organs. You are in as good health as a +man could ask to be. Only, don't use your brain quite so much; it +interferes with your digestion, and that in you affects the action of +the heart. It is not worth mentioning, I assure you' (Hiram was looking +alarmed); 'but, since you can just as well as not, I say, take more +exercise, and give your brain a holiday now and then.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you—thank you! So you don't think there is anything in the idea +that I shall be—be—struck with paralysis—at about the same age that +mother was?'</p> + +<p>'Pure nonsense, Hiram—utter nonsense!' exclaimed Doctor Frank, +cheerfully. [He knew how foolish it is to alarm one.] 'Still, exercise, +exercise. That we ought all to do.'</p> + +<p>The next day, Hiram commenced his morning rides; one hour before +breakfast regularly.</p> + +<p>He had fought the battle of life, and had won. Now he was called on to +go into another contest. He set to work at this with his customary +assiduity.</p> + +<p>No one who saw the millionnaire on his horse, trotting sharply over the +road very early in the morning, understood really what was going on.</p> + +<p>One day, however, Dr. Ephraim Peters caught sight of him, spurring on +under full headway, as if everything depended on the work he had in +hand.</p> + +<p>'Do you know who that is, and what he is about?' asked the young doctor +of his companion.</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'It is Hiram Meeker, <i>fighting Death</i>'</p> + + +<h4><a name="CHAPTER_VB" id="CHAPTER_VB"></a>CHAPTER V.</h4> + + +<p>As the gay season progressed, the love affair between Signor Filippo +Barbone and the daughter of the millionnaire was not permitted to +languish.</p> + +<p>The Signor was not in society.</p> + +<p>Much as she might desire to do so, Belle dared not venture on the +hazardous experiment of introducing into her own aristocratic circle one +who had so lately figured as a second-rate opera singer. He would have +been recognized at once, and the whole town agitated by the scandal.</p> + +<p>Belle knew this very well. Yet, strange to say, it did not in the least +weaken her infatuation for this coarse fellow. On the contrary, I think +it stimulated it. Self-willed and imperious, she tolerated with extreme +impatience any restraint whatever. In this instance, it was the more +tantalizing and exciting, because she felt that the world would be in +opposition to her; while her lover adroitly added fuel to the flame, by +protesting that he would no longer consent to be so unjust, so selfish, +so criminal, as to attempt to absorb her attention, or even intrude on +her notice. True, he should himself fade away and perish (he looked very +much like it); what of that? What were misery and death to him, compared +with her ease and peace of mind?</p> + +<p>Thereupon he would disappear for two or three days, during which time +Belle would work herself into a fever of excitement. And when he did +return, unable, as he would say, to keep his oath to himself never to +see her again, she would receive him with such emotion and such +passionate demonstrations of delight, that the wily knave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> was satisfied +he had completed his conquest.</p> + +<p>Things were at just this pass, when Hiram received an anonymous letter, +warning him in vague terms of what was going on, but mentioning no +names.</p> + +<p>Hiram was thunderstruck. On reflection, he was convinced that it was the +work of some envious person, who had got up the note to cause him or his +daughter annoyance; or else that it was a miserable joke, perpetrated by +some foolish fellow. So entirely was he assured that one or the other +hypothesis was correct, that he dismissed the matter from his mind. He +carried the note home, however, and handed it to Belle in a playful +manner, while he bestowed his customary caress, and received a kiss in +return.</p> + +<p>'Young lady, what do you think of that?' he asked.</p> + +<p>It was fortunate—or rather most unfortunate—that Hiram did not +entertain the slightest suspicion of his daughter: else he would have +been led to scrutinize her countenance as he made the remark.</p> + +<p>Like most persons who are accustomed to decide for themselves, he never +questioned the correctness of his judgment after it was once formed.</p> + +<p>Belle, for an instant, felt the floor sinking away under her feet!</p> + +<p>It was only for an instant.</p> + +<p>With the readiness for which the sex are so remarkable, she at once gave +way to a most violent exhibition of temper. She walked up and down the +room, apparently in a transport of rage; she tore the note into a +hundred pieces, and <i>threw them into the grate</i>.</p> + +<p>What was to be done? What would her father do to punish the miscreant +who had dared take such a liberty with her name? Boldly she stepped +before him, and asked the question.</p> + +<p>During these exhibitions, Hiram stood smiling all the while. Belle was +very handsome, and never, as he thought, so brilliant as at that moment, +giving vent to her woman's passion.</p> + +<p>It was really so. Her form, her face, her eyes worked so harmoniously in +the scene she had got up to cover what was below the surface, that she +did present, to any one whose senses were arbiters, a most beautiful +display.</p> + +<p>'You are laughing at me, papa—I see very plainly you are laughing at +me! I will not endure it! I—'</p> + +<p>'Belle,' interrupted her father, 'you little goose, what do you think I +care for the scribbling of any fool that chooses to disgrace himself? +What should you, my daughter, care? To be sure, I can understand why you +may suddenly give way to your feelings; but there is reason in all +things. Don't you think the miserable fellow who penned that scrawl +(by-the-way, you have very foolishly destroyed it, provided you did wish +to trace it out)—I say, don't you think the fellow who perpetrated the +ridiculous joke would be pleased enough to see how you take it?'</p> + +<p>He took his daughter by the arm—a very beautiful arm—and gave her a +little shake—a playful, pleasant shake. Looking her in the face, he +said: 'Answer me, Belle—am I not right? Have you not sense enough to +see that I am right?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, I suppose so, papa. You are always right. That is, I never can +answer your arguments; but—'</p> + +<p>'That will do, Belle. Run off to your room, and come down quite yourself +for dinner.'</p> + +<p>Belle gave her father an arch smile, to show how obedient she was, and +bounded away.</p> + +<p>Hiram watched his daughter with delight as she ran up the staircase, and +his heart exulted in the possession of a child so charming and +attractive.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ANDES" id="THE_ANDES"></a>THE ANDES.</h2> + + +<p>The Andes, like a vast wall, extend along the western coast of South +America. Woods cluster, like billows of foliage, around the feet of the +mountains. A vast network of intersecting streams is woven by the +gigantic warp and woof of these mountains. Many brooks, stealing along, +scarcely heard, over the table-lands, and many fierce torrents, dashing +wildly through rocky crevices, fill the great streams that roll, some +into the Caribbean Sea, some into the near Pacific; while one, the +mighty Amazon, stretches across the continent for more than three +thousand miles, and swells the Atlantic with the torrents of the Andes. +The keel of a vessel entering the Amazon from the Atlantic, may cut +through waters that once fell as flakes of snow on the most western +ridges of the Andes, and glistened with the last rays of the sun as he +sank in the Pacific.</p> + +<p>A spell of fascination hangs about the Amazon. Its wonders, known and +unknown, have a marvellous attraction; and the perils encountered in its +exploration give a throb of interest to its very name.</p> + +<p>How terrible were the sufferings of Gonzalo Pizarro and his companions, +who set forth in youth and vigor to explore the valley of the Amazon! +How worn and haggard the survivors returned to Quito, leaving some of +the daring cavaliers of Spain to bleach in death on the wild plain, or +to moulder in the lonely glen! No river has sadder chronicles of +suffering and danger than the Amazon. Still, the exploration, so +hazardous, yet of such vast value, will go on. Many a hero in the great +war with nature will follow the track of Herndon, the noble man as well +as the brave explorer, who escaped the perils of the great river, only +to sink, with his manly heart, into the great deep.</p> + +<p>In science as in war, ranks after ranks may fall; but the living press +on to fill the vacant places. The squadrons are ever full and eager for +service. To search new lands through and through, or to drag old cities +from the graves of centuries, men will advance as heroically as an army +moves to the capture of Chapultepec. Not a flower can breathe forth its +fragrance, though in marshes full of venomous serpents and of as deadly +malaria, but science will count its leaves, and copy with unerring +pencil the softest tints that stain them with varied bloom and beauty. +Science will detect every kind of rock in the structure of the most +defiant crag. Not a bird can chant or build its nest in the most leafy +shade, but science will find the nest, describe every change of color on +the feathers of the little singer, and set to music every tone that +gushes from its tiny throat. Not a gem can repose safe from seizure, in +the rocks, in the sand, or in the torrent. Not a star can twinkle in the +abyss of night, but science will tell its rate of light, and describe +its silent and mysterious orbit. Torrid heat, the earthquake, the +tornado, the pestilence, mountains of ice, craters of flame—science +will dare them all, to know one more law of nature. God speed the daring +of science, if only her votaries will not place the law in the place of +Him who made both it and the works which it was commissioned to guide. +Science, when she has found the highest and the most comprehensive law +of nature, has not touched Deity itself; she has but touched the hem of +the garment of the Great Lawgiver.</p> + +<p>One veteran of science, Alexander von Humboldt, has yielded to the great +law of humanity, as inexorable as any that he found in nature. His +researches in South America, though mainly con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>fined to the valley of +the Oronoco, were most thorough, and his array of facts and observations +are of inestimable value. Yet, Humboldt searched into nature with the +coldness of the anatomist, content with examining its material +structure, rather than with the zeal of one who seeks images of Divine +power impressed alike on solid rocks and gliding streams. Science, +however rigid, would not have restrained the ardor of homage to the +Author of creative energy and grandeur, bursting forth irrepressibly in +scenes where angels would have adored the Great First Cause, and where +man can do no less.</p> + +<p>Humboldt's fame as an observer is founded on a rock which no mortal +power can shake. He lacked the reverential insight into the higher and +deeper powers of nature, but, so far as his mental eyes saw, he +described surely and vividly the manifestations of those powers. He was +an observer of wonderful skill in the outer courts of nature, though he +seemed either not to seek or to be bewildered in seeking her interior +shrine. He exemplified rather the talent than the genius of discovery, +the patient sagacity which accumulates materials, rather than the fervid +enthusiasm which traces the stream of nature's action to its spring, the +great Creative Will. Yet, the very title of Humboldt's great work, the +concentrated fruit of a life of toil, 'Cosmos,' meaning beauty and +order, and, then, the visible world, as illustrating both, seems to show +a gleam of feeling above the spirit of material research. His warmest +admirer could have respecting him no worthier hope than that he, who has +left the scene of earthly beauty which he so long and diligently +studied, may have had the joy to discern, in the sphere of celestial +order, the Cosmos of the skies, higher and deeper truths than external +nature can teach.</p> + +<p>An American artist, Church, has portrayed with great force and beauty +some portions of the inspiring scenery of the Andes. Church's pictures +are avowedly compositions, and not transcripts of actual views; yet, +they are not more remarkable for ideal beauty than for truthfulness to +nature. Although no real scenes among the Andes correspond to his +painting, yet the glorious characteristics of the Andes are seen in +every line, in every color, in all the strange lights and shadows of his +paintings. Imagination, which sees at once the powers and proportions of +things, is, when joined to a feeling heart, the surest guide to him who +would describe natural truth, whether of the souls of men or of material +forms. The realists of art may not be so well satisfied with a +composition, as with the delineation, line by line, and point by point, +of a scene in nature; yet the more comprehensive critic will own that +universality will gain by the composition far more than local identity +can lose. By his imaginative skill, Church has portrayed in two or three +pictures those characteristics of scenery which, to be faithfully +delineated in copies from actual views, would require a hundred +paintings. This is alike his best defence and his highest praise.</p> + +<p>In recalling my own observations among these noble mountains, and in +striving to express them in language, I feel how much higher is the +vantage ground of the painter. One may examine for hours the canvas, +until every scene is fixed on the memory as on the canvas itself. Yet I +will endeavor to give a general view of the scenery of the stupendous +Andes—stupendous truly, yet among those mountains are scenes of such +quiet beauty as to touch the heart as tenderly as softest music.</p> + +<p>Scarcely a hundred miles from the Pacific Ocean arise some of the +highest peaks of the Andes, yet the way upward is much longer. From the +coast, or from the decks of ships sailing by it, may be seen, in clear +weather, some of the peaks of the mountains. On the shores, hazes and +mists often temper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> the tropical sun and obscure distant objects; but, +at early morning and evening, sometimes the great snowy dome of +Chimborazo may be seen afar, towering in majesty above the tropical +verdure between its base and the ocean. It looks as if invading the +heavens with its colossal form; and at such times it wears a vesture of +glory. A few years ago, in New England, of a clear night in the depth of +winter, an aurora of the north reddened the whole sky; and the earth +beneath, covered with snow, was as red as the sky above. Imagine such an +aurora to fall upon the snowy summit of a mountain four miles high, and +you may conceive how attractive is the flush of beauty upon the brow of +Chimborazo at sunrise and at sunset.</p> + +<p>Turn from the broad Pacific, as its long waves glance in the sun; and, +as the morning tide washes up the tropical rivers, go with it along one +of them, a part of the way, perhaps, in a sailing vessel or a steamer, +but the rest in a light canoe. Tropical shrubbery and forests line the +banks of the stream. New forms and modes of life impress the traveller +from the temperate zone. The scenery of the tropics, so long the wonder +of the imagination, now expands in wild luxuriance before the sight. +When you have gone as far as you can along the winding river, waiting, +perhaps, for hours, here and there upon the bank, in some rude cabin, or +under the shade of some broad fragrant tree, for the returning tide from +the ocean to bear you swiftly on; disembark upon a strange soil, and +prepare to pursue your journey by mules or horses.</p> + +<p>You reach the forests, and pierce their dark recesses by narrow paths, +mere winding threads of road. Great clouds of foliage press around you, +and, at the slightest breeze, thrill with that murmur of myriads of +trees, which is so full of mystery and awe; for there, the very forests, +unbroken and unbounded, seem audibly to breathe together with mystical +accord, and to blend low quivering tones with the grand chorus which +swells daily upward from vales and mountains, seas and shores.</p> + +<p>Interspersed with the thick foliage, on every hand are blossoms and +fruits of every tropical kind. Pale, white bridal blossoms clothe the +orange tree, or golden fruit hangs among its clusters of glossy leaves. +The starry rind and pale-green crown of the pineapple tempt you to enjoy +the luscious fruit. High in air the cocoanut tree lifts its palmy +diadem. The long broad leaves of the plantain protect its branches of +green or yellow fruit, and throw a grateful shade upon the way, open +here and there. Here is, indeed "a wilderness of sweets," and the air is +full of blended fragrances. While the eye ranges, seeing trees, fruits, +and flowers innumerable, of glorious hues and countless kinds, most +never seen by you before, or at least only as exotics, the ear also +takes in varied sounds. Birds are singing, insects humming; every tree +seems a choir, and the immeasurable forest a wide congregation of joyful +voices.</p> + +<p>You are now on the lowest stage of that sublime gradation of climates +and scenery displayed by the Andes. You cross it in two or three days' +journey (for, as in the East, so, in the mountainous regions of South +America, travelling is measured less by miles than by days' journeys). +You then arrive at the foot of one of the mountains. Stop and look up! A +ridge covered with forests to its very top stands steep before you. The +wind makes tremulous the masses of evergreen foliage, which are now +shaded by the reluctant mists of the morning, slowly ascending, and now +are bright with the full splendor of noon. Above that ridge rises +another, and another yet, unseen at the foot. Begin the ascent. The +mules tremble as they strive to keep their hold on the steep, slippery +soil. Press upward in zigzag paths for hours. Reach the top of the +ridge, and descend into the val<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>ley between it and another higher +opposite; then, ascend again. As you thus slowly, patiently, yet surely +reach the heart of the mountainous region, wild diversity of views holds +you bound in wonder and strange delight. Here are level places—here +pure, bright brooks glide on as smoothly as in meadows. There, a torrent +rushes over crags, foaming and roaring in an everlasting cascade. Before +you may be a hillside, green with luxuriant pasturage, where flocks and +herds graze quietly through the day, while the shepherd, with his crook +and harmonic pipe, reminds you of classic scenes. Turn aside—and you +may look down into cavernous recesses, whose gloomy, depths you cannot +measure. Scenes fair and fearful meet in the same horizon. So, in life, +the gentle charities, that, like the face of Una, make sunshine in the +shady place, are often found not far from rugged rage and black despair. +Press on through glad and sombre scenery. Press upward in steep ways, +miry and craggy, narrow and broad, by turns.</p> + +<p>Now, so deep are the paths cut in the mountain, so high are the banks, +so contracted is the way, that, the higher you rise, the less you appear +to see; and you feel disappointed at missing the grand horizon of +smaller mountains, on which, coming nearer the summit, you expected to +look; but now, a shout of exultation breaks from your lips; and well it +may. A new Pacific Ocean seems to expand before you, as if by some +sudden enchantment. It is an ocean of constant verdure and inexhaustible +fertility, spreading far, far below you, as far as you can see, on every +side but that from which, high on the mountain top, you look down upon +the view. The seeming ocean is the first table land, whose soft, green +undulations fill the horizon, though, when the sky is clear, the snowy +mountains may be seen far away, dazzling the heavens and the earth with +their brightness. Spring and autumn here join hands, consecrating the +double seedtime and the double harvest of the year. Yonder is a field of +ripened grain. And there is the Indian laborer, near his cabin of thatch +and clay, guiding the rude ploughshare through the fertile soil.</p> + +<p>Descend the mountain, and, crossing that sea of beauty, ascend the +mountains beyond. The scenes, just now all soft and pleasing, give way +to others which unite the lovely and the severe. Look upward. There +rises a mountain, so gently curving and so green, so alluring with its +light and shade, that it seems the very emblem of graceful majesty, +looking as if it must know its wondrous beauty, and as calm as if no +wind strong enough to make a violet tremble could ever breathe upon its +face; yet near, in vivid contrast, stands a craggy peak, towering up, +up, toward the deep blue sky, so broken and so black that it seems like +the very Giant Despair of mountains, frowning with unearthly fierceness +upon his gentle neighbor, who returns his grim looks with meek and +placid trust. Where whirlwinds and tempests await the signal for howling +desolation, stands the beautiful colossal image of sublime serenity.</p> + +<p>Again, steep, rocky roads lead over rugged cliffs. Your horses climb +panting, and descend, picking their steps, upon the other side. Stop +awhile on this green space, a valley between two high ridges. Countless +flowers spread fragrance and beauty around. They are not those alone of +the strictly tropical level, but, owing to the height above the sea, the +floral wealth of the temperate zone is embosomed in the torrid region +itself, and adds the charm of an almost magical diversity to the +intrinsic splendors of the scene. See small objects flitting about from +flower to flower. They are the smallest and most delicate of +hummingbirds, nowhere found but in America. Watch their colors, changing +with every changing motion, purple, crimson, golden, green. It is as if +the very flowers had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> taken life, and were revelling with conscious glee +in the soft, bright air. The hues of these birds are dazzlingly bright. +The little creatures glance about like prismatic rays embodied in the +smallest visible forms.</p> + +<p>After gazing upon these hummingbirds with joy as great as theirs, as +they revel like fairies in the profusion of this flowery valley, look +upward on the high, grand ridges that close it in. What suddenly starts +from the very top of yon cliff, and floats in the air, high, high, above +you? It is the great condor, expanding his broad wings, wheeling in +flight from ridge to ridge, curving with majestic motion, now poising +himself upon his wings, now apparently descending, now suddenly but +gracefully turning upward, until his lessening shape has gone beyond the +farthest reach of sight. The hummingbird and the condor; hillsides +covered with sheep; rocky ridges inaccessible to man or beast; brooks +that quiver gently on; impetuous torrents; the beauty of Eden and craggy +desolation like that of chaos—these all can you see among the Andes.</p> + +<p>Let not the fascination of this valley, the songs of birds, the flowers, +the hummingbirds glistening among them like gems, the soft outlines of +the scenery detain you long. Harder and sterner scenes await you. The +Andes are a picture of life. Every cliff records a lesson; and the +unnumbered flowers interweave with their varied dyes and rich perfumes +gentle suggestions, sweet similitudes for the understanding and the +heart. If, as in this charming valley, the senses may be dissolved in +joy, and the spirit would linger willingly in rapt delight, soon some +hard experience, kindly sent, requires one to brace all manly energy for +the rough encounter, the blast of peril, and duty's steep and craggy +road. You ascend in narrowing ways, casting long, lingering looks upon +the valley, whenever it opens to view between the cliffs.</p> + +<p>Here, the ridges are so near together that the shrubbery from the top of +each joins in an arch overhead. There, you pass along by the side of a +mountain, in a path which affords scarcely room for a single horseman, +and where he who enters the close defile, shouts aloud, and, if the +first, thus gains a right of way through, and parties on the other side, +hearing the shout, must wait their turn. Now, you leave for a while the +narrow road, and descend upon a beautiful table land, bounded on the +sides by parallel but distant mountains; and the open places reveal +fertile plains in far perspective. Light streams through the wide, clear +space in a golden tide of splendor. Again, you are partly surrounded by +an amphitheatre of hills, rising in gradations, and of such impressive +magnitude and extent that one might imagine that here the secret forces +of nature are wont to take bodily shape, to look on the grand tragic +storms which their own fearful agency has raised.</p> + +<p>Now, on one side, the mountains subside into soft undulations; on the +other, the ridges are colossal, dark, and broken, and along the edges of +their successive summits is a line of snow, varying with the line of the +cliffs, and glittering like burnished silver in the sun, above the +jagged battlements. The deep blue sky, the shining snow, the huge, dark, +rocky bases, the different shades of color harmoniously blending, the +soft and rugged shapes contrasting vividly—well may impress the soul +with pleasure-relieving awe, with awe-ennobling pleasure.</p> + +<p>Dismount awhile for rest. Enter this rude, thatched house by the +wayside, on a level spot. Laden mules pass by in crowds, attended by +Indian drivers, each of whom doffs his hat and blesses you—a mere +ceremony, it may be, but one in picturesque keeping with the scenery. +Invigorated by the breeze, the shade, the rest, prepare to go higher, +higher, higher yet. First, pluck some of these roses that grow profusely +around you, that, if you reach the line<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> of snow that never melts, you +may place upon the cold bosom of perpetual winter these blushing symbols +of perpetual spring.</p> + +<p>Again, you reach the edge of a cliff, through the deep, narrow valley +between which and the cliff opposite pours a furious torrent, which, +resounding louder and louder as it is approached, now drowns all other +sounds in its despotic roar. But, fearful as it looks, it must be +crossed. Some of these torrents are spanned by bridges; but most of them +are so impetuous, especially in the rainy season, that bridges even of +stone would be undermined, and those of timber would be swept away like +wisps of straw. You must now trust to the sagacity of your mules or +horses. You descend the precipitous side of the cliff, seeming to +yourself as if about to fall headlong into the torrent; but after a +painful and perilous jaunt, you reach its level. Its roar now confuses +and nearly stuns you. Each side is more or less precipitous, and you +seem at the mercy of the furious tide, while jutting rocks above seem +just ready to be loosened by some convulsion, and to crush you with +their merciless weight: meantime, your horse stands unmoved by the peril +before or above him, apparently deaf to the noise of the torrent, and +quietly surveys the rapids, as if to select the safest point to cross. +Disturb him not. He takes his time, and places one foot and then another +in the torrent. As he reaches the main current, he trembles, not with +fear, but with the effort to keep himself from being swept against the +rocks. He may be able to keep his footing and to walk across, though +panting and shaking at every step; or the stream may be so deep that he +is forced to swim. If so, he bears up <i>manfully</i> (if one may say so) +against the rushing force, and at last scrambles up the least steep peak +of the opposite bank, bearing you more dizzy than he is. But the bank +itself is only the foot of a ridge as precipitous as that which you +descended to reach the stream. Quietly, patiently, surely the horse +ascends. A sudden misstep or unwary slip among the loose stones of the +path would send you far backward into the torrent which you have just +escaped. This very seldom happens, for the horses and mules have been +well trained for the service. In all the perils, the horse or mule is a +safer guide than you. Give him a free rein, and he will bear you up the +hardest, roughest, steepest places.</p> + +<p>You are now high among the Andes, far above every sign of tropical +vegetation; and, although hourly you are approaching the equatorial +line, yet hourly also it is growing colder. Look up! A snowy peak rises +directly before you, and seems to challenge you with its refulgent, +inaccessible majesty. The sight at first almost appals, but fascinates. +The feeling of fear soon surrenders to absorbing enjoyment of the +sublimity of the scene. The more you look, the more you desire to look. +There stands the mountain, a single glance at which repays all the +fatigue and danger of the road;—there it stands, as high above the +Pacific Ocean as if Vesuvius should be piled upon itself again, and +again, and yet again. Clear snow covers it with a robe of dazzling +light.</p> + +<p>The snowy peak, though it seems so near in the pure atmosphere, is a +weary distance off. As you advance slowly and laboriously upward, the +wind blows almost like a hurricane. You can hardly breast its force. It +grows colder and colder. Here, on the equator, man may freeze to death. +Bear a stout heart and a firm face against the cold and the wind.</p> + +<p>Now it is too steep even for the horses and mules of the Andes. You are +ascending toward the snowy peak whose alluring brightness has charmed +the long way, since you saw it first. Dismount and climb as you can +among the rocks. The glittering snow is near. You pant as if you might +soon lose all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> power to breathe again; yet, press on, and now touch at +last the pure, bright, equatorial snow.</p> + +<p>Would you now reach the very summit which shines far, far above you, +arrayed in glowing white. That you cannot do. Angels descending on +ministries of grace may touch that snowy mountain top, but mortal feet +it never felt. That radiant peak is sacred from bold endeavor and the +assaults of battle. War's gory feet never climbed so far. War's flaming +torch never stained that pure and snowy light. Swords never flashed +among those white defiles. Angels of peace guard the tops of the Andes. +There is truce to all the rage of earth. During the middle ages, an +interval in every week was sacred from the assaults of foes. It was +called the Truce of God. Not for three days, but for countless ages, +from the birth of time to the final consummation, on these snowy summits +of the Andes shines in pure white the Holy Truce of God.</p> + +<p>In Italy and Sicily, an ethereal veil, a pale, blue gossamer, spreads +over the scenery, as if each object had caught some delicate reflection +from the blue heavens above; and the golden illumination of this misty +veil causes the peculiar charm of Italian sunsets. This effect is +generally wanting in the scenery of the Andes near the equator, though +among the mountains more remote, a similar effect is sometimes seen. +Among the Andes of the equatorial region, so pure is the air, that the +farthest objects visible are exactly defined. The curves and angles of +distant cliffs are as clearly seen as those of masses of rock at one's +side. Hardly a ray of light is so refracted as to disturb the perfect +shape and color of any object in the horizon. The splendor of the sun +brings out the true colors of everything within the range of sight; and +so various are these colors, and so diversified are the groupings of +ridges and valleys, in the scenery of the Andes of the equator, that the +pure developing and defining light and the clear air of that region +produce effects as enchanting as the transforming light and the soft +veiling air of Italy. At sunrise and at sunset, indeed, but especially +at sunset, a rosy light tinges the snowy summits of the far-off +mountains, but those near shine with pure white, like mountains of +silver. The hue of every precious stone is found in the colors of the +Andes. Even the crevices on the rocky sides of the mountains without +verdure seem when the sun shines upon them to be filled and overflowing +with warm hues, varying from the softest lilac to the deep, rich, +pervading purple which the artist loves to revel in. Each of the Andes, +besides his emerald or pearly crown, seems also to wear, like the high +priest of old, a jewelled breastplate, reflecting on earth the glory of +the skies.</p> + +<p>The table lands of the Andes, especially when seen from above, resemble +the rolling prairies of western North America. Both have the same +beautiful and various undulations, though those of the table lands are +bolder. The prairies are far more extensive; though, often, the table +lands present as broad a horizon of gently curving land. These table +lands in some places extend like vast halls between widely separate but +parallel chains of the Andes—again, like broad corridors along a line +of ridges—again, like wide landings to gigantic stairs, of which the +stone steps are mountains—again, they expand in hollows surrounded by +hills, like lakes of land. Here is one large enough for several small +farms only—there, many towns and rural estates are found on the same +table land. Here is one which you may traverse in an hour—there is one +which may be several days' journey across.</p> + +<p>The agricultural wealth of the Andes is mainly concentrated in these +table lands, in these millions of rolling acres. The table lands are +above the region of forests. About the watercourses, on the farms, and +in the towns, a few trees<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> may be found—sometimes avenues of them laid +out with care and beauty; and the fruit trees of the temperate zone may +here be cultivated; but the great forests of the tropical level and the +pines of the mountains are absent.</p> + +<p>The <i>Paramos</i> are sandy plains, in fact, mountain deserts, in the dry +season liable to great droughts, and in the wet season to fearful +snowstorms. The armies of Independence, during the wars between Spain +and South America, suffered terrible hardships and exposures in the +<i>Paramos</i>. The <i>Pampas</i> are wide and level plains, not so high as the +table lands, where graze innumerable herds of wild cattle. They are +beyond the ranges of mountains, in the more central parts of South +America. There are none west of the Andes.</p> + +<p>The table lands complete the sublime varieties of the scenery. Their +serenity enchants, as the grandeur of the mountains that rise above them +exalts the mind. The works of nature are not only adapted to human need +with Omniscient skill, as these fertile lands among the sterner +mountains prove; but, feelings different, yet harmonious, are excited by +the combinations of Infinite Power. The emotion of awe, being one of +great concentration, becomes even painful, if the tension of the mind be +too long sustained; and so He who tempers the ineffable splendor of His +immediate presence even to the gaze of angels, with the rainbow of +emerald about his throne, with the sea of crystal, the tree of life, or +the gates of precious stones, also soothes the sublimity of mountains +with gentle traits of scenery and soft gradations of color which give +enjoyment more passive than awe, and rather captivate than overpower the +eye and soul.</p> + +<p>From the table lands can often be seen in the distance snow-covered tops +of mountains, projected in bold, white outlines against the deep-blue +sky; and there the sky is really blue, not of that pale tinge that often +passes for it, but of a deeper blue than even the rich October sky of +North America. As if joining the sky, are the shining summits of the +mountains. The two ethereal colors, blue and white, thus meet in +dazzling harmony. Sometimes so many of these white, towering heights can +be seen, and in so different quarters, that one may almost fancy the sky +itself to be a vast dome of sapphire supported by gigantic pillars of +marble.</p> + +<p>Most of the cities, villages, and farms are on these table lands. Often, +for the sake of the grand view, a villa is built on a steep ridge, +within sight of the broad, undulating surface of some plateau; or, in +some position of peerless beauty, the glittering cross on some convent +may be seen. The Spanish race appreciate the picturesque, as is shown by +their choice of sites, not only in Spain, but in Spanish America. The +poetical, imaginative character which has marked Spanish annals for +centuries, still marks those who have any claim to Spanish descent. The +South American, though half an Indian, recognizes the grandeur of his +native mountains, and the beauty of the broad, fertile valleys, while a +thorough-going Anglo-Saxon of North America, in the same places, would +calculate whether or not the torrent that rushes foaming and glittering +down the mountain is too steep to serve a mill, or whether the smaller +mountains might not be levelled for building lots; or he would gaze upon +some beautiful table land with wonder indeed, but with wonder chiefly +how much wheat or barley there grows to the acre, or can be made to +grow. The table lands produce the grains and fruits of the temperate +zone; and, accordingly, proprietors who own, as many do, estates on the +tropical and on the temperate level, may supply their tables with fruits +from their own grounds, for which, in other countries, the world must be +brought under contribution. The soil is cultivated mainly by Indians. +Descendants of the ancient rulers of the land now till the fields of the +descendants of the conquerors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some, indeed, representing more or less the Indian part of the +population, are owners of estates; yet a full Indian rarely has lands of +his own. He is a hewer of wood and a drawer of water, tills the fields, +and performs most of the drudgery of the country. More South Americana +of Indian descent, out of the general population, have gained honor and +power than could possibly have done so under the confined and absolute +sway of the Incas. The Indians of all Spanish America have progressed, +however slowly and rudely, in the arts, labors, culture, and faith of +Christian civilization, and, in the aggregate, are in advance of the +Indians of Anglo-America.</p> + +<p>Let the imagination survey the whole range of the Andes for their vast +extent of sixty degrees of latitude. On every level space are seen the +signs of culture and human habitation, fields green with the early +grain, or yellow with the harvest. The roads now wind through forests of +constant shade, even under the burning sun of the equator; now they turn +with gentle windings, or with steep abruptness, while below spread +bright and beautiful lands, and interesting the more because associated +with the homes and lives of men.</p> + +<p>In the grandest scenery, some sign of man's abode will be grateful. No +one, indeed, whose soul has not been warped out of all likeness to the +Divine image which it once wore, can regard without abhorrence such +intrusions of noisy machinery into scenes of natural sublimity as, for +instance, have desecrated the neighborhood of Niagara Falls, and +which would have done so yet more, but for the energetic and +forever-praiseworthy resistance of the proprietors of adjacent grounds; +as if America, with her thousands of miles of rivers, and almost +infinite number of rapid, unfailing brooks, had not mill privileges +enough, without daring to insult the Divine Majesty by wresting the +Falls of Niagara from their true design. The spirit of gain, which has +been eager, though—thanks be to God—it has not been able to spoil the +natural glory of Niagara, is vile, degraded, base enough to sell a +mother's dying gift for gold, or to seize, if it had the power, the +jewelled gates of the New Jerusalem as collateral security for its +meagre faith in anything divine.</p> + +<p>But, though the presence of that sacrilegious materialism, of that +practical blasphemy, which defies creative Deity at the very shrines +where its infinite power is most wonderfully displayed, is a plague +spot, a malignant sign of spiritual leprosy, which warns all to beware +of its vile contagion; yet, the suggestions of rural toil, the sight of +tilled fields, the cottage, the shepherd and his flock, are all +harmonious with nature, even in her grandeur; for they show that the +glorious wonders of earth were given, not, indeed, to be distorted, but +to be enjoyed by man; and even the stupendous mountain derives a new +charm from the reflection that it may minister daily to the elevation of +the soul, while the benign fertility of the valley sustains the natural +life.</p> + +<p>How pleasantly these villages nestle upon the breasts of the mountains, +as if there to find shelter from the stormy blast! Trains of mules, +attended by their drivers, whose shrill shouts echo among the rocky +hills, wind upward, laden with rich tropical fruits from the coast, or +with goods from other lands. Other trains descend, laden with grain and +the fruits of the temperate zone, from the higher districts. +Well-guarded mules bear bars of precious silver from the mountain mines +for the currency of the world, or to render dazzling service on the +tables of nobles and kings in foreign lands. Look upon the gorgeous +clouds above you, as if the snowy Andes were soaring heavenward; reach +higher points, and look upon shining clouds far below, as if the same +snowy mountains had descended to bow in meek devotion. The llama, the +delicate beast of burden, sometimes called the Peruvian camel,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> with +gently curving neck, moves gracefully on, turning often and quickly, +from side to side, mild, plaintive eyes, as if entreating pity.</p> + +<p>The cascade glances like a streak of silver from the mountain at your +side; in the valley you see the sweet, calm lake, or you hear the +torrent, sounding among shadowy woodlands, never weary, never still. +Stand on a lofty ridge, and look abroad on the vast, snowy heights that +appear in the horizon;—then let the 'mind's eye' look beyond the +horizon, and behold similar peaks stretching three thousand miles along. +Then bend reverently before Him who has made earth so grand.</p> + +<p>Go to the galleries of Rome and Florence. It is wise to gather new +beauty to the soul from works of art, and to study the exquisite graces +which the great masters have gathered from nature and delineated in +glowing canvas or in lasting marble; yet, here is a gallery of paintings +by the Great Master and Author of all sublimity and beauty in heaven and +earth, extending, not from room to room of buildings made with hands and +roofed with cedar, but from hall to hall of nature's colossal cathedral, +roofed by the infinite sky. Look at these pictures, ever changing, yet +ever grand, of majestic mountains, of reposing valleys, of fertile +plains, of rural homes, of streams and waterfalls, of vast forests, of +myriad forms of life and beauty, of sunrise, sunset, and the glittering +moon. What a marvellous variety in the objects portrayed! What surprises +at every turn! Colors more brilliant than Titian or Allston could +combine, join in harmonious effect on every side, and grace and vigor, +beauty and grandeur, are blended in every scene and almost in every +outline. Would you examine the famous statues of the world, and admire +the symmetry of form and power of expression drawn forth by human skill +from the hard, white stone? Or will the fragments of ancient art give +delight for their expressive beauty, visible though in broken forms? +Behold here a gallery of statuary, a line of divine masterpieces, whiter +than Parian marble, wrought by the '<span class="smcap">Ancient of Days</span>.' Will you +admire Michael Angelo's colossal 'Day and Night'? and revere the mortal +genius that can so impress the soul? Give homage, then, for the majesty +of power with which He who created and adorned the universe has +displayed, among the Andes, Day and Night—Day robed with unutterable +splendor, Night with transcendent awe.</p> + +<p>Mountains!—the grandest of nature's visible works—ye are also the +figures of majesty, of strength, of loftiness of soul! Ye are the raised +letters which record on the great globe the history of man! Ye are the +mighty scales in which the fate of nations has been weighed! Ye have +checked the march of conquest, or inspired with new, defiant energy the +conqueror's will! Your ranges are the projecting lines which mark, on +the great dialplate of the world, the shadows of the rolling ages! On +your steep, bleak heights empires have been lost and won! Ye show how +weak is man, how great is God!</p> + +<p>Ye are the home of meditation, the colossal pillars of the audience +chamber of the Deity! The Mount of Contemplation rises far above the +mists of partial opinion and the mire of conflict, the discords of +jangling interests and the refractions of divided policies, girt by a +serene and sublime horizon, and within hearing of Nature's everlasting +song.</p> + +<p>Behold the holy family of mountains, on which the angels look with +reverential wonder: the Mount of Awe, black with clouds and vivid with +lightnings, whence descended the guide of wandering Israel, with light +divine reflected on his brow; the Mount of Transfiguration, where native +Deity gleamed from the face of the benign Messiah on adoring, rapt +disciples; the Mount of Sorrow, where the world's grief was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> borne, and +which celestial grace has made the Mount of Joy to 'numbers without +number;'—the Mount of Ascension, where last stood on earth Incarnate +Mercy. Look up! look up! See how the angelic guards point with +amaranthine wands afar, where glows, beyond the vale of tears, the +Mountain of Immortal Life.</p> + +<p>Behold, in exalted vision, the mountains of Asia and of the islands of +the Eastern seas, of Africa, of Europe, of America;—see how they are +baptized with fire, one after, another, as the sun rises, to spread +around the world the light of its daily consecration. How sadly is the +world's morning glory soiled and dimmed by thoughtless man ere comes +again the dark and silent night!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NATIONAL_FRIENDSHIPS" id="NATIONAL_FRIENDSHIPS"></a>NATIONAL FRIENDSHIPS.</h2> + + +<p>Not long after the outbreak of the present war, the loyal portion of the +country discovered that the sympathies of the British Government, and, +in a great measure, of the British nation, were with the revolted +States. The expectations of those who looked toward England for at least +a hearty moral support, were quickly destroyed by the ill-concealed +spirit of exultation which she exhibited on more than one occasion. +Although it can hardly be asserted that the great body of our people +expected from her more than an impartial observance of strict +neutrality, it nevertheless occasioned considerable surprise that a +country, called so often as herself to the task of surpressing +rebellions, should be prejudiced against ourselves when similarly +situated.</p> + +<p>With France, however, it was different. We had for years been accustomed +to regard the French as our natural allies. The amicable relations which +had existed between us, with but comparatively little interruption, +since the days of the Revolution, naturally led us to look to them for a +degree of sympathy not to be expected from our constant rivals and +competitors the English. It was with painful surprise therefore that we +shortly perceived that the French Government was, of all others, the +most hostile to our cause, and the one to be regarded with the most +suspicion and distrust.</p> + +<p>Spain also took advantage of our weakened condition to display a spirit +of enmity toward us no less decided than that observed on the part of +her more powerful neighbors. In short, of the whole great family of +European nations scarcely one expressed a friendly interest for us in +our perilous position.</p> + +<p>It is not surprising, then, that, surrounded as we were by traitors at +home, we manifested an almost unmanly regret on finding ourselves +deserted by those whom we were wont to consider as friends abroad; and +when we now reflect upon the bearing of those nations toward us, the +inquiry naturally arises, whether there really exists no such thing as +true friendship between nations. It is a mournful question; and not a +few, unwilling to believe that such is the case, will at once point to +frequent close alliances, to more than one example of the generous +behavior of one people toward another. But our own experience has taught +us that friendship exists between nations only so far as it is warranted +by interest, and that all the instances referred to as proving the +contrary, have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> owing to the personal influence of high-minded men, +who, at the time, were in power; and even in such cases a far-sighted +policy will frequently prove to have been the ruling motive which +prompted their apparently disinterested measures.</p> + +<p>And here we pause to consider what considerations of interest could have +stirred up such hostility to our prosperity, and caused such +gratification when our very existence was threatened. In what way would +our destruction benefit England? The advantages which she derives from +her commercial intercourse with us are far greater than any which would +accrue to her if she ruled the broken fragments of our country as she +rules the oppressed provinces of India or her distant possessions in +Australia. The same may be substantially said with regard to France. How +far from compensated would she be for the loss of such large consumers +of her staple productions as ourselves by the acquisition of portions of +territory here, which would in all likelihood prove as unprofitable as +her African dominions?</p> + +<p>Spain, too, although her shadow of an excuse for her apparent ill will +toward us may be a little darker than that of Great Britain or France, +since she doubtless hopes that by the destruction of our power and +influence, she may be able to regain her ascendency over her former +colonies, can scarcely be so blind as not to perceive that but little +attention would probably be paid to her claims by her more powerful +coadjutors in the work of our annihilation.</p> + +<p>It does not appear, then, that these nations can urge even self-interest +as a pretext for their treacherous enmity to us; and we again return to +the question, What is the cause of their continued unfriendliness?</p> + +<p>The comparison of the nation to the individual has become hackneyed, but +we are forced to the conclusion that it is not alone true in +considerations of policy and self-interest. Our experience has taught us +that it holds good in the fact that mere feelings of spiteful jealousy +and envy can, in the most powerful communities, override the dictates of +justice—nay, even of interest itself.</p> + +<p>Again, a little examination will show that a permanent friendship is not +to be expected between different nationalities, from the very nature of +their structure. A nation is composed of individuals—of individuals +whose pursuits and principles are widely distinct. The parties formed +from these different classes are often diametrically opposed to each +other in their ideas of policy and government. Moreover, their relations +with foreign countries enter, to an important extent, into the counsels +of every administration, and, as successive parties come into power, it +is not to be expected that connections with other Governments will +remain unchanged.</p> + +<p>This does not apply to the course of those countries whose conduct we +have been considering, but it teaches us that we should never place +reliance upon the long continuance of the friendship of any nation.</p> + +<p>Thus, it has already been stated, that not one of what are commonly +known as the Great Powers can be depended upon for the slightest +demonstration of friendship. Russia has indeed been generally regarded +as bearing toward us nothing but good will; yet friendly as her feelings +may be, it is owing mainly to the fact that she is so distant, and the +interests of the two countries are so widely separated, that she can +have no possible motive for turning against us; while, situated as she +is, an object of dislike to the other European Governments, she could +not be insensible to the policy of conciliating so powerful a nation as +our own.</p> + +<p>How then shall we proceed in order to preserve ourselves from +difficulties in which the interests, jealousies, or changing policy of +foreign countries may involve us? The answer has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> made before—by +being ever prepared to meet promptly all hostile demonstrations. +Situated as we are, employing our resources to quell a gigantic +insurrection, we have no strength to waste in an <i>unnecessary</i> foreign +war. But it should be remembered that if we had had an adequate force to +resist a foreign enemy three years ago, the existing rebellion would +never have assumed its present proportions. We, who in our previous wars +had made ourselves formidable, intrusted our defence to a few thousand +men, distributed throughout our broad land, and, while the former valor +of our sailors had enabled us to boast our superiority upon the sea, we +exposed ourselves, by our reliance upon a small number of old +men-of-war, scattered over the world, to the sudden loss of our naval +reputation. Large standing armaments are wisely discouraged by the +Constitution, but an army of one hundred thousand men, an immense force +for some Governments, would be but a small one for our own.</p> + +<p>We owe to our being situated apart from other nations, our ability to +dispense with the military burdens which European rulers impose upon +their subjects; but the increase of neither our land or naval power has +been proportional to our own extension, or to those modern inventions +and discoveries by which large forces can be easily and expeditiously +moved from point to point. An army, therefore, which less than half a +century ago would have been ample, is at present far from sufficient for +our protection.</p> + +<p>We must, above all, recollect that as a Government can expect the +affection and support of the people only when it shows that it possesses +the elements necessary to maintain itself and protect them, so it can +look for the friendship of other countries only when it causes to be +seen that it is able and ready to resist any encroachment upon its +rights.</p> + +<p>For the present we must depend, in a measure, for an abstinence from +open demonstrations against us on the part of the nations above referred +to, upon the moral sense of the world, which has doubtless, to a great +extent, preserved us thus far. But while it is necessary to avoid giving +any pretext for war, let no tame submission to insult or wrong lower us +in the eyes of the world, and hereafter let it be our policy, by +commanding the respect and fear of foreign nations, to assure ourselves +of their good will.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NORTH_AND_SOUTH" id="NORTH_AND_SOUTH"></a>NORTH AND SOUTH.</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">North and South the war cries come:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sounds the trumpet, beats the drum.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hosts contending, marshalled foes</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Battle while the red blood flows.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Two great armies whose Ideal</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bursts into the earnest Real.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ideals twain, on battle height</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flaming into radiant light!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One, is Freedom over all;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">One, is Slavery's tyrant thrall:</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These are written on the plain</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Mid the Battle's fiery rain.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These the Powers that must contend</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To the dark and bitter end.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Look upon the Nation's dead!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lo, the blood of martyrs shed!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dying that our Country may</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Know her Resurrection day!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What shall be the Traitor's gain?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Endless scorn, undying pain.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ever o'er the giant wrong</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sings the Right her triumph song.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yes, as sure as God doth reign</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Right the mastery shall obtain!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Over all these beauteous lands</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These two Brothers clasp their hands.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These two Brothers now at strife</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Make one heart, one soul, one life!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This at last will be their song:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'One forever, free, and strong.'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Northmen, ye have not in hate</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Closed the heart's fraternal gate!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ye have not for greed, nor gold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Forged the slave-chains manifold!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But in patience ye have wrought</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Out your Godlike, freeborn thought!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ye have toiled that man might be</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Clothed with truth and liberty.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">God hath answered from the skies;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bids you for His own arise!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now the work is at your door:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Help His meek and suffering poor!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There are hearts uncomforted,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Weeping o'er the battle-dead.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There are wounded brave ones here:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bring your hearts of kindness near!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Freedmen shiver at your gate—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let them not forgotten wait!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bind the wounded heart that bleeds;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mould your <i>speeches</i> into <i>deeds!</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This is what all true hearts say:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Glorious is our work to-day!'</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LITERARY_NOTICES" id="LITERARY_NOTICES"></a>LITERARY NOTICES.</h2> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dreamthorp</span>; A Book of Essays written in the Country. By +<span class="smcap">Alexander Smith</span>, Author of 'A Life Drama,' 'City Poems,' +etc. Boston: J.E. Tilton & Company. For sale by Walter Low, 823 +Broadway. New York.</p></div> + +<p>We have been very unexpectedly charmed with this volume. Inverted and +fantastical as he may be in his poems, Mr. Smith's essays are fresh, +natural, racy, and genial. They are models in their way, and we wish our +contributors would study them as such. Each essay is complete in itself; +every sentence full of interest; there is no straining for effect, no +writing to astonish a <i>blasé</i> audience, no show of unwonted erudition; +but the light of a poet's soul, the sunshine of a calm and loving heart, +are streaming and brooding over all these gentle pages. Knowledge is +indeed within them, but it has ripened into wisdom; culture has matured +into wine with the summer in its glow—yet, notwithstanding its many +excellences, the book is so quiet, true, and natural, we know not what +favor it may find among us. We were pleased to see that in 'A Shelf in +My Book-case' our own Hawthorne had a conspicuous place. 'Twice-Told +Tales' is an especial favorite with Mr. Smith, as it indeed is with most +imaginative people. His analysis of Hawthorne is very fine, and it is +like meeting with an old friend in a foreign land to come across the +name so dear to ourselves in these pages from across the sea. Equally +pleasant to us is the Chapter on Vagabonds. 'A fellow feeling makes us +wondrous kind,' and, confessing ourselves to be one of this genus, we +dwell with delight on our author's genial description of their naive +pleasures and innocent eccentricities. Mr. Smith says: 'The true +vagabond is to be met with among actors, poets, painters. These may grow +in any way their nature dictates. They are not required to conform to +any traditional pattern. A little more air and light should be let in +upon life. I should think the world had stood long enough under the +drill of Adjutant Fashion. It is hard work; the posture is wearisome, +and Fashion is an awful martinet and has a quick eye, and comes down +mercilessly on the unfortunate wight who cannot square his toes to the +approved pattern, or who appears upon parade with a darn in his coat or +with a shoulder belt insufficiently pipe-clayed. It is killing work. +Suppose we try 'standing at ease' for a little?'</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Scenes and Thoughts in Europe</span>. By <span class="smcap">George H. +Calvert</span>, Author of 'The Gentleman.' Boston: Little, Brown & +Company. A new edition of a work first published in 1846.</p></div> + +<p>Mr. Calvert is a writer of considerable vigor, but we think these +'Scenes and Thoughts' seriously injured by the hatred of Catholicity +which breathes everywhere through them. We miss in them the large, +liberal, and loving spirit which characterized 'The Gentleman.' Charity +is the soul of wisdom, and we can never rightly appreciate that which we +hate. Mr. Calvert totally ignores all the good and humanizing effects of +the Catholic Church, and sees only the faults and follies of those who +minister at her altars. Not the least cheering example of the progress +we are daily making, is the improvement in this respect in our late +books of travels. We have ceased to denounce in learning to describe +aright, and feel the pulsations of a kindred heart, though it beat under +the scarlet robe of the cardinal, the dalmatic of the priest, or the +coarse serge of the friar. 'My son, give me thy heart,' says our God. If +we can deem from a life of self-abnegation a man has so done, we have +ceased inquiring into the dogmas of his creed. It is the heart and not +the intellect which is required, 'Little children, love one another,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +is the true law of life, progress, and human happiness.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Soundings From the Atlantic</span>, by <span class="smcap">Oliver Wendell +Holmes</span>. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. For sale by D. Appleton & +Co., New York.</p></div> + +<p>As the title indicates, the essays contained in this volume are already +known to the readers of <i>The Atlantic</i>.</p> + +<p>Wherever Dr. Holmes sounds, he is sure to light upon pearls and golden +sands, and scatter them about with a profusion so reckless that we feel +convinced the supply is not to be exhausted. Scientist and poet, analyst +and creator, full of keen satire, genial humor, and tender pathos, who +may compete with him in varied gifts, or rival the charm of intellectual +grace which he breathes at will into all he writes?</p> + +<p>The contents of this volume are: 'Bread and the Newspaper,' 'My Hunt +After the Captain,' 'The Stereoscope and the Stereograph,' 'Sun Painting +and Sun Sculpture,' 'Doings of the Sunbeam,' 'The Human Wheel, its +Spokes and Felloes,' 'A Visit to the Autocrat's Landlady,' 'A Visit to +the Asylum for Aged and Decayed Punsters,' 'The Great Instrument,' 'The +Inevitable Trial.'</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Hints for the Nursery</span>; or, The Young Mother's Guide. By +Mrs. <span class="smcap">C. A. Hopkinson</span>. Boston: Little, Brown & Company, +1863. For sale by Blakeman & Mason.</p></div> + +<p>A valuable and instructive little book, eminently calculated to spare +the rising generation many a pang in body and mind, and the youthful +mother many a heartache.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Life and Letters of John Winthrop</span>, Governor of the +Massachusetts Bay Company, at their Emigration to New England, +1630. By <span class="smcap">Robert C. Winthrop</span>. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. For +sale by D. Appleton & Co., New York.</p></div> + +<p>This work is dedicated to the Massachusetts Historical Society, who have +honored the author with their presidency for eight years past. It is +rather an autobiography than a biography, and an autobiography of the +most trustworthy kind, 'written accidentally and unconsciously, as it +were, in familiar letters or private journals, or upon the records of +official service.' Such a Life is the volume before us. The most skilful +use has been made of his material by our author. John Winthrop the +elder, through contemporaneous records, in the familiar language of +private correspondence and diary, tells us the story of a considerable +part of his career in his own words, Cotton Mather says of him: ... +'This third Adam Winthrop was the father of that renowned John Winthrop, +who was the father of New England, and the founder of a colony, which, +upon many accounts, like him that founded it, may challenge the first +place among the English glories of America.'</p> + +<p>The volume also offers us in great detail a picture not only of the +outward life, but of the inmost thoughts, motives, and principles of the +American Puritans. Valuable to the antiquarian, it will also interest, +in its naive pictures of home life, the general reader.</p> + +<p>The brave and brilliant Theodore Winthrop, who gave up his young life to +his country in the battle of Big Bethel, has rendered this name dear to +all loyal Americans.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Round the Block</span>. An American Novel. With Illustrations. +New York: D. Appleton & Co., 443 and 445 Broadway.</p></div> + +<p>A Novel of American life, incident, and character. The style is easy, +the tale interesting, the moral healthful. There is considerable humor +in the delineation of character. The people drawn are such as we have +all known, sketched without exaggeration, and actuated by constantly +occurring motives. The book is anonymous, but we believe the author will +yet be known to fame, Tiffles and Patching are true to life, and the +exhibition of the 'Pannyrarmer' worthy of Dickens.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">The Life of Jesus</span>. By <span class="smcap">Ernest Renan</span>, Membre de +l'Institut. Translated from the original French by Charles Edwin +Wilbour, translator of 'Les Misérables.' New York: Carlton, +publisher, 413 Broadway.</p></div> + +<p>A book which has attained a sudden and wide circulation, if not a +lasting popularity, in France. We look upon it as a <i>romance</i> based upon +the Sacred History of the Gospels. It is artistically constructed, and +written with considerable genius. 'It is dramatic, beginning with a +pastoral and ending with the direst of human tragedies.' M. Renan we +suppose to be a Pantheist. He says: 'As to myself, I think that there is +not in the universe an intelligence superior to that of man.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> This view +of course leads him to discard supernaturalism, and write of Christ as +simply man. He believes as suits his system, and refuses +testimony—without condescending to tell us why it is not equally as +valid as that received. He says: 'The highest consciousness of God that +ever existed in the bosom of humanity, was that of Jesus.' He is the +'universal ideal'—and yet we think he strives to make of this +'universal ideal' an impostor! Christ tells us of various facts with +regard to himself: of his divine Sonhood and mission—if these things +are not true, then was he either weakly self-deceived or a wilful +deceiver. He sets up a claim to the working of miracles, and assumes the +part of the Messiah of the prophets. This want of truth M. Renan smooths +over by saying: 'Sincerity with oneself had not much meaning with +Orientals; they are little habituated to the delicate distinctions of +the critical spirit!' The resurrection of Lazarus, as he represents it, +was a pious fraud managed by the apostles, agreed to by the Master, +'because he knew not how to conquer the greediness of the crowd and of +his own disciples for the marvellous.' Does not the mere fact of such an +acquiescence argue the impostor? Christ seeks death to deliver himself +from his fearful embarrassments! Did he really rise from the dead? M. +Renan tells us, with a sickly sentimentalism worthy of Michelet: 'The +powerful imagination of Mary of Magdala played in that affair a capital +part. Divine power of love! Sacred moments, when the passion of a +visionary gives to the world a resuscitated God.' If this be indeed the +Life of Jesus, well may we exclaim with the apostle: 'If in this life +only we have hope in Christ, we are, of all men, the most miserable.' +And is this all that the most advanced naturalism can do? All that human +genius and erudition can offer us? All that artistic grace and +tenderness can win for us? Clouds and darkness rise before us as we +read, the mother of our Lord loses her sanctity, Jesus becomes an +impostor, the apostles deceivers, human testimony is forever dishonored. +A pall shrouds the infinite blue of the sky, and our beloved dead seem +festering in eternal corruption!</p> + +<p>We must confess we prefer the bold and defiant scepticism of Voltaire, +to the Judas kiss of M. Renan.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="EDITORS_TABLE" id="EDITORS_TABLE"></a>EDITOR'S TABLE.</h2> + + +<h3>ART ITEMS.</h3> + +<p>Among our exchanges is a little periodical entitled '<i>The New Path</i>, +published by the Society for the Advancement of Truth in Art.' The +members of this Society are otherwise known as 'Pre-Raphaelites,' in +other words, as seekers of the Ancient Path, trodden before certain +mannerisms had corrupted the minds of many painters and most technical +connoisseurs. Their aims and principles are, so far as they go, pure and +lofty. Truth in Art is a noble thing. But can these gentlemen find none +outside of their own society? The face of nature is very dear to us, and +during long years have we closely observed its forms, its changing hues +and expressions. We do like when we look at a picture to know whether +the trees be oaks, elms, or pines; whether the rocks be granitic, +volcanic, or stratified; whether the foliage be of spring, midsummer, or +autumn; even whether the foreground herbage be of grasses or +broad-leaved weeds; but is there no danger that minutiæ may absorb too +much attention, that the larger parts may be lost in the lesser, that +while each weed tells its own story, the distant mountains, the +atmosphere, the whole picture, in short, may fail to tell us theirs in +any interesting or even intelligible manner? In excess of surface +details, may we not lose body, roundness; and, in matching exact color +rather than the effect of color through the tremulous ether, may not the +subtle mysteries of distance, of actually diffused and all-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>suffusing +light, escape the painter? It is possible to possess the body and fail +to grasp the life. Give us not blotchy nondescripts for natural objects, +fling to the winds all narrow, school-made, conventional ideas, but, in +giving us the real, give us the ideal also; otherwise we freeze, missing +the spirit which should warm and shine through the letter.</p> + +<p>We fear lest in his zeal for truth, many a Pre-Raphaelite may be led to +overlook beauty. To a finite mind the two words are by no means +synonymous. There can be no <i>real</i> beauty without truth, but many truths +are not beautiful, and beauty, no less than truth, is an important +ingredient in that complex resultant, Art.</p> + +<p>We quote from one of the articles of organization of the above-named +Society: 'The right course for young artists is faithful and loving +representations of Nature, selecting nothing and rejecting nothing, +seeking only to express the greatest possible amount of fact.' Now we +all know that the best way to stultify the mind and conception of a +youthful student, in any branch of art, is to keep before him +commonplace models. Indeed, what student gifted with genius, or even +with any high degree of talent, will not (if unrestrained) himself +select as studies, not any mere chronicle of desired facts, but the most +significant forms (suited to his proficiency) in which he can find those +facts embodied?</p> + +<p>The article quoted must be based upon the belief that there are no +commonplace, ugly objects in nature. If we sit down and reason over, or +use our microscopes upon any work of the Almighty, we can find wisdom +and beauty therein, but that does not alter the fact that beauty and +significance are distributed in degrees of more and less. 'Art is long +and time is fleeting,' and the genuine artist has no hours to waste over +the less significant and characteristic. Besides, each student deserving +the name, has his own individuality, and will naturally select, and the +more lovingly paint, objects in accordance with his especial bent of +mind. Not that we would have him become one-sided, and neglect the study +of matters that might some day be useful; but in this, as in all things +else, he must temper feeling with judgment, and make the mechanical +execution the simple, faithful handmaiden to truly imaginative +conception.</p> + +<p>In the moral world we may cheerfully accept physical deformity for the +sake of some elevated principle therewith developed; but in the realm of +art, man's only sphere of creation, we want the best the artist can give +us, the greatest truth with the highest beauty. We are not willing to +take the truth without the beauty. If we are to be told that sunlight +tipping the edges of trees produces certain effects upon those edges and +the shadowed foliage behind, let the fact be worthily represented, and +not so prosily set forth that the picture shall be to us simply a matter +of curiosity. That those trees did actually stand and grow thus, is +small comfort, for the artist might surely have found other and more +interesting forms telling the same tale. If light falling through loose +foliage does indeed make upon the garments of a lad lying beneath spots +at a little distance wonderfully like mildew, then rather let the boy +sit for us under a tree of denser foliage, where a pathetic subject will +not risk an unintentionally comic treatment. If a stone-breaker's face +corrupts in purple spots at a certain period after death, we would +prefer him painted before corruption, and consequently hideousness, had +begun. If women will wear gowns ugly in color and form, and will sit or +stand in graceless positions, we can readily avoid such subjects, and +bestow our careful finish upon more worthy models.</p> + +<p>Let us not be misunderstood; we well know that the humorous, the +grotesque, the sublime may use ugliness to serve their own legitimate +purposes, but then that ugliness must be humorous, grotesque, or +sublime, and not flat, prosy, or revolting. A blemish is by no means +necessarily an ugliness. A leaf nibbled by insects and consequently +discolored, a lad with ragged jacket and soiled trowsers, a peasant girl +with bent hat and tattered gown, are often more picturesque objects than +the perfect leaf or the well-attired child.</p> + +<p>Speaking of a certain artist, <i>The New Path</i> says: 'He follows nature as +long as she is graceful and does not offend his eye, but once let her +make what strikes him as a discord, and which is a discord, of course, +for she, the great poet, makes no music without discords—and, +straightway, Mr. —— takes out the offending note, smooths it down, and +thinks he has bettered nature's work.' Now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> in music there are no +<i>discords</i>; so soon as a discord is admitted, the sounds cease to be +music;—there are <i>dissonances</i>, peculiar and unusual combinations of +air vibrations, but these are never long dwelt on, and must always be +resolved into the full and satisfactory harmony, of which the beauty is +enhanced by the momentary lapse into strangeness. Dissonance is never +the prevailing idea, and above all, never the final, closing one; it +must always bear a certain relation to the key in which it is used, and +the musical composition must be ended by the fullest and most +satisfactory chord, or suggestion of a chord, found in that key.</p> + +<p>The majority of the Pre-Raphaelite school are willing to admit that +'there is but one Turner, and Ruskin is his prophet.' Let us then hear +<i>one</i> of the views which the eloquent oracle has advanced in connection +with this subject. After advising the non-imaginative painter to remain +in the region of the purely topographical or historical landscape, he +continues; 'But, beyond this, let him note that though historical +topography forbids <i>alteration</i> (did Turner heed this precept?), it +neither forbids sentiment nor choice. So far from doing this, the proper +choice of subject is an absolute duty to the topographical painter: he +should first take care that it is a subject intensely pleasing to +himself, else he will never paint it well; and then also, that it shall +be one in some sort pleasurable to the general public, else it is not +worth painting at all; and lastly, take care that it be instructive, as +well as pleasurable to the public, else it is not worth painting with +care. I should particularly insist at present on this careful choice of +subject, because the Pre-Raphaelites, taken as a body, have been +culpably negligent in this respect, not in humble honor of Nature, but +in morbid indulgence of their own impressions. They happen to find their +fancies caught by a bit of an oak hedge, or the weeds at the sides of a +duck pond, because, perhaps, they remind them of a stanza of Tennyson; +and forthwith they sit down to sacrifice the most consummate skill, two +or three months of the best summer time available for outdoor work +(equivalent to some seventieth or sixtieth of all their lives), and +nearly all their credit with the public, to this duck-pond delineation. +Now it is indeed quite right that they should see much to be loved in +the hedge, nor less in the ditch; but it is utterly and inexcusably +wrong that they should neglect the nobler scenery, which is full of +majestic interest, or enchanted by historical association; so that, as +things go at present, we have all the commonalty, that may be seen +whenever we choose, painted properly; but all of lovely and wonderful, +which we cannot see but at rare intervals, painted vilely: the castles +of the Rhine and Rhone made vignettes of for the annuals; and the +nettles and mushrooms, which were prepared by nature eminently for +nettle porridge and fish sauce, immortalized by art as reverently as if +we were Egyptians, and they deities.'</p> + +<p>Want of space forbids further extracts, but we recommend the entire +chapter: Of Turnerian Topography, Modern Painters, vol. iv., to the +perusal of our readers.</p> + +<p>We are glad to see the national mind beginning to effervesce on art +subjects. The most opposite views, the new and the old, the conventional +and the truly imaginative, the severely real and the more +latitudinarian, the earnest and the flippant, the pedantic and the +broad, far reaching—will continue to clash for a season, while a school +of American Landscape is, we think, destined to rise steadily through +the chaotic elements, and to reach a height of excellence to which the +conscientious efforts of all advocates of the highest Truth in Art will +have greatly contributed.<br /><br /></p> + +<p>We are indebted to Mr. Cropsey for a pleasant opportunity to visit his +studio (No. 625 Broadway), and see such pictures and sketches as he now +has by him, the results of a long residence abroad and of his summer +work among the hills of Sussex, N. J. A view of Korfe Castle, +Dorsetshire, England, is a highly-finished and evidently accurate +representation of that interesting spot. We are presumed to be standing +amid the ferns, flowers, and vines of the foreground, and looking off +toward the castle-crowned hill, the village at its foot, and the +far-away downs, with a silver stream winding into the distance. A +rainbow quivers among the retreating clouds to the right, and from the +left comes the last brilliant light of day, gilding the greenery of the +hills, and throwing out the deepened hues of the long shadows. There are +also pleasant views of other English scenery, of Italian landscape, and +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> American lakes and streams. Mr. Cropsey has a high reputation both +at home and abroad, and we are glad to learn that for the present, at +least, he intends to pursue his art labors within the limits of his +native land.<br /><br /></p> + +<p><i>Beethoven's Fidelio</i>.—This noble opera has lately been given us by Mr. +Anschütz, with the best use of such means as were at his disposal. The +orchestral, choral, and concerted vocal portions are grand and +beautiful, highly characteristic and effective. The story is simple, +pure, and deeply pathetic. The prison scene affords scope for the finest +histrionic abilities. In the solos, however (with the exception of that +of Pizarro, where dramatic power satisfies), we miss the lyric genius of +the Italians, their long-phrased, passionate, and never-to-be-forgotten +melodies, containing the element of beauty <i>per se</i> so richly developed. +Cannot the whole world produce one man, who, with all the expanded +musical knowledge of the present day, can unite for us Italian gift of +melody and German power of orchestral and choral effect, whose +endowments shall be both lyric and dramatic, and whose taste shall be +pure, refined, and ennobling? Should we recognize such a genius were he +actually to stand in our midst, or would both schools reject him because +he chanced to possess the best qualities of either?</p> + +<p class='author'>L. D. P.<br /><br /></p> + + +<h2>Ballads of the War</h2> + +<h3>THE BROTHER'S BURIAL.</h3> + +<h4>BY ISABELLA McFARLANE.</h4> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hear me, stranger, hear me tell</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How my gallant brother fell.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We were rushing on the foe,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When a bullet laid him low.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At my very side he fell—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He whom I did love so well.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On we rushed—I could not stay—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There I left him where he lay.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then when fled the rebel rout,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I came back and searched him out.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wounded, bleeding, suffering, dying,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Midst a heap of dead men lying.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Friend and foe above each other—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There I found my mangled brother.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blind with tears, I lifted him:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But his eyes were sunk and dim.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Brother, when I'm dead,' said he,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Find some box to coffin me.'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For he could not bear to rest</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the cold earth on his breast.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All around the camp I sought;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Box for coffin found I not.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Still I searched and hunted round—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Three waste cracker-boxes found;</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nailed them fast to one another,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Laid therein my precious brother!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then a grave for him I made,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hands and bayonet all my spade.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long I worked, yet 'twas not deep:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There I laid him down to sleep.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There I laid my gallant brother:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Earth contains not such another!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little more than boys were we,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I sixteen, and nineteen he.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For his country's sake he died,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And for her I'd lie beside.</span><br /> +<br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<div class="footnote"> + +<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> + +<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> But a copy fell into the hands of a French bookseller, who +published a wretched translation, and Jefferson authorized an edition in +London in 1787.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> A statue was erected to Buffon with the inscription: +</p><p> +<span class="smcap">Naturam amplectitur omnem.</span> +</p><p> +Some sceptic wrote underneath: +</p><p> +<span class="smcap">Qui trop embrasse, mal étreint;</span> +</p><p> +a saying which we do not care to translate, but which is too good a +description of Jefferson's scientific acquirements to be omitted.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> I am told that there was no resisting her smile; and that +she had at her command, in moments of grief, a certain look of despair +which filled even the roughest hearts with sympathy, and won over the +kindest to the cruel cause.</p></div></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Continental Monthly, Vol. 5, Issue 2, +February, 1864, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTINENTAL MONTHLY, VOL. 5 *** + +***** This file should be named 18554-h.htm or 18554-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/5/5/18554/ + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Janet Blenkinship and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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